Puslapio vaizdai


KING Henry the Fourth.

Henry, Prince of Wales,

John, Prince of Lancafter, } Sons to the King.



Archbishop of York, Enemies to the King.

Owen Glendower,

Sir Richard Vernon,

Sir Michell,


Sir Walter Blunt, of the King's Party.

Sir John Falstaff.

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Lady Percy, Wife to Hot-fpur.

Lady Mortimer, Daughter to Glendower, and Wife to

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Hoftefs Quickly.

Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, two Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants.





A C T I.


The Court at LONDON.

Enter King Henry, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Weftmorland, and others.



O, fhaken as we are, fo wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe fhort-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in ftronds afar remote! No more the thirsty entrance of this foil Shall dawb, her lips with her own children's blood: No more fhall trenching War channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hoftile paces. Thofe oppofed arms` Which like the meteors of a troubled heav'n, All of one nature, of one fubftance bred, Did lately meet in the inteftine fhock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now in mutual well-befeeming ranks March all one way, and be no more oppos'd



Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-fheathed knife,
No more fhall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the fepulchre of Christ,

(Whofe foldier now, under whofe bleffed Crofs
We are impreffed, and engag'd to fight)
Forthwith a power of English fhall we levy;
Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb,
To chase these pagans, in those holy fields
Over whofe acres walk'd those bleffed feet
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd
For our advantage on the bitter Crofs.
But this our purpofe is a twelvemonth old,
And bootlefs 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle coufin Westmorland,
What yefternight our council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience.

Weft. My Liege, this hafte was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge fet down.
But yefternight: when all athwart there came
A poft from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whofe worft was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against th' irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Wellbman taken;
A thousand of his people butchered,
Upon whofe dead corps there was fuch mifuse,
Such beaftly fhameless transformation
By thofe Welfwomen done, as may not be
Without much fhame re-told or fpoken of.

K. Henry. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil

Brake off our bufinefs for the holy land.

Weft. This, matcht with other like, my gracious Lord;
Farther uneven and unwelcome news

Came from the North, and thus it did import.
On holy-rood day, the gallant Hot-fpur there

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Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon spent a fad and bloody hour:
As by difcharge of their artillery,

And fhape 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 iffue any way.

K. Henry. Here is a dear and true induftrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each foil

Betwixt that Holmedon, and this feat of ours:
And he hath brought us fmooth and welcome news.
The Earl of Dowglas is difcomfited,

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty Knights,
Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter fee
On Holmedon's plains. Of prifoners, Hot-fpur took
Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest fon

3 'Unto the beaten Douglas, and the Earls
Of Athol, 'Murry, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoil?

A gallant prize? ha, coufin, is it not?

Weft. In faith, a conqueft for a Prince to boaft of. [fin,
K.Henry. Yea, there thou mak'ft me fad, and mak'ft me
In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father of fo bleft a fon;

A fon, who is the theam of honour's tongue,
Amongst a grove the very ftreighteft plant,
Who is fweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilft I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and difhonour ftain the brow

Of my young Harry. O could it be prov'd,
That fome night-tripping Fairy had exchang'd,
In cradle cloaths, our children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet ;
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts. What think

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Of this young Percy's pride? the prifoners,
Which he in this adventure hath furpriz'd,
To his own use he keeps, and fends me word
I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

Weft. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all aspects;

Which makes him 'plume himfelf, and bristle up
The creft of youth against your dignity.

K. Henry. But I have fent for him to anfwer this;
And for this caufe a while we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerufalem.

Coufin, on Wednesday next, our council we
Will hold at Windfor, fo inform the Lords:
But come your felf with speed to us again;
For more is to be faid, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.
Weft. I will, my Liege,


An Apartment of the Prince's.


Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff. Fal. NOW, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

P. Henry. Thou art fo fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbuttoning thee after fupper, and fleeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand that truly, which thou would't 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 tongnes of bawds, and dials the figns of leaping-houfes, and the bleffed Sun himself a fair hot wench in flamecolour'd taffata; I fee no reafon why thou fhould't be fo fuperfluous, to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed you come near me now, Hal.

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