(1) The FIRST PART of

HENRY

IV.

ACT I.

SCENE,

the Court in London.

Enter King Henry, Lord John of Lancafter, Earl of Weftmorland, and others.

King HENRY.

O fhaken 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 commenc'd in ftronds a-far remote.

(1) The 1ft Part of Henry IV.] The Tranfa&tions, contain'd in this hiftorical Drama, are comprized within the Period of about 10 Months: For the Action commences with the News brought of Hotspur having defeated the Scots under Archibald Earl Douglas at Holmedon, (or Halidown-hill) which Battle was fought on Holyrood-day, (the 14th of September,) 1402: and it closes with the Defeat and Death of Hotspur at Shrewsbury; which Engagement happen'd on Saturday the 21st of July (the Eve of St. Mary Magdalen) in the Year 1403.

No

No more the thirfty entrance of this Soil

Shall damp her lips with her own children's blood:
No more fhall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruife her flowrets with the armed hoofs
Of hoftile paces. Those oppofed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heav'n,
All of one nature, of one fubftance bred,
Did lately meet in the inteftine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,

Shall now, in mutual, well-befeeming, ranks
March all one way; and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-fheathed knife,
No more fhall cut his mafter. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the fepulchre of Chrift,

(Whofe foldier now, under whofe bleffed Cross
We are impreffed, and engag'd to fight)
Forthwith a Power of English fhall we levy;
Whofe arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
To chase these Pagans, in thofe holy fields
Over whofe acres walk'd those bleffed 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 bootlefs 'tis to tell you we will

go.

Therefore, we meet not now: Then let me hear,
Of you my gentle Coufin Weftmorland,
What yefternight our Council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience.

Weft. My Liege, this hafte was hot in queftion,
And many limits of the Charge fet down
But yefternight: when, all athwart, there came
A Poft from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against th' irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken;
A thoufand of his people butchered,

Upon whofe dead corps there was such misuse,
Such beaftly, fhameless transformation,

By thofe Welbwomen done, as may not be,
Without much shame, re-told or spoken of.

K. Henry. It feems then, that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the holy Land.

Weft. This, matcht with other, did, my gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news

Came from the North, and thus it did import.
On holy-rood day, the gallant Hot-Spur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon spent a fad and bloody hour:
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he, that brought it, in the very heat
And pride of their contention, did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Henry. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each foil

Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours:
And he hath brought us fmooth and welcome news.
The Earl of Dowglas is difcomfited;

Ten thousand bold Scots, three and twenty Knights,
Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter fee
On Holmedon's plains. Of prifoners, Hot-fpur took
Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest fon

To beaten Douglas, and the Earls of Athol,
Of Murry, Angus, and Menteith.

And is not this an honourable spoil ?

A gallant prize? ha, coufin, is it not?

Weft. In faith, a conqueft for a Prince to boast of. K. Henry. Yea, there thou mak'ft me fad, and mak'st me fin

In Envy, that my lord Northumberland

Should be the father of fo bleft a fon :

A fon, who is the theam of Honour's tongue :
Amongst a grove, the very ftreightest plant;
Who is fweet Fortune's Minion, and her Pride:
Whilft I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and difhonour ftain the brow

of

Of my young Harry. O could it be prov'd,
That fome night-tripping Fairy had exchang'd,
In cradle-cloaths, our children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet ;

Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts.·

Coufin,

What think you,

Of this young Percy's pride? the prifoners,
Which he in this adventure hath furpriz'd,
To his own use he keeps, and fends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

Weft. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester, Malevolent to you in all aspects;

Which makes him prune himself, and briftle up
The Crest of youth against your Dignity.

K. Henry. But I have fent for him to answer this; And for this cause a while we must neglect

Our holy purpose to Jerufalem.

Coufin, on Wednesday next, our Council we
Will hold at Windfor, fo inform the lords :
But come your felf with speed to us again;
For more is to be faid, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.
Weft. I will, my Liege.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, an Apartment of the Prince's.

Now,

Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff. Fal. WOW, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Henry. Thou art fo fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbuttoning thee after fupper, and fleeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand That truly, which thou would't truly know. What a devil haft thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of fack, and minute capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the figns of leaping-houses, and the bleffed Sun himself a fair hot wench in flame colour'd taffata; I fee no reafon why thou fhould't

hould be fo fuperfluous, to demand the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal. For we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wandring knight fo fair. And, I pray thee, fweet wag, when thou art King-as God fave thy Grace, (Majesty, I fhould fay; for grace thou wilt have none.)

P. Henry. What! none?

Fal. No, by my troth, not fo much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

P. Henry. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundlyFal. Marry, then, fweet wag, when thou art King, (2) let not us that are fquires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's booty. Let us be Diana's forefters, gentlemen of the fhade, minions of the Moon; and let men say, we be men of good government, being governed as the Sea is, by our noble and chaft miftrefs the Moon, under whofe countenance we

fteal.

P. Henry. Thou fay'ft well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us, that are the Moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the Sea; being govern'd as the Sea is, by the Moon. As for proof, now: a purse of gold moft refolutely fnatch'd on Monday night, and moft diffolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with fwearing, lay by; and fpent with crying, bring in: now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder ; and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

(2) Let not Vs, that are Squires of the Night's body, be call'd Thieves of the Day's Beauty.] This conveys no manner of Idea to me. How could They be call'd Thieves of the Day's Beauty? They robb'd by Moon-fhine; they could not steal the fair Day-light. I have ventur'd to fubftitute, Booty: and This I take to be the Meaning. Let us not be call'd Thieves, the Purloiners of that Booty, which, to the Proprietors, was the Purchafe of honeft Labour and Industry by Day.

Fal.