ACT I SCENE I | London. The palace. |
[
Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL
of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others
] |
KING HENRY IV | So shaken as we are, so wan with care, |
| Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, |
| And breathe short-winded accents of new broils |
| To be commenced in strands afar remote. |
| No more the thirsty entrance of this soil | 5 |
| Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; |
| Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, |
| Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs |
| Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, |
| Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, | 10 |
| All of one nature, of one substance bred, |
| Did lately meet in the intestine shock |
| And furious close of civil butchery |
| Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, |
| March all one way and be no more opposed | 15 |
| Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: |
| The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, |
| No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, |
| As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, |
| Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross | 20 |
| We are impressed and engaged to fight, |
| Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; |
| Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb |
| To chase these pagans in those holy fields |
| Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet | 25 |
| Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd |
| For our advantage on the bitter cross. |
| But this our purpose now is twelve month old, |
| And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: |
| Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear | 30 |
| Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, |
| What yesternight our council did decree |
| In forwarding this dear expedience. |
WESTMORELAND | My liege, this haste was hot in question, |
| And many limits of the charge set down | 35 |
| But yesternight: when all athwart there came |
| A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; |
| Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, |
| Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight |
| Against the irregular and wild Glendower, | 40 |
| Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, |
| A thousand of his people butchered; |
| Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, |
| Such beastly shameless transformation, |
| By those Welshwomen done as may not be | 45 |
| Without much shame retold or spoken of. |
KING HENRY IV | It seems then that the tidings of this broil |
| Brake off our business for the Holy Land. |
WESTMORELAND | This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; |
| For more uneven and unwelcome news | 50 |
| Came from the north and thus it did import: |
| On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
|
| Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, |
| That ever-valiant and approved Scot, |
| At Holmedon met, | 55 |
| Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, |
| As by discharge of their artillery, |
| And shape of likelihood, the news was told; |
| For he that brought them, in the very heat |
| And pride of their contention did take horse, | 60 |
| Uncertain of the issue any way. |
KING HENRY IV | Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, |
| Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. |
| Stain'd with the variation of each soil |
| Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; | 65 |
| And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. |
| The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: |
| Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, |
| Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see |
| On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took | 70 |
| Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son |
| To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, |
| Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: |
| And is not this an honourable spoil? |
| A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? | 75 |
WESTMORELAND | In faith, |
| It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. |
KING HENRY IV | Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin |
| In envy that my Lord Northumberland |
| Should be the father to so blest a son, | 80 |
| A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; |
| Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; |
| Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: |
| Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, |
| See riot and dishonour stain the brow | 85 |
| Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved |
| That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged |
| In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, |
| And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! |
| Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. | 90 |
| But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, |
| Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, |
| Which he in this adventure hath surprised, |
| To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, |
| I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. | 95 |
WESTMORELAND | This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, |
| Malevolent to you in all aspects; |
| Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up |
| The crest of youth against your dignity. |
KING HENRY IV | But I have sent for him to answer this; | 100 |
| And for this cause awhile we must neglect |
| Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. |
| Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we |
| Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: |
| But come yourself with speed to us again; | 105 |
| =TOP>For more is to be said and to be done |
| Than out of anger can be uttered. |
WESTMORELAND | I will, my liege. |
[Exeunt] |