living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it :therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism. [Exit. SCENE II. The Rebel Camp. Enter WORCESTER and VERNON. Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, sir Richard, The liberal kind offer of the king. Ver. 'Twere best, he did. Wor. Then are we all undone. It is not possible, it cannot be, The king should keep his word in loving us ; It hath the excuse of youth, and heat of blood; A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen; And on his father's ;-we did train him on ; Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so. Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS; and Officers and Soldiers,behind! My lord of Westmoreland.-Uncle, what news? [] The name of Hotspur will privilege him from censure. JOHNS. Doug. Marry, and shall, and very willingly. [Exit. Wor. I told him gently of our grievances, Re-enter DOUGLAS. Doug. Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown A brave defiance in king Henry's teeth, And Westmoreland, that was engag'd,2 did bear it; Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on. Wor. The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king, And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight. Hot. O, 'would the quarrel lay upon our heads; Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue; And chid his truant youth with such a grace, Of teaching, and of learning, instantly. There did he pause: But let me tell the world, England did never owe so sweet a hope, Upon his follies; never did I hear [2] Engag'd is delivered as an hostage. A few lines before, upon the reBurn of Worcester, he orders Westmoreland to be dismissed. JOHNS Of any prince, so wild, at liberty: 3. Arm, arm, with speed :—And, fellows, soldiers, friends, Better consider what you have to do, Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue, Can lift your blood up with persuasion. Enter a Messenger. Mess. My lord, here are letters for you. O gentlemen, the time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely, were too long, Still ending at the arrival of an hour. An if we live, we live to tread on kings; Enter another Messenger. Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apacé. Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale, For I profess not talking; Only this Let each man do his best and here draw I A sword, whose temper I intend to stain [The Trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt. SCENE III. Plain near Shrewsbury. Excursions, and Parties fighting. Alarum to the Battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and BLUNT, meeting. Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus [3] Of any prince that played such pranks, and was not confined as a madman. JOH. [4] This was the word of battle on Percy's side. POPE [5] i. e. one might wager heaven to earth. WARB. Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas ; Because some tell me that thou art a king. Blunt. They tell thee true. Doug. The lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, king Harry, This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee, Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner. Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot; And thou shalt find a king that will revenge Lord Stafford's death. [They fight, and BLUNT is slain. Enter HOTSPUR. Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus, Inever had triumph'd upon a Scot. Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king. Hot. Where? Hot. This, Douglas? no, I know this face full well: A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt; Sembably furnish'd like the king himself. Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes! A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? Hot. The king hath many marching in his coats. Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats; I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, Until I meet the king. Hot. Up and away; Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. Other Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF. [Exeunt. Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon the pate.-Soft! who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt ;-there's honour for you; here's no vanity!-I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have [6] A play upon shot, as it means the part of a reckoning, and a missive weapon discharged from artillery. JOHNS, led my raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's but three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here? Enter Prince HENRY. P. Hen. What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword: Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies, Whose deaths are unreveng'd: Pr'ythee, lend thy sword. Fal. O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe a while.-Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms,✨ as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure. P. Hen. He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. Lend me thy sword, I pr'ythee. Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt. P. Hen. Give it me: What, is it in the case? Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city. [The Prince draws out a bottle of sack. P. Hen What, is't a time to jest and dally now? [Throws it at him, and exit. Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in my way, so if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not such grinning honour as sir Walter hath: Give me life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes unlooked for, and there's an end. [Exit. SCENE IV. Another part of the Field. Alarums. Excursions. Enter the King, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN, and WESTMORELAND. K. Hen. I pr'ythee, Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much :Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him. P. John. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too. [7] Meaning Gregory VII. called Hildebrand. This furious friar surmounted almost invincible obstacles to deprive the emperor of his right of investiture of bishops, which his predecessors had long attempted in vain. WAR. [8] A carbonado is a piece of meat cut cross-wise for the gridiron. JOH. |