The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

Prince. Thou speak’st as if I would deny my name.

Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

Prince. Why, then I see

A very valiant rebel of the name.

I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more.

Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere, Nor can one England brook a double reign Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come To end the one of us and would to God Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!

Prince. I’ll make it greater ere I part from thee, And all the budding honours on thy crest I’ll crop to make a garland for my head.

Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.

They fight.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal! Nay, you shall find no boy’s play here, I can tell you.

Enter Douglas. He fighteth with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were dead. [Exit Douglas.] The Prince killeth Percy.

Hot. O Harry, thou hast robb’d me of my youth!

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 flesh.

But thoughts the slave, of life, and life time’s fool, And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy, But that the earthy and cold hand of death Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust, And food for- [Dies.]

Prince. For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart!

Ill-weav’d ambition, how much art thou shrunk!

When that this body did contain a spirit, 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.

If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

I should not make so dear a show of zeal.

But let my favours hide thy mangled face; And, even in thy behalf, I’ll thank myself For doing these fair rites of tenderness.

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not rememb’red in thy epitaph!

He spieth Falstaff on the ground.

What, old acquaintance? Could not all this flesh Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!

I could have better spar’d a better man.

O, I should have a heavy miss of thee If I were much in love with vanity!

Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day, Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.

Embowell’d will I see thee by-and-by; Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. Exit.

Falstaff riseth up.

Fal. Embowell’d? If thou embowel me to-day, I’ll give you leave to powder me and eat me too tomorrow. ‘Sblood, ‘twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie; I am no counterfeit. To die is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man; but to counterfeit dying when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life. Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? By my faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit. Therefore I’ll make him sure; yea, and I’ll swear I kill’d him. Why may not he rise as well as I?

Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah [stabs him], with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

He takes up Hotspur on his hack. [Enter Prince, and John of Lancaster.

Prince. Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh’d Thy maiden sword.

John. But, soft! whom have we here?

Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?

Prince. I did; I saw him dead,

Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alive, Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?

I prithee speak. We will not trust our eyes Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seem’st.

Fal. No, that’s certain! I am not a double man; but if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There ‘s Percy. If your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you.

Prince. Why, Percy I kill’d myself, and saw thee dead!

Fal. Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down, and out of breath, and so was he; but we rose both at an instant and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believ’d, so; if not, let them that should reward valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I’ll take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh. If the man were alive and would deny it, zounds! I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

John. This is the strangest tale that ever I beard.

Prince. This is the strangest fellow, brother John.

Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back.

For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I’ll gild it with the happiest terms I have.

A retreat is sounded.

The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.

Come, brother, let’s to the highest of the field, To see what friends are living, who are dead.

Exeunt [Prince Henry and Prince John].

Fal. I’ll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I’ll grow less; for I’ll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do.

Exit [bearing off the body].

Scene V.

Another part of the field.

The trumpets sound. [Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland, with Worcester and Vernon prisoners.

King. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace, Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?

And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?

Misuse the tenour of thy kinsman’s trust?

Three knights upon our party slain to-day, A noble earl, and many a creature else Had been alive this hour,

If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

Wor. What I have done my safety urg’d me to; And I embrace this fortune patiently, Since not to be avoided it fails on me.

King. Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too; Other offenders we will pause upon.

Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, [guarded].

How goes the field?

Prince. The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw The fortune of the day quite turn’d from him, The Noble Percy slain and all his men Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest; And falling from a hill,he was so bruis’d That the pursuers took him. At my tent The Douglas is, and I beseech Your Grace I may dispose of him.

King. With all my heart.

Prince. Then brother John of Lancaster, to you This honourable bounty shall belong.

Go to the Douglas and deliver him

Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free.

His valour shown upon our crests today Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, Even in the bosom of our adversaries.

John. I thank your Grace for this high courtesy, Which I shall give away immediately.

King. Then this remains, that we divide our power.

You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland, Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop, Who, as we hear, are busily in arms.

Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.

Rebellion in this laud shall lose his sway, Meeting the check of such another day; And since this business so fair is done, Let us not leave till all our own be won.

Exeunt.

THE END

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1598

SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV

by William Shakespeare

Dramatis Personae

RUMOUR, the Presenter

KING HENRY THE FOURTH

HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards HENRY

PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER

PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER

THOMAS, DUKE OF CLARENCE

Sons of Henry IV

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND

SCROOP, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

LORD MOWBRAY

LORD HASTINGS

LORD BARDOLPH

SIR JOHN COLVILLE

TRAVERS and MORTON, retainers of Northumberland Opposites against King Henry IV

EARL OF WARWICK

EARL OF WESTMORELAND

EARL OF SURREY

EARL OF KENT

GOWER

HARCOURT

BLUNT

Of the King’s party

LORD CHIEF JUSTICE

SERVANT, to Lord Chief Justice

SIR JOHN FALSTAFF

EDWARD POINS

BARDOLPH

PISTOL

PETO

Irregular humourists

PAGE, to Falstaff

ROBERT SHALLOW and SILENCE, country Justices DAVY, servant to Shallow

FANG and SNARE, Sheriff’s officers

RALPH MOULDY

SIMON SHADOW

THOMAS WART

FRANCIS FEEBLE

PETER BULLCALF

Country soldiers

FRANCIS, a drawer

LADY NORTHUMBERLAND

LADY PERCY, Percy’s widow

HOSTESS QUICKLY, of the Boar’s Head, Eastcheap DOLL TEARSHEET

LORDS, Attendants, Porter, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, Servants, Speaker of the Epilogue

SCENE: England

INDUCTION

INDUCTION.

Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND’S Castle Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues RUMOUR. Open your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?

I, from the orient to the drooping west, Making the wind my posthorse, still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth.

Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.

I speak of peace while covert emnity, Under the smile of safety, wounds the world; And who but Rumour, who but only I,

Make fearful musters and prepar’d defence, Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe

Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, And of so easy and so plain a stop

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wav’ring multitude, Can play upon it. But what need I thus My well-known body to anatomize

Among my household? Why is Rumour here?

I run before King Harry’s victory,

Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury, Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, Quenching the flame of bold rebellion Even with the rebels’ blood. But what mean I To speak so true at first? My office is To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell Under the wrath of noble Hotspur’s sword, And that the King before the Douglas’ rage Stoop’d his anointed head as low as death.

This have I rumour’d through the peasant towns Between that royal field of Shrewsbury And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, Where Hotspur’s father, old Northumberland, Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on, And not a man of them brings other news Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour’s tongues They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

Exit

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