attributed solely to the desire of the poet to produce dramatic effect; since, at the time when the conspiracy of the duke of Aumerle was discovered, Prince Henry was but twelve years old; and therefore too young as yet to be a partaker in the debaucheries of London taverns. It is also extremely probable, that the licentious habits, attributed to him by the English chroniclers of the sixteenth century, have been greatly exaggerated.

ARGUMENT.

After the deposition and death of the unfortunate Richard, the attention of Henry is directed to the incursions of the Scots, who, under the conduct of Douglas, advance to the borders of England, where they are totally routed by the celebrated Percy, surnamed Hotspur. The intelligence of this victory no sooner reaches the ears of the king, than, regardless of the debt of gratitude due to the powerful family of the Percies, he demands the prisoners taken in the late struggle, among whom was the renowned Douglas; contrary to the practice of those times, when the custody and destination of captives were determined at the discretion of the conquering general. Exasperated at this unexpected mandate, Hotspur dismisses all his prisoners without ransom, and with his relatives and dependents raises the standard of revolt against the sovereign, whose elevation they had so recently effected. Having formed a treaty of alliance with the Scottish and Welsh leaders, the insurgents arrive at Shrewsbury, where they are encountered by the king in person. A decisive battle ensues, in which Hotspur is slain, and the rebels sustain a signal defeat. The remainder of this drama is occupied with the amusing detail of the frolics of the prince of Wales and his merry companions, among whom sir John Falstaff occupies the most conspicuous part.

6

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

KING HENRY THE FOURTH.
HENRY, prince of Wales,

PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER,
EARL OF WESTMORELAND,
SIR WALTER BLUNT,

sons to the king.

friends to the king.

THOMAS PERCY, earl of Worcester.

HENRY PERCY, earl of Northumberland.
HENRY PERCY, surnamed Hotspur, his son.
EDMUND MORTIMER, earl of March.

SCROOP, archbishop of York.

ARCHIBALD, earl of Douglas.
OWEN GLENDower.

SIR RICHARD VERNON.

SIR JOHN FALSTAFF.

SIR MICHAEL, a friend of the archbishop of York.

POINS.

GADSHILL.

PETO.

BARDOLPH.

LADY PERCY, wife to Hotspur, and sister to Mortimer.

LADY MORTIMER, daughter to Glendower, and wife to Mor

timer.

MRS. QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap.

Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, Two Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants.

SCENE, England.

Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others.

K. Hen. 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 1 To be commenced in stronds 2 afar remote. No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,

Let us indulge in a short interval of peace, that we may recover breath to propose new wars.

? Strands, banks of the sea.

1

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
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
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,
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd,
For our advantage, on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you-we will go;
Therefore we meet not now.

Then let me hear

Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience.1

West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight; when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,-that the noble Mortimer,