Prince. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland. [Exit Bardolph.] Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. [Exit Peto.] Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple hall at two o'clock in the afternoon. 224 There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive

Money and order for their furniture.

The land is burning; Percy stands on high; And either we or they must lower lie. [Exit.] Fal. Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! 230 [Exit.

ACT IV

SCENE I. [The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.] Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS. Hot. Well said, my noble Scot! If speaking truth

In this fine age were not thought flattery,

30

35

The very life-blood of our enterprise;
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here, that inward sickness
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul remov'd but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement
That with our small conjunction we should on
To see how fortune is dispos'd to us;
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the King is certainly possess'd
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off.
And yet, in faith, 't is not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it. Were it

good

To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good; for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope,
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.

Doug.
Faith, and so we should;
Where now remains a sweet reversion,
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what

40

45

100,

The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales, 95
And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside,
And bid it pass?
Ver.
All furnish'd, all in arms;
All plum'd like estridges that with the wind
Bated, like eagles having lately bath'd;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds

105

of yet.

Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

Hot. What may the King's whole battle reach unto?

Ver. To thirty thousand.
Hot.

Forty let it be ! 150
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day.
Come, let us take a muster speedily.
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
Doug. Talk not of dying; I am out of fear
Of death or death's hand for this one-half
year.
[Exeunt. 158

SCENE II. [A public road near Coventry.]

Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.

Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march through; we'll to Sutton Cop-hill tonight.

Bard. Will you give me money, captain ?
Fal. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This bottle makes an angel.

5

Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all;_I'lí answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at town's end.

10

[Exit.

Bard. I will, captain; farewell. Fal. If I be not asham'd of my soldiers, I am a sous'd gurnet. I have misus'd the King's press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me none but good [13 householders, yeoman's sons; inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been ask'd twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver worse [ than a struck fowl or a hurt wild-duck. I press'd me none but such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins'

heads; and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of [25 ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores; and such as, indeed, were never soldiers, but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters [30 and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old feaz'd ancient: and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them as have bought out their services, that you [35 would think that I had a hundred and fifty tatter'd prodigals lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and press'd the dead bodies. No [40 eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that 's flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a [45 shirt and a half in all my company; and the half shirt is two napkins tack'd together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose inn-keeper of Daventry. [50 But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND. Prince. How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt!

54

Fal. What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy! I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

59

West. Faith, Sir John, 't is more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us all. We must away all night. Fal. Tut, never fear me. am as vigilant as a eat to steal cream.

65

Yea, or to-night. Hot. To-night, say I.

Content.

15

Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,

Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition. Certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up. 20
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated and brought low.
The better part of ours are full of rest.

25

Wor. The number of the King exceedeth

ours.

For God's 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,

a

30

If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect. Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God

You were of our determination!

Some of us love you well; and even those

some

35

Envy your great deservings and good name,
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
Blunt. And God defend but still I should
stand so,

So long as out of limit and true rule

Hot. The King is kind; and well we know the King

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61

Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father and my uncle and myself
Did give him that same royalty he wears;
And when he was not six and twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore;
And when he heard him swear and vow to God
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery and beg his peace,
With tears of innocence and terms of zeal,
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him assistance and perform'd it too.
Now when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less came in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their
oaths,

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70

75

80

Gave him their heirs as pages, followed him
Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
He presently, as greatness knows itself,
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,
This seeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for;
Proceeded further; cut me off the heads
Of all the favourites that the absent king
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was personal in the Irish war.
Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.
Hot.
Then to the point.
In short time after, he depos'd the King;
Soon after that, depriv'd him of his life;"
And in the neck of that, task'd the whole state.
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman

March,

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90

Go to the King; and let there be impawn'd Some surety for a safe return again,

119

And in the morning early shall mine uncle
Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.
Blunt. I would you would accept of grace
and love.

Hot. And may be so we shall.
Blunt.

Pray God you do.

[Exeunt.

The special head of all the land together:
The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt; so
And many moe corrivals and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.

Sir M. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.

Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 't is to fear;

Enter WORCESTER [and VERNON].
How now, my Lord of Worcester! 't is not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms 10
As now we meet. You have deceiv'd our trust,
And made us doff our easy robes of peace,
To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.
This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
What say you to it? Will you again unknit 15
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war?
And move in that obedient orb again
Where you did give a fair and natural light,
And be no more an exhal'd meteor,
A prodigy of fear and a portent

Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
Wor. Hear me, my liege.

For mine own part, I could be well content
To entertain the lag-end of my life
With quiet hours; for I do protest,

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25

I have not sought the day of this dislike. King. You have not sought it! How comes it, then?

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

Prince. Peace, chewet, peace!

Wor. It pleas'd your Majesty to turn your looks

Of favour from myself and all our house;
And yet I must remember you, my lord,
We were the first and dearest of your friends.
For you my staff of office did I break

30

In Richard's time; and posted day and night 35
To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,
When yet you were in place and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
It was myself, my brother, and his son,
That brought you home and boldly did outdare
The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;

41

Nor claim no further than your new-fallen right,

45

The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.
To this we swore our aid. But in short space
It rain'd down fortune show'ring on your head;
And such a flood of greatness fell on you,
What with our help, what with the absent King,
What with the injuries of a wanton time,
The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
And the contrarious winds that held the King
So long in his unlucky Irish wars
That all in England did repute him dead;
And from this swarm of fair advantages
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
To gripe the general sway into your hand;
Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster ;
And being fed by us you us'd us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest;
Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk
That even our love durst not come near your

60

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70

King. These things indeed you have articu-
late,
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 poor discontents,
Which and rub the elbow at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation.

gape

And never yet did insurrection want Such water-colours to impaint his cause; Nor moody beggars, starving for a time Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.

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80

Prince. In both your armies there is many a

soul

In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,
This present enterprise set off his head,

I do not think a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant or more valiant-young,
More daring or more bold, is now alive
To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant been to chivalry;
And so I hear he doth account me too;
Yet this before my father's majesty:
I am content that he shall take the odds