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A11966
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The history of Henrie the Fourth vvith the battell at Shrewsburie, betweene the King and Lord Henry Percy, surnamed Henrie Hotspur of the north. With the humorous conceits of Sir Iohn Falstalffe [sic].; King Henry IV. Part 1
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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.
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1598
(1598)
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STC 22280; ESTC S111128
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51,465
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82
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THE HISTORY OF HENRIE THE FOVRTH With the battell at Shrewsburie betweene the King and Lord Henry Percy surnamed Henrie Hotspur of the North. With the humorous conceits of Sir Iohn Falstalffe AT LONDON Printed by P. S. for Andrew Wise dwelling in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Angell 1598. THE HISTORIE OF Henry the fourth Enter the King Lord Iohn of Lancaster Earle of Westmerland with others King SO shaken as we are so wan with care Find we a time for frighted peace to pant And breath short winded accents of new broiles To be commencte in stronds a far remote No more tâ—e thirsty entrance of this soile Shal dawbe her lips with her own childrens bloud No more shall trenching war channel her fields Nor bruise her flourets with the armed hoofes Of hostile paces those opposed eies Which like the mâ—teors of a troubled heauen Al of one nature of one substance bred Did lately meete in the intestine shocke And furious close of ciuill butcherie Shall now in mutuall welbeseeming rankes March all one way and be no more oppos'd Against acquaintance kindred and allyes The edge of war like an ill sheathed knife No more shall cut his maister therefore friends As far as to the sepulcher of Christ Whose soldiour now vnder whose blessed crosse We are impressed and ingag'd to fight Forthwith a power of English shall we leauy Whose armes were moulded in their mothers wombe To chase these pagans in those holy fields Ouer whose acres walkt those blessed feet Which 1400. yeares ago were naild For our aduantage on the bitter crosse But this our purpose now is twelue month old And bootelesse t is to tell you we wil go Therefore we meet not nowe then let me heare Of you my gentle Cosen Westmerland What yesternight our counsell did decree In forwarding this deere expedience West My liege this haste was hot in question And many limits of the charge set down But yesternight when all athwart there came A post from Wales loden with heauy newes Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer Leading the men of Herdforshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower Was by the rude hands of that Welchman taken A thousand of his people butchered Vpon whose dead corpes there was such misuse Such beastly shamelesse transformation By those Welch-women done as may not be Without much shame retould or spoken of King It seemes then that the tidings of this broile Brake off our businesse for the holy land West This matcht with other did my gratious L. For more vneuen and vnwelcome newes Came from the North and thus it did import On holly rode day the gallant Hotspur there Yong Harry Percy and braue Archibold That euer valiant and approued Scot At Holmâ—don met where they did spend A sad and bloudy houre As by discharge of their artillery And shâ—pe of likelihood the newes was told For he that brought them in the very heat And pride of â—heir contention did take horse Vncertaine of the issue any way King Here is deere a true industrious friend Sir Walter Blunt new lighted from his horse Staind with the variation of each soile Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours And he hath brought vs smothe and welcom newes The Earle of Douglas is discomfited Ten thousand bould Scots two and twenty knights Balkt in their own bloud Did sir Walter see On Holmedons plaines of prisoners Hotspur tooke Mordake Earle of Fife and eldest sonne To beaten Douglas and the Earle of Athol Of Murrey Angus and Menteith And is not this an honorable spoile A gallant priz Ha coosen is it not In faith it is West A conquest for a Prince to boast of King Yea there thou makst me sad and makst me sinne In enuy that my Lord Northumberland Should be the father to so blest a sonne A sonne who is the theame of honors tongue Amongst a groue the very straightest plant Who is sweet fortunes minion and her pride Whilst I by looking on the praise of him See ryot and dishonour staine the brow Of my young Harry O that it could be prou'd That some night tripping fairy had exchang'd In cradle clothes our children where they lay And cald mine Percy his Plantagenet Then would I haue his Harry and he mine But let him from my thoughts What think you coose Of this young Percies pride The prisoners Which he in this aduenture hath surprizd To his own vse he keepes and sends me word I shal haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife West This is his vncles teaching This is Worcester Maleuolent to you in all aspects Which makes him prune himselfe and bristle vp The crest of youth against your dignity King But I haue sent for him to answere this And for this cause a while we must neglect Out holy purpose to Ierusalem Coosen on wednesday next our councel we wil hold At Windsore so informe the Lords But come your selfe with speed to vs againe For more is to be said and to be done Then out of anger can be vttered West I will my liege Exeunt Enter prince of Wales and Sir Iohn Falstaffe Falst. Now Hal what time of day is it lad Prince Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of olde sacke and vnbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping vpon benches afternoone that thou hast forgotten to demaunde that truelie which thou wouldest trulie knowe What a diuell hast thou to do with the time of the daie vnles houres were cups of sacke and minutes capons and clockes the tongues of Baudes and Dialles the signes of leaping houses and the blessed sunne himselfe a faire hot wench in flame-couloured taffata I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demaunde the time of the day Falst. Indeede you come neere me nowe Hal for wee that take purses go by the moone and the seuen stars and not by Phoebus he that wandring knight so faire and I prethe sweet wag when thou art a king as God saue thy grace maiestie I should say for grace thou wilt haue none Prince What none Falst. No by my troth not so much as will serue to bee prologue to an egge and butter Prin. Wel how then come roundly roundly Falst. Marry then sweet wag when thou art king let not vs that are squiers of the nights bodie bee called theeues of the daies beauty let vs be Dianaes forresters gentlemen of the shade minions of the moone and let men say wee be men of good gouernement being gouerned as the sea is by our noble and chast mistresse the moone vnder whose countenaunce we steale Prince Thou saiest well and it holds wel to for the fortune of vs that are the moones men doth ebbe and flow like the sea being gouerned as the sea is by the moone as for proofe Now a purse of gold most resolutely snatcht on Munday night and most dissolutely spent on tuesday morning got with swearing lay by and spent with crying bring in now in as low an ebbe as the
after straight And tel him so for I will ease my hart Albeit I make a hazard of my head Nor. What dronk with choler stay pause a while Here comes your vncle Enter Wor. Hot. Speake of Mortimer Zounds I will speake of him and let my soule Want mercy if I do not ioine with him Yea on his part I le empty all these vaines And shed my deere bloud drop by drop in the dust But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high in the aire as this vnthankefull king As this ingrate and cankred Bullingbrooke Nor. Brother the king hath made your nephew mad Wor. Who strooke this heat vp after I was gone Hot. He wil forsooth haue all my prisoners And when I vrg'd the ransome once againe Of my wiues brother then his cheeke lookt pale And on my face he turn'd an eie of death Trembling euen at the name of Mortimer Worst I cannot blame him was not he proclaim'd By Richard that dead is the next of bloud North He was I heard the proclamation And then it was when the vnhappy king Whose wrongs in vs God pardon did set forth Vpon his Irish expedition From whence he intercepted did returne To be depos'd and shortly murdered Worst And for whose death we in the worlds wide mouth Liue scandaliz'd and foâ—ly spoâ—en of Hot. But soft I pray you did king Richard then Proclaime my brother Edmund Mortimer Hâ—ire to the crowne North. He did my selfe did heare it Hot. Nay then I cannot blâ—me his coosen king That wisht him on the barren mountaines starue But shal it be that you that set the crowne Vpon the head of this forgetfulman And for his sake weare the detested blot Of murtheâ—ous subornation shal it be That you a world of curses vndergo Being the agents or base second meanes The cordes the ladder or the hangman rather O pardon me that I descend so low To shew the line and the predicament Wherein you range vnder this subtil king Shall it for shame be spoken in these daies Orfil vp Chronicles in time to come That men of your nobility and power Did gage them both in an vniust behalfe As both of you God pardon it haue done To put down Richard that sweet louely Rose And plant this thorne this canker Bullingbrooke And shal it in more shame be further spoken That you are foold diâ—carded and shâ—oke off By him for whom these shames ye vnderwent No yet time serues wherein you may redeeme Your banisht honors and restore your selues Into the gâ—â—d thoughts of the world againe Reuenge the ieering and disdaind contempt Of this proud king who studies day and night To answere all the debt he owes to you Euen with the bloudie paiment of your deaths Therefore I say Wor. Peace coosen say no more And now I will vnclaspe a secret booke And to your quicke conceiuing discontents I le reade you matter deepe and daungerous As full of perill and aduenterous spirit As to ore walke a Current roring lowd On the vnstedfast footing of a speare Hot. If he fall in god-night or sinke or swim Send danger from the East vnto the West So honor crosse it from the North to South And let them grapple O the bloud more stirs To rou'e a lyon than to start a hare North. Imagination of some great exploit Driues him beyond the bounds of patience By heauen me thinkes it were an easie leape To plucke bright honour from the palefac'd moone Or diue into the bottome of the deepe Where fadome line cou'd neuer touch the ground And plucke vp drowned honour by the locks So he that doth redeeme her thence might weare Without corâ—iuall aâ—l her dignities But out vpon this halfe fac't fellowship Wor He apprehends a world of figures here But not the forme of what he should attend Good coosen giue me audience for a while Hot. I crie you mercie Wor Those same noble Scots that are your prisoners Hot. I le keepe them all By God he shall not haue a Scot of them No if a Scot would saue his soule he shall not I le keepe them by this hand Wor. You start away And lend no care vnto my purposes Those prisoners you shall keepe Hot. Nay I will that 's flat He said he would not ransome Mortimer Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer But I will find him when he lies asleepe And in his care I le hollow Mortimer Nay I le haue a starling shal be taught to speake Nothing but Mortimer and giue it him To keepe his anger still in motion Wor. Heare you cosen a word Hot. All studies here I solemnly defie Saue how to gall and pinch this Bullenbrooke And that same sword and buckler Prince of Wales But that I thinke his father loues him not And would be glad he met with some mischance I would haue him poisoned with a pot of ale Wor. Farewel kinsman I le talke to you When you are better temperd to attend Nor. Why what a waspe-stung and impatient foole Art thou to breake into this womans moode Tying thine care to no toung but thine owne Hot. Why looke you I am whipt and scourg'd with rods Netled and stung with pismires when I heare Of this vile polititian Bullingbrooke In Richards time what do you call the place A plague vpon it it is in Glocestershire T was where the mad-cap duke his vncle kept His vncle Yorke where I first bowed my knee Vnto this king of smiles this Bullenbrooke Zbloud when you and he came backe from Rauenspurgh North. At Barkly castle Hot. You say true Why what a candy deale of curtesie This fawning greyhound then did profer me Looke when his infant fortune came to age And gentle Harry Percy and kind coosen O the diuill take such coosoners god forgiue me Good vncle tell your tale I haue done Wor. Nay if you haue not to it againe We wil stay your leisure Hot. I haue done Ifaith Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners Deliuer them vp without their ransome straight And make the Douglas sonne your only meane For Powers in Scotland which for diuers reasons Which I shall send you written be assur'd Wil easely be granted you my Lord. Your sonne in Scotland being thus emploied Shal secretly into the bosome creepe Of that same noble prelat welbelou'd The Archbishop Hot. Of Yorke is it not Wor. True who beares hard His brothers death at Bristow the lord Scroop I speake not this in estimation As what I thinke might be but what I know Is ruminated plotted and set downe And onely staies but to behold the face Of that occasion that shal bring it on Hot. I smell it Vpon my life it will do well Nort. Before the game is afoote thou still letst slip Hot. Why it cannot chuse but be a noble plot And then the power of Scotland and of Yorke To ioine with Mortimer ha Wor. And so they shall Hot. In faith it is exceedingly well aimd Wor. And t is no little