Sivut kuvina

Hot. I cannot read them nov.-
O geatienea! the time of life is shoet;

To spend that shortaess basely, were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's peint,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread oa kings;
Ii die, brave death, when prioees die with us.
Now, for ear coasciences, the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter mother Messenger.
Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.

Hot. I thank him, that he eats me from my tale,
For I profess not talking. Oply this -
Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now, — Esperance! – Percy! - and set on! -
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that music let us all embrace;
For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.
(The Trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt.


Plain near Shrewsbury. Escursions, and Parties fighting. Alarum to the Battle. Then

enter Douglas and BLUNT, meeting.
Blunt. What is thy name, that in battle thus
Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seck
Upon my bead?

Doug. Know, then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Because some tell me that thou art a king.
Blunt. They tell thee true.

Douy. The lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought
Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, kiug Harry,
This sword hath ended him : so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.

[They fignt, and BLUNT is slain.

Hot. O Douglas ! hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.

Doug. All's done, all's won: here breathless lies the king.
Hot. Where?
Doug. Here.

Hot. This, Douglas? no; I know this face full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.

Doug. A fool go with thy soul, wbither it goes!
A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:
Why didst tbou tell me that thou wert a king?

Hot. The king hath many marching in his coats.

Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.

Up, and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.

[Exeunt. Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF. Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here 's no scoring, but upon the pate.

Soft! wbo art thou? Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour for you; here's no vanity.- I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's not three of my hundred and fifty left alive, and they are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Enter Prince HENRY. P. Hen. What! stand'st thou idle here ? lend me thy sword:

Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet unreveng'd. I pr’ythee, lend me thy sword.

Fal. O Hal! I pr’ythee, give me leave to breathe a while. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.

P. Hen. He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I pr’ythee lend me thy sword.

Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

P. Hen. Give it me. What, is it in the case ?

Fal. Ay, Hal; 't is hot, 't is hot: there 's that will sack a city.

[The Prince draws out a bottle of sack. P. Hen. What! is 't a time to jest and dally now?

[Throws it at him, and exit. Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath : give me life; which if I can save, so; if not,

honour comes unlooked for, and there's an end.



Another Part of the Field.
Alarums. Excursions. Enter the King, Prince HENRY,

Prince John, and WESTMORELAND.
K, Hen. I pr’ythee,
Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much. -
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

P. John. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.

P. Hen. I beseech your majesty, make up, Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.

K. Hen. I will do so. — My lord of Westmoreland, Lead him to his tent.

West. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.

P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help: And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should drive

The prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
And rebels' arms triumph in massacres !
P. John. We breathe too long. — Come, cousin Westmore-

Our duty this way lies: for God's sake, come.

[Eixeunt Prince John and WESTMORELAND.
P. Hen. By God thou hast deceiv'd me, Lancaster,
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John,
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

K. Hen. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
P. Hen.

0! this boy Lends mettle to us all.


Alarums. Enter DOUGLAS.
Doug. Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads.
I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
That wear those colours on them: - what art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

K. Hen. The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart,
So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very king. I have two boys
Seek Percy, and thyself, about the field:
But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee; and defend thyself.

Doug. I fear thou art another counterfeit, And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king: But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be, And thus I win thee.

[They fight: the KING being in danger, enter P. HENRY. P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like Never to hold it up again! the spirits Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms: It is the prince of Wales, that threatens thee,

18 Tever primiseh, but he means to Jar.

Izzy igit: Dorelas flies.
Cheerly. bylori: hoy tars you mus!
Su Vicacias Gaysex lach fur succour unt.
Ant so bach Chittua: IIa Citea strugi.

3. Fan. Suy. and breate a viile.
Thoa hast redeem'i or lost joinido:
And sov i thoa maist sume teader of my life,
In this faire rescue thon tast brugght to me.

P. Een O God! they did ne tuo mach injery,
That ever said I hearian 'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alcae
The issalting hand ol Douglis over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the poisonous potions in the vceld,
* And sar'd the treacheroas laboor of year sea.
F. Hen. Make up to Cliftua: I II to Sir Nicholas Gafsey.

(Ezit King HENRY
Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P. Hen. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
Hot. My name is Harry Peres.
P. Hen.

Why, then I see
A very valiant rebel of that name.
I am the prioce of Wales; and think not, Perey,
To share with me in glory any more:
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double reiga,
Of Harry Percy, and the prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
To end the one of us; and would to God,
Tby name in arms were now as great as mine!

P. Hen. I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee;
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.

[They fight.

« EdellinenJatka »