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With the Life and Death of HENRY,

firnamed HOT-SPUR.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

of the

} companior S

KING HENRY JV.

Westmorland, Henry, Prince

Sir Walter King's of Wales, Csons to the

Blunt,

party. John, Duke of

King Sir John Falstaff. Lancaster.

Poins, Worcester,

Gads-hi!l, companions of Northumber

Peto, Falgiaf. land,

Bardolph, Hoi-spur,

Lady Percy, wife to HotMortimer,

Spur. Archbishop of

Lady Mortimer, daughter to York,

enemiés to ; Glendower, and wife to Douglas.

the King.

Mortimer. Owen Glen

Hotels Quickly. dower

Sherill, Vintner, ChamberSir Richard

lain, Drawers, two CarVernon.

riers, Travellers, and Sir Michell,

Attendants.
SCENE, England.

ACT 1. SCENE 1.

The court of London. Enter King Henry, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of

Westmorland, and others.
K. Henry."

O shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace.

to punt, " And breathe short-winded accents of new broils - To be commence'd in ttronds afar remote. “ No more the thirsty entrance of this foil “ Shall trempe * her lips with her own chilurens' blood: No more shall trenching war channel her fields, « Nor bruise her flow'rets with the armed hoofs * i. e. moißen; from the French tremper,

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> " “ or Han ile paces Those opposed files,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heav'n, " All of one nature, of one substance bred, “ Did lately meet in the intestine shock“ “ And furious clofe of civil butchery, “ Shall now in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, oc 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 cut his master.” Therefore, friends,
As far as to the Tepulchre of Christ,
(Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed, and engaged to fight),
Forth with 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 naild
For our advantage on the bitter crofs.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go :
Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear;
Of you, my gentle cousin, Westmorland,
What yesternight our council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience *.

Weft. My Liege, this halte was hot in question,
And many limits t of the charge set down
But yesternight; when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was, that che noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by 'the rude hands of that Welchman taken ;
A thousand of his people butchered ;
Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shameless transformation,
By those Welchwomen done, as may not be,
Without much shame, re-told or spoken of.

K. Henry. It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil, Brake off our business for the holy land.

Extediene, for expedition. + Limits, for eslimaies.

Weft. 1

Weft. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious For more uneven and unwelcome news (Lord; Came from the north, and thus it did import. On holy-rood day, the gallant Hot-fpur there, Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald, That ever-valiant and approved Scot, At Holmedon spent a fad and bloody lour : As by discharge of their artillery, And shape of likelihood, the news was told; For he that brought it, in the very heat And pride of their contention, did take horse, Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Henry. Here is a dear and true industrious friend, Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Stain'd with the variation of each soil Betwixt that Holmedon, and this seat of ours : And he hath brought us smooth and welcome newś. The Earl of Douglas is discomfited ; Ten thousand bold Scots, three and twenty Knights, Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hot-fpur took Mordac the Earl of Fife, and eldest son To beaten Douglas, and the Earls of Athol, Of Moray, Angus, and Menteith. And is not this an honourable spoil? A gallant prize ? ha, cousin, is it not?

Weft. In faith a conquest for a prince to boast of.

K. Henry. Yea, there thou mak'st ine sad, and mak's In

my

Lord Northumberland Should be the father of fo bless'd a son : A fon, who is the theme of Honour's tongue : Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; Who is sweet Fortune's minion, and her pride : Whilft I, by looking on the praise of him, See riot and dishonour stain the brow Of my young Harry. O could it be prov'd, That some night-tripping fairy had exchange’d, In cradle-cloaths, our children where they lay, And call mine Percy, his Plantagenet ; Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. [lin, But let him from my thoughts.-- What think you, couOf this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, Vol. IV.

L

Which

envy, that

(me fin

Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,
To his own use he keeps, and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordac Earl of Fife.

Weft. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all aspects ;
Which makes him plume himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

K. Henry. But I have sent for him to answer this, And for this cause a while we must neglect Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we Will hold at Windsor, so inform the Lords : But come yourself with speed to us again; For more is to be said, and to be done, Than out of danger can be uttered. Weft. I will, my Liege.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. An apartment of the Prince's. Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff.

Fal. Now, Hal, what time of the day is it, lad?

P. Henry. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbottoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly, which thou would'It truly know. What a devil haft thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of fack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed fun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata ; I see no reason why thou should't be fo fuperfluous, 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 Phæbus, he, that wand'ring knight fo fair *. And I

pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art King – as God save thy Grace, (Majesty I should say; for grace thou wilt have none)

P. Henry. What! none ?

Fal No, by my troth, not fo much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. • A fine of an oid ballad.

P. Henry,

P. Henry. 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 booty. Let us be Diana's forelters, 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. Henry. 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 fea, being govern'd as the sea is by the moon. As for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatch'don Monday night, and most diffolutely 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 mine hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle * ; and is not a buff-jerkin a most sweet rob 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. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast calld her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou halt paid all there. P. Henry. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would

and where it would not, I have us’d my credit, Fal. Yea, and so us’d it, that were it

npt * This alludes to the name Shakespear firft gave to this buffoon character, which was Sir Fobn Oldcaftle: and when he changed the name, he forgot to strike out this expreilion that alluded to it. The reason of the chaige was ihis; one Sir John Oldcastle having suffered in the time of Hinry V. for the opinion of Wickliffe, it gave offence; and therefore the poet altered it to Falstaff, and endeavours to remove the scandal in the epilogue to the fecond part of Henry, IV. Mr. Il'aburton.

rent,

Aretch;

here appa

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