Henry IV, Part 1 (Folio 1 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster,
2635King. How bloodily the Sunne begins to peere
¶Aboue yon busky hill: the day lookes pale
¶At his distemperature.
¶Prin. The Southerne winde
¶Doth play the Trumpet to his purposes,
2640And by his hollow whistling in the Leaues,
¶
The Trumpet sounds.
2645
Enter Worcester.
¶As now we meet. You haue deceiu'd our trust,
¶And made vs doffe our easie Robes of Peace,
2650To crush our old limbes in vngentle Steele:
¶This is not well, my Lord, this is not well.
¶What say you to it? Will you againe vnknit
¶This churlish knot of all-abhorred Warre?
¶And moue in that obedient Orbe againe,
2655Where you did giue a faire and naturall light,
¶And be no more an exhall'd Meteor,
¶A prodigie of Feare, and a Portent
¶Of broached Mischeefe, to the vnborne Times?
¶Wor. Heare me, my Liege:
2660For mine owne part, I could be well content
¶To entertaine the Lagge-end of my life
¶With quiet houres: For I do protest,
2665Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
¶Prin. Peace, Chewet, peace.
¶Of Fauour, from my Selfe, and all our House;
¶And yet I must remember you my Lord,
¶For you, my staffe of Office did I breake
¶In Richards time, and poasted day and night
¶When yet you were in place, and in account
¶It was my Selfe, my Brother, and his Sonne,
¶That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare
¶The danger of the time. You swore to vs,
¶Nor claime no further, then your new-falne right,
¶It rain'd downe Fortune showring on your head,
¶What with our helpe, what with the absent King.
¶What with the iniuries of wanton time,
¶And the contrarious Windes that held the King
2690So long in the vnlucky Irish Warres,
¶That all in England did repute him dead:
¶And from this swarme of faire aduantages,
¶You tooke occasion to be quickly woo'd,
¶To gripe the generall sway into your hand,
2695Forgot your Oath to vs at Doncaster,
¶And being fed by vs, you vs'd vs so,
¶As that vngentle gull the Cuckowes Bird,
¶Grew by our Feeding, to so great a bulke,
¶For feare of swallowing: But with nimble wing
¶By vnkinde vsage, dangerous countenance,
¶And violation of all faith and troth
¶Sworne to vs in yonger enterprize.
¶To face the Garment of Rebellion
¶Of fickle Changelings, and poore Discontents,
¶Which gape, and rub the Elbow at the newes
2715Of hurly burly Innouation:
¶And neuer yet did Insurrection want
¶Such water-colours, to impaint his cause:
¶Nor moody Beggars, staruing for a time
¶Of pell-mell hauocke, and confusion.
¶Shall pay full dearely for this encounter,
¶If once they ioyne in triall. Tell your Nephew,
¶The Prince of Wales doth ioyne with all the world
¶In praise of Henry Percie: By my Hopes,
¶I do not thinke a brauer Gentleman,
¶More actiue, valiant, or more valiant yong,
¶More daring, or more bold, is now aliue,
¶To grace this latter Age with Noble deeds.
¶I haue a Truant beene to Chiualry,
¶And so I heare, he doth account me too:
¶Yet this before my Fathers Maiesty,
¶I am content that he shall take the oddes
2735Of his great name and estimation,
¶Try fortune with him, in a Single Fight.
¶Albeit, considerations infinite
¶We loue our people well; euen those we loue
¶And will they take the offer of our Grace:
¶Both he, and they, and you; yea euery man
2745Shall be my Friend againe, and Ile be his.
¶So tell your Cousin, and bring me word,
¶What he will do. But if he will not yeeld,
¶Rebuke and dread correction waite on vs,
¶And they shall do their Office. So bee gone,
2750We will not now be troubled with reply,
¶We offer faire, take it aduisedly.
¶
Exit Worcester. _
¶Prin. It will not be accepted, on my life,
¶The Dowglas and the Hotspurre both together,
2755Are confident against the world in Armes.
¶King. Hence therefore, euery Leader to his charge,
Exeunt.
¶
Manet Prince and Falstaffe.
¶Say thy prayers, and farewell.
¶Fal. I would it were bed time Hal, and all well.
¶Falst. 'Tis not due yet: I would bee loath to pay him
¶before his day. What neede I bee so forward with him,
¶that call's not on me? Well, 'tis no matter, Honor prickes
¶me on. But how if Honour pricke me off when I come
2770on? How then? Can Honour set too a legge? No: or an
¶arme? No: Or take away the greefe of a wound? No.
¶Honour hath no skill in Surgerie, then? No. What is Ho-
¶nour? A word. What is that word Honour? Ayre: A
¶trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that dy'de a Wednes-
2775day. Doth he feele it? No. Doth hee heare it? No. Is it
¶the liuing? No. Why? Detraction wil not suffer it, ther-
¶fore Ile none of it. Honour is a meere Scutcheon, and so
¶ends my Catechisme.
Exit.
