Shakespeare's First Folio

Chapter 82

Chapter 824,373 wordsPublic domain

Hotsp. Sicke now? droope now? this sicknes doth infect The very Life-blood of our Enterprise, 'Tis catching hither, euen to our Campe. He writes me here, that inward sicknesse, And that his friends by deputation Could not so soone be drawne: nor did he thinke it meet, To lay so dangerous and deare a trust On any Soule remou'd, but on his owne. Yet doth he giue vs bold aduertisement, That with our small coniunction we should on, To see how Fortune is dispos'd to vs: For, as he writes, there is no quailing now, Because the King is certainely possest Of all our purposes. What say you to it? Wor. Your Fathers sicknesse is a mayme to vs

Hotsp. A perillous Gash, a very Limme lopt off: And yet, in faith, it is not his present want Seemes more then we shall finde it. Were it good, to set the exact wealth of all our states All at one Cast? To set so rich a mayne On the nice hazard of one doubtfull houre, It were not good: for therein should we reade The very Bottome, and the Soule of Hope, The very List, the very vtmost Bound Of all our fortunes

Dowg. Faith, and so wee should, Where now remaines a sweet reuersion. We may boldly spend, vpon the hope Of what is to come in: A comfort of retyrement liues in this

Hotsp. A Randeuous, a Home to flye vnto, If that the Deuill and Mischance looke bigge Vpon the Maydenhead of our Affaires

Wor. But yet I would your Father had beene here: The qualitie and Heire of our Attempt Brookes no diuision: It will be thought By some, that know not why he is away, That wisedome, loyaltie, and meere dislike Of our proceedings, kept the Earle from hence. And thinke, how such an apprehension May turne the tyde of fearefull Faction, And breede a kinde of question in our cause: For well you know, wee of the offring side, Must keepe aloofe from strict arbitrement, And stop all sight-holes, euery loope, from whence The eye of reason may prie in vpon vs: This absence of your Father drawes a Curtaine, That shewes the ignorant a kinde of feare, Before not dreamt of

Hotsp. You strayne too farre. I rather of his absence make this vse: It lends a Lustre, and more great Opinion, A larger Dare to your great Enterprize, Then if the Earle were here: for men must thinke, If we without his helpe, can make a Head To push against the Kingdome; with his helpe, We shall o're-turne it topsie-turuy downe: Yet all goes well, yet all our ioynts are whole

Dowg. As heart can thinke: There is not such a word spoke of in Scotland, At this Dreame of Feare. Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

Hotsp. My Cousin Vernon, welcome by my Soule

Vern. Pray God my newes be worth a welcome, Lord. The Earle of Westmerland, seuen thousand strong, Is marching hither-wards, with Prince Iohn

Hotsp. No harme: what more? Vern. And further, I haue learn'd, The King himselfe in person hath set forth, Or hither-wards intended speedily, With strong and mightie preparation

Hotsp. He shall be welcome too. Where is his Sonne, The nimble-footed Mad-Cap, Prince of Wales, And his Cumrades, that daft the World aside, And bid it passe? Vern. All furnisht, all in Armes, All plum'd like Estridges, that with the Winde Bayted like Eagles, hauing lately bath'd, Glittering in Golden Coates, like Images, As full of spirit as the Moneth of May, And gorgeous as the Sunne at Mid-summer, Wanton as youthfull Goates, wilde as young Bulls. I saw young Harry with his Beuer on, His Cushes on his thighes, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his Seat, As if an Angell dropt downe from the Clouds, To turne and winde a fierie Pegasus, And witch the World with Noble Horsemanship

Hotsp. No more, no more, Worse then the Sunne in March: This prayse doth nourish Agues: let them come. They come like Sacrifices in their trimme, And to the fire-ey'd Maid of smoakie Warre, All hot, and bleeding, will wee offer them: The mayled Mars shall on his Altar sit Vp to the eares in blood. I am on fire, To heare this rich reprizall is so nigh, And yet not ours. Come, let me take my Horse, Who is to beare me like a Thunder-bolt, Against the bosome of the Prince of Wales. Harry to Harry, shall not Horse to Horse Meete, and ne're part, till one drop downe a Coarse? Oh, that Glendower were come

Ver. There is more newes: I learned in Worcester, as I rode along, He cannot draw his Power this fourteene dayes

Dowg. That's the worst Tidings that I heare of yet

Wor. I by my faith, that beares a frosty sound

Hotsp. What may the Kings whole Battaile reach vnto? Ver. To thirty thousand

Hot. Forty let it be, My Father and Glendower being both away, The powres of vs, may serue so great a day. Come, let vs take a muster speedily: Doomesday is neere; dye all, dye merrily

Dow. Talke not of dying, I am out of feare Of death, or deaths hand, for this one halfe yeare.

Exeunt. Omnes.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Falstaffe and Bardolph.

Falst. Bardolph, get thee before to Couentry, fill me a Bottle of Sack, our Souldiers shall march through: wee'le to Sutton-cop-hill to Night

Bard. Will you giue me Money, Captaine? Falst. Lay out, lay out

Bard. This Bottle makes an Angell

Falst. And if it doe, take it for thy labour: and if it make twentie, take them all, Ile answere the Coynage. Bid my Lieutenant Peto meete me at the Townes end

Bard. I will Captaine: farewell. Enter.

Falst. If I be not asham'd of my Souldiers, I am a sowc't-Gurnet: I haue mis-vs'd the Kings Presse damnably. I haue got, in exchange of a hundred and fiftie Souldiers, three hundred and odde Pounds. I presse me none but good House-holders, Yeomens Sonnes: enquire me out contracted Batchelers, such as had beene ask'd twice on the Banes: such a Commoditie of warme slaues, as had as lieue heare the Deuill, as a Drumme; such as feare the report of a Caliuer, worse then a struck-Foole, or a hurt wilde-Ducke. I prest me none but such Tostes and Butter, with Hearts in their Bellyes no bigger then Pinnes heads, and they haue bought out their seruices: And now, my whole Charge consists of Ancients, Corporals, Lieutenants, Gentlemen of Companies, Slaues as ragged a Lazarus in the painted Cloth, where the Gluttons Dogges licked his Sores; and such, as indeed were neuer Souldiers, but dis-carded vniust Seruingmen, younger Sonnes to younger Brothers, reuolted Tapsters and Ostlers, Trade-falne, the Cankers of a calme World, and long Peace, tenne times more dis-honorable ragged, then an old-fac'd Ancient; and such haue I to fill vp the roomes of them that haue bought out their seruices: that you would thinke, that I had a hundred and fiftie totter'd Prodigalls, lately come from Swine-keeping, from eating Draffe and Huskes. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had vnloaded all the Gibbets, and prest the dead bodyes. No eye hath seene such skar-Crowes: Ile not march through Couentry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the Villaines march wide betwixt the Legges, as if they had Gyues on; for indeede, I had the most of them out of Prison. There's not a Shirt and a halfe in all my Company: and the halfe Shirt is two Napkins tackt together, and throwne ouer the shoulders like a Heralds Coat, without sleeues: and the Shirt, to say the truth, stolne from my Host of S[aint]. Albones, or the Red-Nose Inne-keeper of Dauintry. But that's all one, they'le finde Linnen enough on euery Hedge. Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmerland.

Prince. How now blowne Iack? how now Quilt? Falst. What Hal? How now mad Wag, what a Deuill do'st thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmerland, I cry you mercy, I thought your Honour had already beene at Shrewsbury

West. 'Faith, Sir Iohn, 'tis more then time that I were there, and you too: but my Powers are there alreadie. The King, I can tell you, lookes for vs all: we must away all to Night

Falst. Tut, neuer feare me, I am as vigilant as a Cat, to steale Creame

Prince. I thinke to steale Creame indeed, for thy theft hath alreadie made thee Butter: but tell me, Iack, whose fellowes are these that come after? Falst. Mine, Hal, mine

Prince. I did neuer see such pittifull Rascals

Falst. Tut, tut, good enough to tosse: foode for Powder, foode for Powder: they'le fill a Pit, as well as better: tush man, mortall men, mortall men

Westm. I, but Sir Iohn, me thinkes they are exceeding poore and bare, too beggarly

Falst. Faith, for their pouertie, I know not where they had that; and for their barenesse, I am sure they neuer learn'd that of me

Prince. No, Ile be sworne, vnlesse you call three fingers on the Ribbes bare. But sirra, make haste, Percy is already in the field

Falst. What, is the King encamp'd? Westm. Hee is, Sir Iohn, I feare wee shall stay too long

Falst. Well, to the latter end of a Fray, and the beginning of a Feast, fits a dull fighter, and a keene Guest.

Exeunt.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Dowglas, and Vernon.

Hotsp. Wee'le fight with him to Night

Worc. It may not be

Dowg. You giue him then aduantage

Vern. Not a whit

Hotsp. Why say you so? lookes he not for supply? Vern. So doe wee

Hotsp. His is certaine, ours is doubtfull

Worc. Good Cousin be aduis'd, stirre not to night

Vern. Doe not, my Lord

Dowg. You doe not counsaile well: You speake it out of feare, and cold heart

Vern. Doe me no slander, Dowglas: by my Life, And I dare well maintaine it with my Life, If well-respected Honor bid me on, I hold as little counsaile with weake feare, As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day liues. Let it be seene to morrow in the Battell, Which of vs feares

Dowg. Yea, or to night

Vern. Content

Hotsp. To night, say I

Vern. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, being me[n] of such great leading as you are That you fore-see not what impediments Drag backe our expedition: certaine Horse Of my Cousin Vernons are not yet come vp, Your Vnckle Worcesters Horse came but to day, And now their pride and mettall is asleepe, Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, That not a Horse is halfe the halfe of himselfe

Hotsp. So are the Horses of the Enemie In generall iourney bated, and brought low: The better part of ours are full of rest

Worc. The number of the King exceedeth ours: For Gods sake, Cousin, stay till all come in.

The Trumpet sounds a Parley. Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King, If you vouchsafe me hearing, and respect

Hotsp. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt: And would to God you were of our determination. Some of vs loue you well: and euen those some Enuie your great deseruings, and good name, Because you are not of our qualitie, But stand against vs like an Enemie

Blunt. And Heauen defend, but still I should stand so, So long as out of Limit, and true Rule, You stand against anoynted Maiestie. But to my Charge. The King hath sent to know The nature of your Griefes, and whereupon You coniure from the Brest of Ciuill Peace, Such bold Hostilitie, teaching his dutious Land Audacious Crueltie. If that the King Haue any way your good Deserts forgot, Which he confesseth to be manifold, He bids you name your Griefes, and with all speed You shall haue your desires, with interest; And Pardon absolute for your selfe, and these, Herein mis-led, by your suggestion

Hotsp. The King is kinde: And well wee know, the King Knowes at what time to promise, when to pay. My Father, my Vnckle, and my selfe, Did giue him that same Royaltie he weares: And when he was not sixe and twentie strong, Sicke in the Worlds regard, wretched, and low, A poore vnminded Out-law, sneaking home, My Father gaue him welcome to the shore: And when he heard him sweare, and vow to God, He came but to be Duke of Lancaster, To sue his Liuerie, and begge his Peace, With teares of Innocencie, and tearmes of Zeale; My Father, in kinde heart and pitty mou'd, Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too. Now, when the Lords and Barons of the Realme Perceiu'd Northumberland did leane to him, The more and lesse came in with Cap and Knee, Met him in Boroughs, Cities, Villages, Attended him on Bridges, stood in Lanes, Layd Gifts before him, proffer'd him their Oathes, Gaue him their Heires, as Pages followed him, Euen at the heeles, in golden multitudes. He presently, as Greatnesse knowes it selfe, Step me a little higher then his Vow Made to my Father, while his blood was poore, Vpon the naked shore at Rauenspurgh: And now (forsooth) takes on him to reforme Some certaine Edicts, and some strait Decrees, That lay too heauie on the Common-wealth; Cryes out vpon abuses, seemes to weepe Ouer his Countries Wrongs: and by this Face, This seeming Brow of Iustice, did he winne The hearts of all that hee did angle for. Proceeded further, cut me off the Heads Of all the Fauorites, that the absent King In deputation left behinde him heere, When hee was personall in the Irish Warre

Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this

Hotsp. Then to the point. In short time after, hee depos'd the King. Soone after that, depriu'd him of his Life: And in the neck of that, task't the whole State. To make that worse, suffer'd his Kinsman March, Who is, if euery Owner were plac'd, Indeede his King, to be engag'd in Wales, There, without Ransome, to lye forfeited: Disgrac'd me in my happie Victories, Sought to intrap me by intelligence, Rated my Vnckle from the Councell-Boord, In rage dismiss'd my Father from the Court, Broke Oath on Oath, committed Wrong on Wrong, And in conclusion, droue vs to seeke out This Head of safetie; and withall, to prie Into his Title: the which wee finde Too indirect, for long continuance

Blunt. Shall I returne this answer to the King? Hotsp. Not so, Sir Walter. Wee'le with-draw a while: Goe to the King, and let there be impawn'd Some suretie for a safe returne againe, And in the Morning early shall my Vnckle Bring him our purpose: and so farewell

Blunt. I would you would accept of Grace and Loue

Hotsp. And't may be, so wee shall

Blunt. Pray Heauen you doe.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter the Arch-Bishop of Yorke, and Sir Michell.

Arch. Hie, good Sir Michell, beare this sealed Briefe With winged haste to the Lord Marshall, This to my Cousin Scroope, and all the rest To whom they are directed. If you knew how much they doe import, You would make haste

Sir Mich. My good Lord, I guesse their tenor

Arch. Like enough you doe. To morrow, good Sir Michell, is a day, Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men Must bide the touch. For Sir, at Shrewsbury, As I am truly giuen to vnderstand, The King, with mightie and quick-raysed Power, Meetes with Lord Harry: and I feare, Sir Michell, What with the sicknesse of Northumberland, Whose Power was in the first proportion; And what with Owen Glendowers absence thence, Who with them was rated firmely too, And comes not in, ouer-rul'd by Prophecies, I feare the Power of Percy is too weake, To wage an instant tryall with the King

Sir Mich. Why, my good Lord, you need not feare, There is Dowglas, and Lord Mortimer

Arch. No, Mortimer is not there

Sir Mic. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy, And there is my Lord of Worcester, And a Head of gallant Warriors, Noble Gentlemen

Arch. And so there is, but yet the King hath Drawne The speciall head of all the Land together: The Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, The Noble Westmerland, and warlike Blunt; And many moe Corriuals, and deare men Of estimation, and command in Armes

Sir M. Doubt not my Lord, he shall be well oppos'd Arch. I hope no lesse? Yet needfull 'tis to feare, And to preuent the worst, Sir Michell speed; For if Lord Percy thriue not, ere the King Dismisse his power, he meanes to visit vs: For he hath heard of our Confederacie, And, 'tis but Wisedome to make strong against him: Therefore make hast, I must go write againe To other Friends: and so farewell, Sir Michell.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaffe.

King. How bloodily the Sunne begins to peere Aboue yon busky hill: the day lookes pale At his distemperature Prin. The Southerne winde Doth play the Trumpet to his purposes, And by his hollow whistling in the Leaues, Fortels a Tempest, and a blust'ring day

King. Then with the losers let it sympathize, For nothing can seeme foule to those that win.

The Trumpet sounds.

Enter Worcester.

King. How now my Lord of Worster? 'Tis not well That you and I should meet vpon such tearmes, As now we meet. You haue deceiu'd our trust, And made vs doffe our easie Robes of Peace, To crush our old limbes in vngentle Steele: This is not well, my Lord, this is not well. What say you to it? Will you againe vnknit This churlish knot of all-abhorred Warre? And moue in the obedient Orbe againe, Where you did giue a faire and naturall light, And be no more an exhall'd Meteor, A prodigie of Feare, and a Portent Of broached Mischeefe, to the vnborne Times? Wor. Heare me, my Liege: For mine owne part, I could be well content To entertaine the Lagge-end of my life With quiet houres: For I do protest, I haue not sought the day of this dislike

King. You haue not sought it: how comes it then? Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it

Prin. Peace, Chewet, peace

Wor. It pleas'd your Maiesty, to turne your lookes Of Fauour, from my Selfe, and all our House; And yet I must remember you my Lord, We were the first, and dearest of your Friends: For you, my staffe of Office did I breake In Richards time, and poasted day and night To meete you on the way, and kisse your hand, When yet you were in place, and in account Nothing so strong and fortunate, as I; It was my Selfe, my Brother, and his Sonne, That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare The danger of the time. You swore to vs, And you did sweare that Oath at Doncaster, That you did nothing of purpose 'gainst the State, Nor claime no further, then your new-falne right, The seate of Gaunt, Dukedome of Lancaster, To this, we sware our aide: But in short space, It rain'd downe Fortune showring on your head, And such a floud of Greatnesse fell on you, What with our helpe, what with the absent King. What with the iniuries of wanton time, The seeming sufferances that you had borne, And the contrarious Windes that held the King So long in the vnlucky Irish Warres, That all in England did repute him dead: And from this swarme of faire aduantages, You tooke occasion to be quickly woo'd, To gripe the generall sway into your hand, Forgot your Oath to vs at Doncaster, And being fed by vs, you vs'd vs so, As that vngentle gull the Cuckowes Bird, Vseth the Sparrow, did oppresse our Nest Grew by our Feeding, to so great a builke, That euen our Loue durst not come neere your sight For feare of swallowing: But with nimble wing We were infor'd for safety sake, to flye Out of your sight, and raise this present Head, Whereby we stand opposed by such meanes As you your selfe, haue forg'd against your selfe, By vnkinde vsage, dangerous countenance, And violation of all faith and troth Sworne to vs in yonger enterprize

Kin. These things indeed you haue articulated, Proclaim'd at Market Crosses, read in Churches, To face the Garment of Rebellion With some fine colour, that may please the eye Of fickle Changelings, and poore Discontents, Which gape, and rub the Elbow at the newes Of hurly burly Innouation: And neuer yet did Insurrection want Such water-colours, to impaint his cause: Nor moody Beggars, staruing for a time Of pell-mell hauocke, and confusion

Prin. In both our Armies, there is many a soule Shall pay full dearely for this encounter, If once they ioyne in triall. Tell your Nephew, The Prince of Wales doth ioyne with all the world In praise of Henry Percie: By my Hopes, This present enterprize set off his head, I do not thinke a brauer Gentleman, More actiue, valiant, or more valiant yong, More daring, or more bold, is now aliue, To grace this latter Age with Noble deeds. For my part, I may speake it to my shame, I haue a Truant beene to Chiualry, And so I heare, he doth account me too: Yet this before my Fathers Maiesty, I am content that he shall take the oddes Of his great name and estimation, And will, to saue the blood on either side, Try fortune with him, in a Single Fight

King. And Prince of Wales, so dare we venter thee, Albeit, considerations infinite Do make against it: No good Worster, no, We loue our people well; euen those we loue That are misled vpon your Cousins part: And will they take the offer of our Grace: Both he, and they, and you; yea euery man Shall be my Friend againe, and Ile be his. So tell your Cousin, and bring me word, What he will do. But if he will not yeeld, Rebuke and dread correction waite on vs, And they shall do their Office. So bee gone, We will not now be troubled with reply, We offer faire, take it aduisedly.

Exit Worcester.

Prin. It will not be accepted, on my life, The Dowglas and the Hotspurre both together, Are confident against the world in Armes

King. Hence therefore, euery Leader to his charge, For on their answer will we set on them; And God befriend vs, as our cause is iust.

Exeunt.

Manet Prince and Falstaffe.

Fal. Hal, if thou see me downe in the battell, And bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship

Prin. Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that frendship Say thy prayers, and farewell

Fal. I would it were bed time Hal, and all well

Prin. Why, thou ow'st heauen a death

Falst. 'Tis not due yet: I would bee loath to pay him before his day. What neede I bee so forward with him, that call's not on me? Well, 'tis no matter, Honor prickes me on. But how if Honour pricke me off when I come on? How then? Can Honour set too a legge? No: or an arme? No: Or take away the greefe of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in Surgerie, then? No. What is Honour A word. What is that word Honour? Ayre: A trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that dy'de a Wednesday. Doth he feele it? No. Doth hee heare it? No. Is it insensible then? yea, to the dead. But wil it not liue with the liuing? No. Why? Detraction wil not suffer it, therfore Ile none of it. Honour is a meere Scutcheon, and so ends my Catechisme. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Vernon.

Wor. O no, my Nephew must not know, Sir Richard, The liberall kinde offer of the King

Ver. 'Twere best he did

Wor. Then we are all vndone. It is not possible, it cannot be, The King would keepe his word in louing vs, He will suspect vs still, and finde a time To punish this offence in others faults: Supposition, all our liues, shall be stucke full of eyes; For Treason is but trusted like the Foxe, Who ne're so tame, so cherisht, and lock'd vp, Will haue a wilde tricke of his Ancestors: Looke how he can, or sad or merrily, Interpretation will misquote our lookes, And we shall feede like Oxen at a stall, The better cherisht, still the nearer death. My Nephewes Trespasse may be well forgot, It hath the excuse of youth, and heate of blood, And an adopted name of Priuiledge, A haire-brain'd Hotspurre, gouern'd by a Spleene: All his offences liue vpon my head, And on his Fathers. We did traine him on, And his corruption being tane from vs, We as the Spring of all, shall pay for all: Therefore good Cousin, let not Harry know In any case, the offer of the King

Ver. Deliuer what you will, Ile say 'tis so. Heere comes your Cosin. Enter Hotspurre.

Hot. My Vnkle is return'd, Deliuer vp my Lord of Westmerland. Vnkle, what newes? Wor. The King will bid you battell presently

Dow. Defie him by the Lord of Westmerland Hot. Lord Dowglas: Go you and tell him so

Dow. Marry and shall, and verie willingly.

Exit Dowglas.

Wor. There is no seeming mercy in the King

Hot. Did you begge any? God forbid

Wor. I told him gently of our greeuances, Of his Oath-breaking: which he mended thus, By now forswearing that he is forsworne, He cals vs Rebels, Traitors, and will scourge With haughty armes, this hatefull name in vs. Enter Dowglas.