Warkworth. Before Northumberland's Castle. Enter RUMOUR, painted full of Tongues. Rum. Open your ears; For which of you [speaks?

will stop
The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold

The acts commenced on this ball of earth:
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride;
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace, while covert enmity,
Under the smile of safety, wounds the world:
And who but Rumour, who but only I,

Make fearful musters, and prepar'd defence; Whilst the big year, swol'n with some other grief,

Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures;
And of so easy and so plain a stop,
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before king Harry's victory;
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,

SILENCE, Country Justices.

DAVY, Servant to Shallow.

MOULDY, SA W, WART, FEEBLE, and BULL

CALF, Recruits.

FANG and SNAR Sheriff's Officers.

RUMOUR.-A PORTER..

A DANCER, Speake (the Epilogue.

LADY NORTHUMBERLAND.-LADY PERCY.
Hostess QUICKLY.-DOLL TEAR-SHEET.

Lords and other Attendants; Officers, Soldiers, Messenger, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms,

&c.

SCENE, England.

Hath beaten down young Hotspur, and his Quenching the flame of bold rebellion

troops,

Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I To speak so true at first? my office is

To noise abroad, -that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword;
And that the king before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant
towns

Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,*
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on,

And not a man of them brings other news Than they have learn'd of me; From Rumour's tongues

They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs. [Exit.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-The same. - The PORTER before the Gate; Enter Lord BARDOLPH.

Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho?Where is the earl?

Port. What shall I say you are?

Northumberland castle.

I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
North. Good, an heaven will!

Bard. As good as heart can wish:-
The king is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the
[John,

Blunts

Kill'd by the hand of Douglas: young prince
And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir
Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, [John,
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Came not, till now, to dignify the times,
Since Cæsar's fortunes!

North. How is this deriv'd?

Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence;

A gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely render'd me these news for true. North. Here comes my servant, Travers,

whom I sent

He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand, what news from Shrewsbury.
He told me, that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold;
With that, he gave his able horse the head,
And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.

North. Ha!-Again.
Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, coldspur? that rebellion
Had met ill-luck!

Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what;If my young lord your son have not the day, Upon mine honour, for a silken poinf

I'll give my barony: never talk of it.

He was some hilding* fellow, that had stol'n The horse he rode on; and, upon my life, Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more

news.

Enter MORTON.

North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title leaf,

Fortelis the nature of a tragic volume:
So looks the strond, whereon the imperious
Hath left a witness'd usurpation.t- - 「flood
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask,
To fright our party.

North. How doth my son, and brother?
Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him, half his Troy was

burn'd:

But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it.
This thou would'st say, Your son did thus,
and thus,
[las;
Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Doug-
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds:
But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with-brother, son, and all are dead.
Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother,
But, for my lord your son,-
[yet:
North. Why, he is dead.

See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath?
He, that but fears the thing he would not
know,
[eyes,
Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others'
That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak,
Morton;

Tell thou thy eari, his divination lies;
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace,
And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid:
Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's
dead.

I see a strange confession in thine eye: [sin,
Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or
To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
The tongue offends not, that reports his death:
And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead;
Not he, which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend.

Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son :.

dead.

Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to believe

That, which I would to heaven I had not seen: But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreath'd

To Harry Monmouth: whose swift wrath beat down

The never-daunted Percy to the earth, (up. From whence with life he never more sprung In few, his death (whose spirit lent a fire

by Travers,

Give then such instances of loss?

Bard. Who, he?

event. + Exhausted. Lace

Being bruited|| once, took fire and heat away

From the best temper'd courage in his troops:
For from his metal was his party steel'd;
Which once in him abated, all the rest
Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy
And as the thing that's heavy in itself, [lead.
Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed;
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
Lend to this weight such lightness with their
fear,

That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim,
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
Fly from the field: Then was that noble Wor-

cester

Too soon ta'en prisoner: and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring
sword
[king,
Had three times slain the appearance of the
'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the
shame
[flight,

Of those that turn'd their backs; and, in his
Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
Is, that the king hath won; and hath sent out
A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster,
And Westmoreland: this is the news at full.

North. For this I shall have time enough to

mourn.

In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me
sick,
[well:
Being sick, have in some measure made me
And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd
joints,

Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs,
Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with
grief,

Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nicet crutch;

A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif,‡

Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.

Now bind my brows with iron; and approach The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring,

To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland!
Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not nature's
hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die!
And let this world no longer be a stage,
To feed contention in a lingering act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
And darkness be the burier of the dead!

Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong,
Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from

my lord.

your honour.

Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give To stormy passion, must perforce decay. [o'er You cast the event of war, my noble lord, And summ'd the account of chance, before you said,

Let us make head. It was your presurmise, That in the doles of blows your son might

drop:

You knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge,
More likely to fall in, than to get o'er:
You were advis'd, his flesh was capable

• Let fall. † Trifling. Cap. Distribution.

Of wounds, and scars; and that his forward spirits [rang'd; Would lift him where most trade of danger Yet did you say,-Go forth; and none of this, Though strongly apprehended, could restrain The stiff-borne action: What hath then befallen,

Or what hath this bold enterprize brought forth, More than that being which was like to be?

Bard. We all, that are engaged to this loss,
Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas,
That, if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one:
And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd
Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd;
And, since we are o'erset, venture again.
Come, we will all put forth; body, and goods.
Mor. 'Tis more than time: And, my most
noble lord,

I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,-
The gentle archbishop of York is up,
With well-appointed powers;* he is a man,
Who with a double surety binds his followers.
My lord your son had only but the corps,
But shadows, and the shows of men, to fight:
For that same word, rebellion, did divide
The action of their bodies from their souls;
And they did fight with queasiness, con-
strain'd,

As men drink potions; that their weapons only Seem'd on our side, but, for their spirits and souls,

This word, rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond: But now the bishop
Turns insurrection to religion:
Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind;
And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
Of fair king Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret

stones.

knew for.

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird|| at me: The brain of this foolish-compounded

clay, man, is not able to vent any thing that

to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee, like a sow, that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the

prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, I thou

art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate* till now: but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ mas ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said master Dumbleton about the satin for my short cloak, and slops? Page. He said, Sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his bond and yours; he liked not the security.

Fal. Let him be damned like a glutton! may his tongue be hotter! - A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! -The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is thorought with them in honest taking up, then they must stand upon-security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth, as offer to stop it with security. I looked he should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lantern to light him. - Where's Bardolph?

Page. He's gone into Smithfield, to buy your worship a horse.

Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.‡

Enter the Lord Chief Justice, and an AT

Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? is there not employment? Doth

* A little figure cut in an agate. + In their debt.

not the king lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.

Atten. You mistake me, Sir.

Fal. Why, Sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat if I had said so.

Atten. I pray you, Sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man.

Fal. I give thee leave to tell meso! I lay aside that which grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me: if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged: You hunt-counter, hence! avaunt!

Atten. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

Fal. My good lord!-God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard say, your lordship was sick: I hope, your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most humbly beseech your lordship, to have a reverend care of your health.

Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury.

Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear, his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales.

Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty:-You would not come when I sent for you.

Fal. And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy. Ch. Just. Well, heaven mend him! I pray let me speak with you.

Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.

Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is.

Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from study, and perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of his effects in Galen; it is a kind of deafness.

Ch. Just. I think, you are fallen into the disease; for you hear not what I say to you.

Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal.

Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not, if I do become your physician.

Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord; but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or, indeed, a scruple itself.

Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me.

Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I dia

not come.

Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you

• A catch-pole, or bum-Dailiff,