SCENE 6.] KING RICHARD II. For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard Groom. Hail, royal prince! With much ado, at length have gotten leave That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; Enter Keeper with a dish. Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay. (To the Groom.) K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my Keep. My lord, wilt please you to fall to? Lately came from the king, commands the contrary. Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help, help, help! (Beats the Keeper.) Enter EXTON and Servants, armed. K. Rich. How now? what means death in this rude assault? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. (Snatching a weapon, and killing one.) hand Go thou, and fill another room in hell. Exton, As full of valour, as of royal blood: This dead king to the living king I'll bear ;— [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-Windsor. A Room in the Castle. Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Welcome, my lord: What is the news? North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all hap- The next news is,-I have to London sent Presenting a paper.) Enter FITZWATER. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely; Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Enter PERCY, with the Bishop of CARLISLE. Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westminster, With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom:- Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a coffin. A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, this deed. Boling. They love not poison, that do poison need, Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead, I hate the murderer, love him murdered. The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, But neither my good word, nor princely favour: With Cain go wander through the shade of night, And never show thy head by day nor light.Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow: Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, And put on sullen black incontinent; I'll make a voyage to the Holy land, To wash this blood off from my guilty hand :March sadly after; grace my mournings here, [Exeunt. In weeping after this untimely bier. KING HENRY THE FOURTH. HENRY, Prince of Wales, PERSONS REPRESENTED. PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster, Sons to the King. EARL OF WESTMORELAND, Friends to the King. THOMAS PERCY, Earl of Worcester. ARCHIBALD, Earl of Douglas. OWEN GLENDOWER. SIR RICHARD VERNON. ACT I. SCENE I.--London. SCENE,-England. A Room in the Palace. Enter King HENRY, WESTMORELAND, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote. No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred,Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, March all one way; and be no more oppos'd Against acquaintance, Kindred, and allies: The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cat his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engaged to fight,) Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb, To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, Brake off our business for the Holy Land. West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord; Came from the north, and thus it did import. FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV. That ever-valiant and approved Scot," Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;" And shape of likelihood, the news was told; K.Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend, Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights, It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and In envy, that my lord Northumberland Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd, SCENE II.-The same. Another Room in the Palace. Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for 325 thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,)P.Hen. What! none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P.Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us king, let not us, that are squires of the night's be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal. P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying-bring in: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? lancholy of Moor-ditch? art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,- in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking. Enter POINS, at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in bell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true P. Hen. Good-morrow, Ned. [man. Poins. Good-morrow, sweet Hal.-What says monsieur Remorse? What says sir John Sack-andSugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg? P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. [the devil. P. Hen. Else he had been damned for cozening Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged. Fal. Hear me, Yedward, if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chaps? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. P. Hen. Well, then once in my days I'll be a Fal. Why, that's well said. [mad-cap. P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. P. Hen. I care not. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be behieved, that the true prince may (for recreation sake,) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: You shall find me in Eastcheap. P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer! [Exit Falstaff. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and I, will not be there : and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth? Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves: which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. P.Hen. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for us. Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jest. P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap, there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit Poins. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness: Yet herein will I imitate the sun; Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holydays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So, when this loose behaviour I throw off, And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes, Than that, which hath no foil to set it off. I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; Redeeming time, when men think least I will. [Exit. SCENE III.-The same. Palace. Another Room in the Enter King HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to stir at these indignities, You were about to speak. North. And majesty might never yet endure Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held He question'd me; among the rest demanded then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, He should, or he should not;-for he made me mad, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman, Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark!) And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Betwixt my love and your high majesty. He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; Colour her working with such deadly wounds; Then let him not be slander'd with revolt, K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost He never did encounter with Glendower; He durst as well have met the devil alone, Art not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, [Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and Train. Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them :-I will after straight, And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, Although it be with hazard of my head. North. What, drunk with choler? stay, and pause awhile; Here comes your uncle. Hot. Re-enter WORCESTER. Speak of Mortimer! Blunt.The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, And when I urg'd the ransome once again Whatever Harry Percy then had said, K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners; But with proviso, and exception, That we, at our own charge, shall ransome straight Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale; And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, Trembling even at the name of Mortimer, Wor. I cannot blame him; Was he not proclaim'd, By Richard, that dead is, the next of blood? From whence he, intercepted, did return Wor. And for whose death, we in the world's wide mouth Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. Hot. But, soft, I pray you; Did king Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer Heir to the crown? North. He did; myself did hear it. Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king That wish'd him on the barren mountains starv'd. But shall it be, that you, that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man; |