William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

Which of us fears.

DOUGLAS.

Yea, or to-night.

VERNON.

Content.

HOTSPUR.

To-night, say I.

VERNON.

Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,

Being men of such great leading as you are,

That you foresee not what impediments

Drag back our expedition: certain Horse

Of my cousin Vernon’s are not yet come up:

Your uncle Worcester’s Horse came but to-day;

And now their pride and mettle is asleep,

Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,

That not a horse is half the half himself.

HOTSPUR.

So are the horses of the enemy

In general, journey-bated and brought low:

The better part of ours are full of rest.

WORCESTER.

The number of the King exceedeth ours.

For God’s sake, cousin, stay till all come in.

[The Trumpet sounds a parley.]

[Enter Sir Walter Blunt.]

BLUNT.

I come with gracious offers from the King,

If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.

HOTSPUR.

Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God

You were of our determination!

Some of us love you well; and even those some

Envy your great deservings and good name,

Because you are not of our quality,

But stand against us like an enemy.

BLUNT.

And God defend but still I should stand so,

So long as out of limit and true rule

You stand against anointed majesty!

But to my charge: the King hath sent to know

The nature of your griefs; and whereupon

You conjure from the breast of civil peace

Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land

Audacious cruelty. If that the King

Have any way your good deserts forgot,

Which he confesseth to be manifold,

He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed

You shall have your desires with interest,

And pardon absolute for yourself and these

Herein misled by your suggestion.

HOTSPUR.

The King is kind; and well we know the King

Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.

My father and my uncle and myself

Did give him that same royalty he wears;

And—when he was not six-and-twenty strong,

Sick in the world’s regard, wretched and low,

A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home—

My father gave him welcome to the shore:

And—when he heard him swear and vow to God,

He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,

To sue his livery and beg his peace,

With tears of innocence and terms of zeal—

My father, in kind heart and pity moved,

Swore him assistance, and performed it too.

Now, when the lords and barons of the realm

Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,

The more and less came in with cap and knee;

Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,

Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,

Laid gifts before him, proffer’d him their oaths,

Give him their heirs as pages, follow’d him

Even at the heels in golden multitudes.

He presently—as greatness knows itself—

Steps me a little higher than his vow

Made to my father, while his blood was poor,

Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg;

And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform

Some certain edicts and some strait decrees

That lie too heavy on the commonwealth;

Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep

Over his country’s wrongs; and, by this face,

This seeming brow of justice, did he win

The hearts of all that he did angle for:

Proceeded further; cut me off the heads

Of all the favourites, that the absent King

In deputation left behind him here

When he was personal in the Irish war.

BLUNT.

Tut, I came not to hear this.

HOTSPUR.

Then to the point:

In short time after, he deposed the King;

Soon after that, deprived him of his life;

And, in the neck of that, task’d the whole State:

To make that worse, suffer’d his kinsman March

(Who is, if every owner were well placed,

Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales,

There without ransom to lie forfeited;

Disgraced me in my happy victories,

Sought to entrap me by intelligence;

Rated my uncle from the Council-board;

In rage dismiss’d my father from the Court;

Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong;

And, in conclusion, drove us to seek out

This head of safety; and withal to pry

Into his title, the which now we find

Too indirect for long continuance.

BLUNT.

Shall I return this answer to the King?

HOTSPUR.

Not so, Sir Walter: we’ll withdraw awhile.

Go to the King; and let there be impawn’d

Some surety for a safe return again,

And in the morning early shall my uncle

Bring him our purposes: and so, farewell.

BLUNT.

I would you would accept of grace and love.

HOTSPUR.

And may be so we shall.

BLUNT.

Pray God you do.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. York. A Room in the Archbishop’s Palace.

[Enter the Archbishop of York and Sir Michael.]

ARCHBISHOP.

Hie, good Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief

With winged haste to the Lord Marshal;

This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest

To whom they are directed. If you knew

How much they do import, you would make haste.

SIR MICHAEL.

My good lord,

I guess their tenour.

ARCHBISHOP.

Like enough you do.

To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day

Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men

Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,

As I am truly given to understand,

The King, with mighty and quick-raised power,

Meets with Lord Harry: and, I fear, Sir Michael,

What with the sickness of Northumberland,

Whose power was in the first proportion,

And what with Owen Glendower’s absence thence,

Who with them was a rated sinew too,

And comes not in, o’er-rul’d by prophecies,—

I fear the power of Percy is too weak

To wage an instant trial with the King.

SIR MICHAEL.

Why, my good lord, you need not fear;

There’s Douglas and Lord Mortimer.

ARCHBISHOP.

No, Mortimer’s not there.

SIR MICHAEL.

But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,

And there’s my Lord of Worcester; and a head

Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

ARCHBISHOP.

And so there is: but yet the King hath drawn

The special head of all the land together;

The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,

The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt;

And many more corrivals and dear men

Of estimation and command in arms.

SIR MICHAEL.

Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.

ARCHBISHOP.

I hope no less, yet needful ’tis to fear;

And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed:

For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the King

Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,

For he hath heard of our confederacy;

And ’tis but wisdom to make strong against him:

Therefore make haste. I must go write again

To other friends; and so, farewell, Sir Michael.

[Exeunt.]

ACT V

SCENE I. The King’s Camp near Shrewsbury.

[Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt, and Sir John Falstaff.]

KING.

How bloodily the Sun begins to peer

Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale

At his distemperature.

PRINCE.

The southern wind

Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;

And by his hollow whistling in the leaves

Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.

KING.

Then with the losers let it sympathize,

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