pricks me on; but how if honour prick me off, when I come on? how then? Can honour fet to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no: honour hath no skill in furgery then? no. What is honour? a word. What is that word honour? Air; a trim Reckoning.-Who hath it? he that dy'd a Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. Is it infenfible then? yea, to the dead; but will it not live with the living? no; why? Detraction will not fuffer it. Therefore, I'll none of it; honour is a meer fcutcheon, and fo ends my catechifm.

Wor.

-SCENE III.

Changes to Percy's Camp.

[Exit.

Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Vernon.

No, my nephew muft not know, Sir
Richard,

The liberal kind offer of the King.

Ver. 'Twere beft, he did.
Wor. Then we are all undone.

It is not poffible, it cannot be,

The King fhould keep his word in loving us;
He will fufpect us ftill, and find a time

6

To punish this offence in other faults.

Sufpicion, all our lives, fhall be ftuck full of eyes; For treafon is but trufted like a Fox,

Who ne'er fo tame, fo cherish'd, and lock'd up,

5 bonour is a meer fcutcheon,] This is very fine. The reward of brave actions formerly was only fome honourable bearing in the fhields of arms beftow'd upon defervers. But Falstaff having faid that honour often came not till after death, he calls it very wittily a fcutcheon, which is the painted heraldry borne in funeral

P

proceffions. And by meer fcutcheon is infinuated, that, whether alive or dead, honour was but a name. WARBURTON. Sufpicion, all our lives, fhall

6

be fuck full of eyes.] The fame image of fufpicion is exbibited in a Latin tragedy, called Roxana, written about the fame time by Dr. William Alablafer.

4

Will

Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we can, or fad, or merrily,
Interpretation will mifquote our looks;
And we fhall feed like Oxen at a stall,
The better cherish'd, ftill the nearer death.
My nephew's trespass may be well forgot,
It hath th' excufe of youth and heat of blood;
And an adopted name of privilege,

7

A hair-brain'd Hot-fpur, govern'd by a Spleen:
All his Offences live upon my head,

And on his father's; we did train him on;
And his corruption, being ta'en from us,
We as the fpring of all, fhall pay for all.
Therefore, good coufin, let not Harry know,
In any cafe the offer of the King.

Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll fay, 'tis fo.
Here comes your coufin.

SCENE IV.

Enter Hot-fpur and Dowglas.

Hot. My uncle is return'd. -Deliver up my lord of Westmorland. -Uncle, what news?

Wor. The King will bid you battle prefently. Dowg. Defy him by the lord of Weftmorland. Hot. Lord Dowglas, go you then and tell him fo. Dowg. Marry, I fhall; and very willingly.

[Exit Dowglas. Wor. There is no feeming mercy in the King, Hot. Did you beg any? God forbid! Wor. I told him gently of our grievances, Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus, By now forfwearing that he is forfworn.

7 An adopted name of privilege, name of Hot-four will privilege A hair brain'd Hot-fur.] The him from cenfure.

He

He calls us rebels, traitors, and will fcourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

Enter Dowglas.

Dowg. Arm, gentlemen, to arms; for I have thrown

A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,

8

* And Westmorland, that was ingag'd, did bear it; Which cannot chufe but bring him quickly on.

Wor. The Prince of Wales ftept forth before the King, And, Nephew, challeng'd you to fingle fight.

Hot. O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw fhort breath to day,
But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How fhew'd his talking? feem'd it in contempt?
Ver. No, by my foul; I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly,
Unless a brother fhould a brother dare,
To gentle exercife and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man,
Trim'd up your praifes with a princely tongue,
Spoke your defervings like a chronicle,

Making you ever better than his Praife:

9

By ftill difpraifing Praife, valu'd with You. And, which became him like a Prince indeed,

And Weftmorland, that was ingag'd.] Engag'd is, delivered as an boflage. A few lines before, upon the return of Worcefter, he orders Weftmorland to be difmiffed.

9 By All difpraifing Praife, valued with You] This foolish line is indeed in the Folio of 1623, but it is evidently the players' nonfenfe. WARB. This line is not only in the firft folio, but in all the editions before it that I have feen. Why it fhould be cenfured as non

fenfe I know not. To vilify praife, compared or valued with merit fuperiour to praise, is no harth expreffion. There is another objection to be made. Prince Henry, in his challenge of Percy, had indeed commended him, but with no fuch hyperboles as might reprefent him above praife, and there feems to be no reason why Vernon fhould magnify the Prince's candour beyond the truth. Did then Shakespeare forget the foregoing fcene? or are fome lines lolt from the prince's fpeech?

He

'He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chid his truant youth with fuch a grace,
As if he master'd there a double spirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, inftantly.
There did he paufe; but let me tell the world,
If he out-live the envy of this day,
England did never owe fo fweet a hope,
So much mifconftrued in his wantonnefs.
Hot. Coufin, I think, thou art enamoured
Upon his follies; never did I hear
2 Of any Prince, fo wild, at liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night,
I will embrace him with a foldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtefie.

Arm, arm with speed. And fellows, foldiers, friends,
Better confider what you have to do,

Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with perfuafion.

SCENE V.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mell. My lord, here are letters for you.
Hot. I cannot read them now.
O Gentlemen, the time of life is fhort,
To spend that shortnefs bafely were too long,
Tho' life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at th' arrival of an hour.
And if we live, we live to tread on Kings;
If die; brave death, when Princes die with us!
Now, for our confciences, the, arms are fair,
When the intent for bearing them is juft.

2

He made a blufhing cital of

himfelf,] Cital for taxation.
POPE.

Of any Prince, fo wild, at

4

liberty.] Of any prince that played fuch pranks, and was not confined as a madman.

Enter

Enter another Messenger.

Meff. My lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profefs not talking; only this,

Let each man do his best. And here draw I
A fword, whofe temper I intend to stain
With the beft blood that I can meet withal,
In the adventure of this perilous day.
3 Now, Efperanza! Percy! and fet on;
Sound all the lofty Inftruments of war,
And by that mufick let us all embrace,
4 For, heav'n to earth, fome of us never fhall
A fecond time do fuch a courtefie.

[They embrace, then exeunt. The Trumpets found.

The King entereth with his power: Alarm to the Battle.
Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. What is thy name, that thus in battle crof-
feft me?

What honour doft thou feek upon my head?

Dowg. Know then, my name is Douglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Because fome tell me that thou art a King.
Blunt. They tell me true.

Dowg. The lord of Stafford dear to day hath bought
Thy likenefs; for instead of thee, King Harry,
This fword hath ended him; fo fhall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prifoner.

Blunt. I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,

3 Noru, Efperanza!] This 4 For (heav'n to earth)-] was the word of battle on Percy's i. e. one might wager heaven to fide. See Hall's Chronicle, fo- earth. lio 22.

POPE.

WARBURTON.

And