| ACT V SCENE I | Henry IV's camp near Shrewsbury. |
| [
Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, Lord John of
LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT,
and FALSTAFF
] |
| KING HENRY IV | How bloodily the sun begins to peer |
| Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale |
| At his distemperature. |
| PRINCE HENRY | The southern wind |
| Doth play the trumpet to his purposes, | 5 |
| And by his hollow whistling in the leaves |
| Foretells a tempest and a blustering day. |
| KING HENRY IV | 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 | 10 |
| That you and I should meet upon such terms |
| As now we meet. You have deceived 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. | 15 |
| What say you to it? will you again unknit |
| This curlish 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 exhaled meteor, | 20 |
| A prodigy of fear and a portent |
| Of broached mischief to the unborn times? |
| EARL OF WORCESTER | Hear me, my liege: |
| For mine own part, I could be well content |
| To entertain the lag-end of my life | 25 |
| With quiet hours; for I do protest, |
| I have not sought the day of this dislike. |
| KING HENRY IV | You have not sought it! how comes it, then? |
| FALSTAFF | Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. |
| PRINCE HENRY | Peace, chewet, peace! | 30 |
| EARL OF WORCESTER | It pleased your majesty to turn your looks |
| 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 | 35 |
| In Richard's time; and posted day and night |
| 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, | 40 |
| That brought you home and boldly did outdare |
| 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, | 45 |
| The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster: |
| To this we swore our aid. But in short space |
| It rain'd down fortune showering on your head; |
| And such a flood of greatness fell on you, |
| What with our help, what with the absent king, | 50 |
| What with the injuries of a wanton time, |
| 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: | 55 |
| And from this swarm of fair advantages |
| You took occasion to be quickly woo'd |
| To gripe the general sway into your hand; |
| Forget your oath to us at Doncaster; |
| And being fed by us you used us so | 60 |
| As that ungentle hull, the cuckoo's bird, |
| 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 | 65 |
| We were enforced, for safety sake, to fly |
| Out of sight and raise this present head; |
| Whereby we stand opposed by such means |
| As you yourself have forged against yourself |
| By unkind usage, dangerous countenance, | 70 |
| And violation of all faith and troth |
| Sworn to us in your younger enterprise. |
| KING HENRY IV | These things indeed you have articulate, |
| Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches, |
| To face the garment of rebellion | 75 |
| With some fine colour that may please the eye |
| Of fickle changelings and poor discontents, |
| Which gape and rub the elbow at the news |
| Of hurlyburly innovation: |
| And never yet did insurrection want | 80 |
| Such water-colours to impaint his cause; |
| Nor moody beggars, starving for a time |
| Of pellmell havoc and confusion. |
| PRINCE HENRY | In both your armies there is many a soul |
| Shall pay full dearly for this encounter, | 85 |
| If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew, |
| 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, | 90 |
| More active-valiant or more valiant-young, |
| 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; | 95 |
| And so I hear he doth account me too; |
| 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, | 100 |
| Try fortune with him in a single fight. |
| KING HENRY IV | 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 | 105 |
| That are misled upon your cousin's part; |
| And, will they take the offer of our grace, |
| Both he and they and you, every man |
| Shall be my friend again and I'll be his: |
| So tell your cousin, and bring me word | 110 |
| What he will do: but if he will not yield, |
| 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. | 115 |
| [Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON] |
| PRINCE HENRY | It will not be accepted, on my life: |
| The Douglas and the Hotspur both together |
| Are confident against the world in arms. |
| KING HENRY IV | Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge; |
| For, on their answer, will we set on them: | 120 |
| And God befriend us, as our cause is just! |
| [Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY and FALSTAFF] |
| FALSTAFF | Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride |
| me, so; 'tis a point of friendship. |
| PRINCE HENRY | Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. |
| Say thy prayers, and farewell. | 125 |
| FALSTAFF | I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well. |
| PRINCE HENRY | Why, thou owest God a death. |
| [Exit PRINCE HENRY] |
| 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 | 130 |
| me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off 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 | 135 |
| is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? |
| he that died o' 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 | 140 |
| I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so |
| ends my catechism. |
| [Exit] |
1 Henry IV Overview (with theme analysis)