SCENE III.

The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. Enter HOTSPUR, WOR

CESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON.

Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.

Wor. It may not be.

Doug. You give him then advantage.

Ver. Not a whit.

Hot. Why say you so ? looks he not for supply?

Ver. So do we.

Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful.

Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not to-night.
Ver. Do not, my lord.

Doug. You do not counsel well;

You speak it out of fear, and cold heart.

Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,
(And I dare well maintain it with my life,)
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear,
As you my lord, or any Scot that lives :-
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle,
Which of us fears.

Doug. Yea, or to-night.

Ver. Content.

Hot. To-night, say

I.

Ver. Come, come, it may not be.

I wonder much, being men of such great leading,
That you forsee not what impediments

Drag back our expedition: Certain horse

Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
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 himself.
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy

In general, journey-bated, and brought low;
The better part of ours is full of rest.

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,

If you vouchsafe me hearing, and respect.

[6] Such conduct, such experience in martia! business.

JOHNSON.

Hot. Welcome, sir Walter Blunt; And, 'would to God,

You were of our determination !

Some of us love you well: and even those some
Envy your great deserving, 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,
You stand against anointed majesty!

But, to my charge.-The king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs ; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty: If that the king

Have any way your good deserts forgot,-
Which he confesseth to be manifold,-

He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed,
You shall have your desires, with interest;

And pardon absolute for yourself, and these,

Herein misled by your suggestion.

Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king 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,

8

To sue his livery, and beg his peace;

With tears of innocency, 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,

[7] i. e. grievances. MALONE.

[8] This is a law phrase belonging to the feudal tenures; meaning, to sue out the delivery or possession of his lands from those persons who on the death of any of the tenants of the crown, seized their lands, till the heir sued out his livery STEEVENS.

Gave him their heirs; as pages follow'd 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 Ravenspurg;
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
(Who is, if every owner were well plac'd,
Indeed his king,) to be incag'd in Wales,
There without ransome to lie forfeited:
Disgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
Rated my uncle from the council-board;

In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;

Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong:
And, in conclusion, drove us to seek out

This head of safety ; and, withal, to pry

Into his title, the which we find

Too indirect for long continuance.

Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king?
Hot. Not so, sir Walter; we'll withdraw a while.

Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd

Some surety for a safe return again,

And in the morning early shall mine uncle

[9] In this whole speech he alludes again to some passages in Richard the second.

[1] Task'd is here used for tar'd. STEEVENS. [2] This army, from which I hope for protection.

16

VOL. V.

JOHNSON.

JOHNSON.

L

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 heaven, you do!

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

York. A Room in the Archbishop's House. Enter the Archbishop of York, and a Gentleman.

Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed brief,' With winged haste, to the lord mareshal;

This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest

To whom they are directed: if you knew

How much they do import, you would make haste.

Gent. My good lord,

I

guess their tenor.

Arch. Like enough, you do.

To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must 'bide the touch: For, sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly given to understand,

The king, with mighty and quick-raised power,
Meets with lord Harry and I fear, sir Michael,-
What with the sickness of Northumberland,
(Whose power was in the first proportion,)*
And what with Owen Glendower's absence, thence,
(Who with them was a rated sinew too,

And comes not in, o'er-rul'd by prophecies,)—

I fear, the power of Percy is too weak

To wage an instant trial with the king.

Gent. Why, good my lord, you need not fear; there's Douglas,

And Mortimer.

Arch. No, Mortimer's not there.

Gent. But there is Mordake, Vernon, lord Harry

Percy,

And there's my lord of Worcester; and a head

Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

Arch. And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn

The special head of all the land together ;-
The prince of Wales, lord John of Lancaster,
The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt ;

[3] A brief is simply a letter. JOHNSON.

[4] Whose quota was larger than that of any other man in the confederacy.

JOHNSON

And many more cor-rivals, and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.

Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.
Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;

And, to prevent the worst, sir Michael, speed:
For, if lord Percy thrive not, ere the king
Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,-
For he hath heard of our confederacy,-
And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him ;'
Therefore, make haste: I must go write again
To other friends; and so farewell, sir Michael.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The King's Camp near Shrewsbury. Enter
King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN of Lancaster,
Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Sir JOHN FALSTAFF.

K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.

P. Hen. The southern wind

Doth play the trumpet to his purposes ;*
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.

K. Hen. Then with the losers let it sympathize;
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.-

Trumpet. Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.
How now, my lord of Worcester ? 'tis not well,
That you and I should meet upon such terms
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't? will you again unknit
This churlish knot of all abhorred war?
And move in that obedient orb again,
Where you did give a fair and natural light;

[4] i. e. To the sun's, to that which the sun portends by his unusual appearance.

JOHNSON.