# Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The First Part of King Henry the Fourth/Act 5 Scene 2

Scena Secunda.
Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Vernon.
Wor.
O no, my Nephew must not know, Sir Richard, The liberall kinde offer of the King.
Ver.
'Twere best he did.
Wor.
Then we are all vndone. It is not possible, it cannot be, The King would keepe his word in louing vs, He will suspect vs still, and finde a time To punish this offence in others faults: Supposition, all our liues, shall be stucke full of eyes; For Treason is but trusted like the Foxe, Who ne're so tame, so cherisht, and lock'd vp, Will haue a wilde tricke of his Ancestors: Looke how he can, or sad or merrily, Interpretation will misquote our lookes, And we shall feede like Oxen at a stall, The better cherisht, still the nearer death. My Nephewes Trespasse may be well forgot, It hath the excuse of youth, and heate of blood, And an adopted name of Priuiledge, A haire-brain'd Hotspurre, gouern'd by a Spleene: All his offences liue vpon my head, And on his Fathers. We did traine him on, And his corruption being tane from vs, We as the Spring of all, shall pay for all: Therefore good Cousin, let not Harry know In any case, the offer of the King.
Ver.
Deliuer what you will, Ile say 'tis so. Heere comes your Cosin.
Enter Hotspurre.
Hot.
My Vnkle is return'd, Deliuer vp my Lord of Westmerland. Vnkle, what newe-?
Wor.
The King will bid you battell presently.
Dow.
Defie him by the Lord of Westmerland
Hot.
Lord Dowglas: Go you and tell him so.
Dow.
Marry and shall, and verie willingly. Exit Dowglas.
Wor.
There is no seeming mercy in the King.
Hot.
Did you begge any? God forbid.
Wor.
I told him gently of our greeuances, Of his Oath-breaking: which he mended thus, By now forswearing that he is forsworne, He cals vs Rebels, Traitors, and will scourge With haughty armes, this hatefull name in vs.
Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Arme Gentlemen, to Armes, for I haue thrown A braue defiance in King Henries teeth: And Westmerland that was ingag'd did beare it, Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
Wor.
The Prince of Wales stept forth before the king, And Nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.
Hot.
O, would the quarrell lay vpon our heads, And that no man might draw short breath to day, But I and Harry Monmouth. Tell me, tell mee, How shew'd his Talking? Seem'd it in contempt?
Ver.
No, by my Soule: I neuer in my life Did heare a Challenge vrg'd more modestly, Vnlesse a Brother should a Brother dare To gentle exercise, and proofe of Armes. He gaue you all the Duties of a Man, Trimm'd vp your praises with a Princely tongue, Spoke your deseruings like a Chronicle, Making you euer better then his praise, By still dispraising praise, valew'd with you: And which became him like a Prince indeed, He made a blushing citall of himselfe, And chid his Trewant youth with such a Grace, As if he mastred there a double spirit Of teaching, and of learning instantly: There did he pause. But let me tell the World, If he out-liue the enuie of this day, England did neuer owe so sweet a hope, So much misconstrued in his Wantonnesse.
Hot.
Cousin, I thinke thou art enamored On his Follies: neuer did I heare Of any Prince so wilde at Liberty. But be he as he will, yet once ere night, I will imbrace him with a Souldiers arme, That he shall shrinke vnder my curtesie. Arme, arme with speed. And Fellow's, Soldiers, Friends, Better consider what you haue to do, That I that haue not well the gift of Tongue,
Can lift your blood vp with perswasion.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord, heere are Letters for you.
Hot.
I cannot reade them now. O Gentlemen, the time of life is short; To spend that shortnesse basely, were too long. If life did ride vpon a Dials point, Still ending at the arriuall of an houre, And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings: If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs. Now for our Consciences, the Armes is faire, When the intent for bearing them is iust.
Enter another Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot.
I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale: For I professe not talking: Onely this, Let each man do his best. And heere I draw a Sword, Whose worthy temper I intend to staine With the best blood that I can meete withall, In the aduenture of this perillous day. Now Esperance Percy, and set on: Sound all the lofty Instruments of Warre, And by that Musicke, let vs all imbrace: For heauen to earth, some of vs neuer shall, A second time do such a curtesie.
They embrace, the trumpets sound, the King entereth with his power, alarum vnto the battell. Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.
Blu.
What is thy name, that in battel thus thou crossest me? What honor dost thou seeke vpon my head?
Dow.
Know then my name is Dowglas, And I do haunt thee in the Battell thus, Because some tell me, that thou art a King.
Blunt.
They tell thee true.
Dow.
The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought Thy likenesse: for insted of thee King Harry, This Sword hath ended him, so shall it thee, Vnlesse thou yeeld thee as a Prisoner.
Blu.
I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot, And thou shalt finde a King that will reuenge Lords Staffords death.
Fight, Blunt is slaine, then enters Hotspur.
Hot.
O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot.
Dow.
All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king
Hot.
Where?
Dow.
Heere.
Hot.
This Dowglas? No, I know this face full well: A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnish'd like the King himselfe.
Dow.
Ah foole: go with thy soule whether it goes, A borrowed Title hast thou bought too deere. Why didst thou tell me, that thou wer't a King?
Hot.
The King hath many marching in his Coats.
Dow.
Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates, Ile murder all his Wardrobe peece by peece, Vntill I meet the King.
Hot.
Vp, and away, Our Souldiers stand full fairely for the day. Exeunt.
Alarum, and enter Falstaffe solus.
Fal.
Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot heere: here's no scoring, but vpon the pate. Soft who are you? Sir Walter Blunt, there's Honour for you: here's no vanity, I am as hot as molten Lead, and as heauy too; heauen keepe Lead out of mee, I neede no more weight then mine owne Bowelles. I haue led my rag of Muffins where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my 150. left aliue, and they for the Townes end, to beg during life. But who comes heere?
Enter the Prince.
Pri.
What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword, Many a Nobleman lies starke and stiffe Vnder the hooues of vaunting enemies, Whose deaths are vnreueng'd. Prethy lend me thy sword
Fal.
O Hal, I prethee giue me leaue to breath awhile: Turke Gregory neuer did such deeds in Armes, as I haue done this day. I haue paid Percy, I haue made him sure.
Prin.
He is indeed, and liuing to kill thee: I prethee lend me thy sword.
Falst.
Nay Hal, is Percy bee aliue, thou getst not my Sword; but take my Pistoll if thou wilt.
Prin.
Giue it me: What, is it in the case?
Fal.
I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sacke a City.
The Prince drawes out a Bottle of Sacke.
Prin.
What, is it a time to iest and dally now. Exit.
Throwes it at him.
Fal.
If Percy be aliue, Ile pierce him: if he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his (willingly) let him make a Carbonado of me. I like not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: Giue mee life, which if I can saue, so: if not, honour comes vnlook'd for, and ther's an end. Exit.
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