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bowels. - I have led my raggamuffins where they are Doug. I fear, thou art another counterfeit;
And thus I win thee.
[They fight; the King being in danger, P. Hen. What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me
enter Prince Henry. thy sword!
P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! the spirits
Of Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms :
Who never promiseth, but he means to pay:-
[They fight; Douglas flies.
And so hath Clifton. I'll to Clifton straight.
Thou hast redeem’d thy lost opinion,
Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot,’tis hot; there's that will sack That ever said, I hearken'd for your death.
(Throws it at him, and exit. Which would have been as speedy in your end,
(Exit King Henry. me life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes
Enter HOTSPUR. unlooked for, and there's an end.
[Lxit. Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P Hen. Thou speak’st, as if I would deny my name.
A very valiant rebel of the name.
I am the prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
To end the one of us. And 'would to God,
P. Hen. I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee;
Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal!– Nay, you shall
Enter Douglas; he fights with Falstaff, who falls Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come! down, as if he were dead, and exit Douglas. HOTS
(Exeunt Prince John and Westmoreland. pur is wounded, and falls.
I better brook the loss of brittle life,
Than those proud titles, thou hast won of me;
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophecy,
[Exit. But that the earthy and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue. — No, Percy, thou art dust, Doug. Another king! they grow, like Hydra's heads. And food for
(Dies. I am the Douglas, fatal to all those,
P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy! Fare thee well,
ml-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk !
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough.- This earth, that bears thee dead,
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
It thou wert sensible of courtesy,
I should not make so dear a show of zeal.
Earl Earl GOWI Lord
Lord Lorc Sur]
But let my favours hide thy mangled face!
P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother And, even in thy behalf, l'II thank myself
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
[A retreat is sounded.
To see what friends are living, who are dead. I would have better spar'd a better man.
[Exeunt Prince Henry and Prince John. 0, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
Fal. I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that If I were much in love with vanity.
rewards me, God reward him ! If I do grow great, I'll Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day, grow less ;for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanThough many dearer, in this bloody fray.
ly,asa noblemanshould do.[Exit,bearing off the body.
Fal. (Rising slowly.) Embowell'd! ifthou embowel The trumpets sound. Enter King Hexey, Prince
(Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, guarded.
the field? P. Hen. Come, brother John, fall bravely hast thou P. Hen. The noble Scot, lord Douglas, when he saw flesh'd
The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him, Thy maiden sword.
The noble Percy slain, and all his men P. John. But, soft! whom have we here?
Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest; Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead ? And, falling from a hill, he was so bruis'd, P.Ilen. I did; I saw hiin dead, breathless, and bleed- That the pursuers took him. At my tent ing,
The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace, Upon the ground. -
I may dispose of him.
K. Hen. With all my heart.
Go to the Douglas, and deliver him
Let us not leave, till all our own be won!
Per s o n $ of the wr a m a.
TRAVERS und Morton, domestics of NORTHUMBER-
Falstaff, BARDOLPH, Pistol, and Page.
Poins and Pero, attendants on prince Henry.
his Prince Johx of LANCASTER, afterwards
Shallow and Silence, Country Justices.
Davy, servant to Shallow.
MOULDY, SHADOW, Wart, Feeble, and BULLCALF, (2 Henry V.) duke of GLOSTER,
Faxc and Snare, Sheriff's Officers.
RUMOUR. A Porter.
A Dancer, speaker of the epilogue.
Hostess QUICKLY. DOLL TEAR-Sheet.
enemies to the
Lords and other Attendants; Officers, Soldiers,
king Lord BARDOLPH,
Messenger, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, etc. Sir Joux COLEVILLE,
They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.
(Exit. Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND's castle.
Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues.
А ст І.
SCENE I. — The same.
The Porter before the gate ; Enter Lord BARDOLPH.
Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho? — Where is
Port. What shall I say you are?
Bard. Tell thou the earl,
That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here!
Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard;
Please it your honour, knock but at the gate,
And he himself will answer.
Bard. Here comes the earl.
North. What news, lord Bardolph? every minute
Should be the father of some stratagem.
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose,
And bears down all before him.
Bard. Noble earl,
North. Good, an heaven will !
Bard. As good, as heart can wish:-
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Killd by the hand of Douglas: young prince John,
And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk sir John,
Is prisoner to your son. 0, such a day,
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Since Caesar's fortuue's !
North. How is this deriv'd ?
the field ? came you from Shrewsbury? Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on,
Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from
That freely render'd me these news for true.
You cast Andsum Let us or That in
North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom I| And make thee rich for doing me such
Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid:
Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
I see a strange confession in thine eye:
Thou shak'st thy head and hold'st it fear, or sin,
To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead;
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
Mor. lam sorry, I should force you to believe, He told me, that rebellion had bad luck,
That, which I would to heaven I had not seen: And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold: But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, With that, he gave his able horse the head,
Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreath’d, And, bending forward, struck his armed heels To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down Against the panting sides of his poor jade
The never-daunted Percy to the earth, Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,
From whence with life he never more sprung up. He seem'd in running to devour the way,
In few, his death (whose spirit lent a fire Staying no longer question.
Even to the dollest peasant in his camp,) North. Ha! - Again.
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? From the best temper'd courage in his troops: Of Hotspur, coldspur ? that rebellion
For from his metal was his party steel'd; Had met ill luck?
Which once in him abated, all the rest Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what;
Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. If my young lord your son have not the day,
And as the thing, that's heavy in itself, Upon niine honour, for a silken point
Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed,
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim,
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, Bard. Who, he?
Fly from the field. Then was that poble Worcester He was some hilding fellow, that had stoľn
Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, The horse, he rode on; and, upon my life,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. Had three times slain the appearance of the king, Enter Mortox.
'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Of those, that turn’d their backs, and, in his flight, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume:
Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood Is, that the king hath won, and hath sent out Hath left a witness'd usurpation. –
A speedy power, to encounter you, my lord,
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord, And Westmoreland: this is the news at full.
North. For this I shall have time enough to moura.
In poison there is physic; and these news, North. How doth my son, and brother?
Having been well, that would have made me sick, Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek Being sick, have in some measure made me well. Is apter, than thy tongue, to tell thy errand.
And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Impatient of his fit, breaks, like a fire, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs,
Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif!
Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron! And approach Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
The ragged’st hour, that time and spite dare bring, Ending with brother, son, and all are dead.
To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet: Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not nature's hand But, for my lord your son,
Keep the wild food confin'd! let order die! North. Why, he is dead ?
And let this world no longer be a stage,
To feed contention in a lingering act;
And darkness be the burier of the dead!
Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.
As m Seem This v As fish
Turns Sappo He's fc
And do Offair
Tellst Gaspii and m Norti
Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your ho-thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my nour!
heels. I was never manned with an agate till now: but Mor. The lives of all your loving complices I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile Lean on your health ; the which, if you give o'er apparel, and send you back again to your master, for To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose You cast the event of war, my noble lord,
chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard And summ’d the account of chance, before you said, - grow in the palm of my hand, than lie shall get one on Let us make head! It was your presurmise,
his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is That in the dole of blows your son might drop. a face-royal. God may finish it, when he will, it is not You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, More likely to fall in, than to get o’er.
for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and You were advis’d, his flesh was capable
yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since
and yours; he liked not the security.
his Knew, that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas, tongue be hotter !-Awhoreson Achitophel! a rascally That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one: yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, And yet we ventur’d; for the gain propos'd
and then stand upon security! The whoreson Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear’d,
smooth-pates do now wear nothing buthigh shoes, and And, since we are o'erset, venture again.
bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thoCome, we will all put forth, body, and goods. rough with them in honest taking up, then they must
Mor. 'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, stand upon-security. I had as lief, they would put
ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. The gentle archbishop of York is up,
I looked, he should have sent me two and twenty yards. With well-appointed powers; he is a man, of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me secuWho with a double surety binds his followers. rity. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the My lord, your son had only but the corps,
horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines But shadows, and the shows of men, to fight: through it: and yet cannot he see, though he have his For that same word, rebellion, did divide
own lantern to light him. – Where's Bardolph?
Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship
I were manned, horsed, and wived.
Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an Attendant.
Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman, that committed Sappos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
the prince for striking him about Bardolph.
Fal. Wait close, I will not see him.
Ch. Just. What's he that
Atten. He, my lord: but he hath sirce done good
service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going And more, and less, do flock to follow him.
with some charge to thelord John of Lancaster.
Atten. Sir John Falstaff!
Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deaf.
Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf.
with him. SCENE II. - London. A street.
Atten. Sir John Enter Sir Joux Falstaff, with his Page bearing his Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not sword and buckler.
wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though water?
it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse Page.He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy shame to beg, than to be on the worst side, were it worse water: but, for the party, that owed it, he might than the name of rebellion can tell, how to make it. have more diseases, than he knew for.
Atten. You mistake me, sir ! Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The Fal. Why, sir, did I say, you were an honest man? brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had able to vent any thing, that tends to laughter, more lied in my throat, if I hrad said so. than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not only witty Atten. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and in myself, but the cause, that wit is in other mens. I do your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you, here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhel- you lie in your throat, if you say, I am any other, than med all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into an honest
man. my service for any other reason, than to set me off, why Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that, then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, 'which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me,