Twice saying pardon doth not pardon twain, But makes one pardon strong. I pardon him. Duch. With all my heart A god on earth thou art! Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot, With all the rest of that consorted crew, new. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may compare As thus: Come, little ones; and then again : [Music. For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock; Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Groom. Hail, royal prince! K. Rich. Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York, Wit much ado at length have gotten leave How went he under him? Groom. So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! 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. Keep. My lord, wilt please you to fall to ? Lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help! help! help! [Beats the Keeper. This dead king to the living king I'll bear; [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-Windsor. A Room in the Castle. Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE and YORK, with Lords and Attendants. With clog of conscience and sour melancholy, Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear, For, though mine enemy thou hast ever been, Is that the rebels have consum'd with fire Our town of Cicester, in Glostershire; But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Welcome, my lord; what is the news? High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a coffin. Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present Thy buried fear; herein all breathless lies The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happi- Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought. ness. The next news is, I have to London sent The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent; [Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London Enter PERCY, with the BISHOP OF CARLISLE. Percy. The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster, Boling. Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I the 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 shades 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 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, In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt. FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV. Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, Upon whose dead corpses there was such misuse, K. Hen. It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy land. West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news Came from the north, and thus it did import. At Holmedon met, 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, Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news: Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights, On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur took To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol, Of Murray, Angus, and Monteith. And is not this an honourable spoil ? A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? It is a conquest for a prince to of boast. K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin, In envy that my lord Northumberland A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue; coz', Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife. West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester, Malevolent to you in all aspects; Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this: Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Another Room in the Palace. Enter HENRY Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal Now Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What the devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata; I see no reason, why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,-he, that wandering knight 80 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 king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's beauty; let us 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; for the fortune of us that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd 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 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, 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? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. B. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic, the law?Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O, rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge! P. Hen. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court I can tell you. P. Hen. For obtaining of suits ? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits; whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. P. Hen. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bag. pipe. P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moorditch. Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes, and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,-sweet young prince. But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the council rated me, the other day, in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely: but I regarded him not; and yet he talked wisely, and in the street, too. P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out 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: Ill 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 hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried, Stand, to a true man. P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned. 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. P. Hen. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. 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 goiug. Poins. You will, chops ? 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 mad-cap. Fal. Why, that's well said. 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 believed, that the true prince may (for recreation sake) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time ivant 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 Gads. hill, 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 off 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 gar ments. 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 proof of this lies the jat. Poins. Farewell, my lord. 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. [Exit POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will awhile 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 holidays, 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. Another Room in the Palace. 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, And you have found me; for, accordingly, Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves North. My lord K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I see dan ger And disobedience in thine eye. O, sir, [Exit WORCESTER, Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, Answer'd neglectingly I know not what ; He should or he should not; for he made me mad, Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark!) And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd And, I beseech you, let not his report Betwixt my love and your high majesty. Blunt. The circumstance consider'd, good my lord Whatever Harry Percy then had said To such a person, and in such a place, At such a time, with all the rest re-told, May reasonably die, and never rise To do him wrong, or any way impeach What then he said, so he unsay it now. K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners; That we, at our own charge, shall ransom straight Hot. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, In single opposition, hand to hand, He did confound the best part of an hour In changing hardiment with great Glendower. driuk, 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 belie him ; He never did encounter with Glendower; I tell thee, He durst as well have met the devil alone, As Owen Glendower for an enemy. Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, Or you [Exeunt KING HENRY, BLUNT, and train. North. What! drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile; And shed my dear blood drop by drop i'the dust, Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, Wor. I cannot blame him: was he not proclaim'd, From whence he, intercepted, did return To be depos'd, and shortly murdered. 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, And, for his sake, wear the detested blot Of murderous subornation,-shall it be That you a world of curses undergo, Being the agents, or base second means, The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? O, pardon me that I descend so low To show the line and the predicament Wherein you range under this subtle king. Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, Or fill up chronicles in time to come, That men of your nobility and power, Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf,As both of you, God pardon it! have done,To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken, That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off, By him for whom these shames ye underwent ? No!-Yet time serves wherein you may redeem Your banish'd honours, and restore yourselves Into the good thoughts of the world again : Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt Of this proud king; who studies, day and night, To answer all the debt he owes to you, Even with the bloody payment of your Therefore I say Wor. deaths. Peace, cousin, say no more. And now I will unclasp a secret book, And to your quick-conceiving discontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous; As full of peril and adventurous spirit As to o'erwalk a current, roaring loud, On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. Hot. If he fall in, good night; or sink or swim; Send danger from the east unto the west, So honour cross it from the north to south, And let them grapple. O! the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare! North. Imagination of some great exploit Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship! Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here, That are your prisoners Hot. Those same noble Scots I'll keep them all; By Heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them! No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: I'll keep them, by this hand! Wor. Yon start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes. |