The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works

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The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 165

by William Shakespeare


  Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,

  And by his hollow whistling in the leaves

  5

  Foretells a tempest and a blust’ring day.

  KING Then with the losers let it sympathise,

  For nothing can seem foul to those that win.

  [The trumpet sounds.]

  Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.

  How now, my Lord of Worcester! ’tis not well

  That you and I should meet upon such terms

  10

  As now we meet. You have deceiv’d our trust,

  And made us doff our easy robes of peace

  To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:

  This is not well, my lord, this is not well.

  What say you to it? Will you again unknit

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  This churlish knot of all-abhorred war,

  And move in that obedient orb again

  Where you did give a fair and natural light,

  And be no more an exhal’d meteor,

  A prodigy of fear, and a portent

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  Of broached mischief to the unborn times?

  WORCESTER Hear me, my liege:

  For mine own part I could be well content

  To entertain the lag end of my life

  With quiet hours. For I protest

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  I have not sought the day of this dislike.

  KING You have not sought it? How comes it, then?

  FALSTAFF Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

  PRINCE Peace, chewet, peace!

  WORCESTER It pleas’d your Majesty to turn your looks

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  Of favour from myself, and all our house,

  And yet I must remember you, my lord,

  We were the first and dearest of your friends;

  For you my staff of office did I break

  In Richard’s time, and posted day and night

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  To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,

  When yet you were in place and in account

  Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.

  It was myself, my brother, and his son,

  That brought you home, and boldly did outdare

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  The dangers of the time. You swore to us,

  And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,

  That you did nothing purpose ‘gainst the state,

  Nor claim no further than your new-fall’n right,

  The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.

  45

  To this we swore our aid: but in short space

  It rain’d down fortune show’ring on your head,

  And such a flood of greatness fell on you,

  What with our help, what with the absent King,

  What with the injuries of a wanton time,

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  The seeming sufferances that you had borne,

  And the contrarious winds that held the King

  So long in his unlucky Irish wars

  That all in England did repute him dead:

  And from this swarm of fair advantages

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  You took occasion to be quickly woo’d

  To gripe the general sway into your hand,

  Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster,

  And being fed by us, you us’d us so

  As that ungentle gull the cuckoo’s bird

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  Useth the sparrow – did oppress our nest,

  Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk

  That even our love durst not come near your sight

  For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing

  We were enforc’d for safety sake to fly

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  Out of your sight, and raise this present head,

  Whereby we stand opposed by such means

  As you yourself have forg’d against yourself,

  By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,

  And violation of all faith and troth

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  Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

  KING These things indeed you have articulate,

  Proclaim’d at market crosses, read in churches,

  To face the garment of rebellion

  With some fine colour that may please the eye

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  Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,

  Which gape and rub the elbow at the news

  Of hurlyburly innovation;

  And never yet did insurrection want

  Such water-colours to impaint his cause,

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  Nor moody beggars starving for a time

  Of pellmell havoc and confusion.

  PRINCE In both your armies there is many a soul

  Shall pay full dearly for this encounter

  If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,

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  The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world

  In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes,

  This present enterprise set off his head,

  I do not think a braver gentleman,

  More active-valiant or more valiant-young,

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  More daring or more bold, is now alive

  To grace this latter age with noble deeds.

  For my part, I may speak it to my shame,

  I have a truant been to chivalry,

  And so I hear he doth account me too;

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  Yet this before my father’s majesty –

  I am content that he shall take the odds

  Of his great name and estimation,

  And will, to save the blood on either side,

  Try fortune with him in a single fight.

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  KING

  And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,

  Albeit, considerations infinite

  Do make against it: no, good Worcester, no,

  We love our people well, even those we love

  That are misled upon your cousin’s part,

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  And will they take the offer of our grace,

  Both he, and they, and you, yea, every man

  Shall be my friend again, and I’ll be his:

  So tell your cousin, and bring me word

  What he will do. But if he will not yield,

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  Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,

  And they shall do their office. So, be gone;

  We will not now be troubled with reply:

  We offer fair, take it advisedly.

  Exit Worcester, with Vernon.

  PRINCE It will not be accepted, on my life;

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  The Douglas and the Hotspur both together

  Are confident against the world in arms.

  KING Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;

  For on their answer will we set on them,

  And God befriend us as our cause is just!

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  Exeunt all but the Prince and Falstaff.

  FALSTAFF Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and

  bestride me, so; ’Tis a point of friendship.

  PRINCE Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that

  friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.

  FALSTAFF I would ’twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.

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  PRINCE Why, thou owest God a death. Exit.

  FALSTAFF ’Tis not due yet, I would be loath to pay him

  before his day – what need I be so forward with him

  that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter, honour

  pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off

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  when I come on, how then? Can honour set to a leg?

  No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound?

  No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is

  honour? A word. What is in that word honour? What

  is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?

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  He th
at died a-Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth

  he hear it? No. ’Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead.

  But will it not live with the living? No. Why?

  Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it.

  Honour is a mere scutcheon – and so ends my

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  catechism. Exit.

  5.2 Enter WORCESTER and SIR RICHARD VERNON.

  WORCESTER

  O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,

  The liberal and kind offer of the King.

  VERNON ’Twere best he did.

  WORCESTER Then are we all undone.

  It is not possible, it cannot be,

  The King should keep his word in loving us;

  5

  He will suspect us still, and find a time

  To punish this offence in other faults:

  Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes,

  For treason is but trusted like the fox,

  Who, never so tame, so cherish’d and lock’d up,

  10

  Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.

  Look how we can, or sad or merrily,

  Interpretation will misquote our looks,

  And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,

  The better cherish’d still the nearer death.

  15

  My nephew’s trespass may be well forgot,

  It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,

  And an adopted name of privilege –

  A hare-brain’d Hotspur, govern’d by a spleen:

  All his offences live upon my head

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  And on his father’s. We did train him on,

  And, his corruption being ta’en from us,

  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.

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  VERNON Deliver what you will; I’ll say ’tis so.

  Here comes your cousin.

  Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS.

  HOTSPUR My uncle is return’d;

  Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.

  Uncle, what news?

  WORCESTER The King will bid you battle presently.

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  DOUGLAS Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.

  HOTSPUR Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.

  DOUGLAS Marry, and shall, and very willingly. Exit.

  WORCESTER There is no seeming mercy in the King.

  HOTSPUR Did you beg any? God forbid!

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  WORCESTER I told him gently of our grievances,

  Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,

  By now forswearing that he is forsworn:

  He calls us rebels, traitors, and will scourge

  With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

  40

  Re-enter DOUGLAS.

  DOUGLAS Arm, gentlemen, to arms! for I have thrown

  A brave defiance in King Henry’s teeth,

  And Westmoreland that was engag’d did bear it,

  Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

  WORCESTER

  The Prince of Wales stepp’d forth before the King,

  45

  And, nephew, challeng’d you to single fight.

  HOTSPUR O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,

  And that no man might draw short breath today

  But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,

  How show’d his tasking? Seem’d it in contempt?

  50

  VERNON No, by my soul, I never in my life

  Did hear a challenge urg’d more modestly,

  Unless a brother should a brother dare

  To gentle exercise and proof of arms.

  He gave you all the duties of a man,

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  Trimm’d up your praises with a princely tongue,

  Spoke your deservings like a chronicle,

  Making you ever better than his praise

  By still dispraising praise valu’d with you,

  And, which became him like a prince indeed,

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  He made a blushing cital of himself,

  And chid his truant youth with such a grace

  As if he master’d there a double spirit

  Of teaching and of learning instantly.

  There did he pause: but let me tell the world –

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  If he outlive the envy of this day,

  England did never owe so sweet a hope

  So much misconstru’d in his wantonness.

  HOTSPUR Cousin, I think thou art enamoured

  On his follies: never did I hear

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  Of any prince so wild a liberty.

  But be he as he will, yet once ere night

  I will embrace him with a soldier’s arm,

  That he shall shrink under my courtesy.

 

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