Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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3.2 Enter King Henry, Prince Harry, and lords

KING HENRY

Lords, give us leave—the Prince of Wales and I

Must have some private conference—but be near at

hand,

For we shall presently have need of you.

Exeunt Lords

I know not whether God will have it so

For some displeasing service I have done,

That in his secret doom out of my blood

He’ll breed revengement and a scourge for me,

But thou dost in thy passages of life

Make me believe that thou art only marked

For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven

To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,

Could such inordinate and low desires,

Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,

Such barren pleasures, rude society,

As thou art matched withal and grafted to, 15

Accompany the greatness of thy blood,

And hold their level with thy princely heart?

PRINCE HARRY

So please your majesty, I would I could

Quit all offences with as clear excuse

As well as I am doubtless I can purge

Myself of many I am charged withal;

Yet such extenuation let me beg

As, in reproof of many tales devised—

Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear

By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers—

I may, for some things true wherein my youth

Hath faulty wandered and irregular,

Find pardon on my true submission.

KING HENRY

God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,

At thy affections, which do hold a wing

Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.

Thy place in Council thou hast rudely lost—

Which by thy younger brother is supplied—

And art almost an alien to the hearts

Of all the court and princes of my blood.

The hope and expectation of thy time

Is ruined, and the soul of every man

Prophetically do forethink thy fall.

Had I so lavish of my presence been,

So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,

So stale and cheap to vulgar company,

Opinion, that did help me to the crown,

Had still kept loyal to possession,

And left me in reputeless banishment,

A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.

By being seldom seen, I could not stir

But, like a comet, I was wondered at,

That men would tell their children ‘This is he.’

Others would say ‘Where, which is Bolingbroke?’

And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,

And dressed myself in such humility

That I did pluck allegiance from men’s hearts,

Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,

Even in the presence of the crowned King.

Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,

My presence like a robe pontifical—

Ne‘er seen but wondered at—and so my state,

Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast,

And won by rareness such solemnity.

The skipping King, he ambled up and down 60

With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,

Soon kindled and soon burnt, carded his state,

Mingled his royalty with cap’ring fools,

Had his great name profaned with their scorns,

And gave his countenance, against his name,

To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push

Of every beardless vain comparative;

Grew a companion to the common streets,

Enfeoffed himself to popularity,

That, being daily swallowed by men’s eyes,

They surfeited with honey, and began

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little

More than a little is by much too much.

So when he had occasion to be seen,

He was but as the cuckoo is in June,

Heard, not regarded, seen but with such eyes

As, sick and blunted with community,

Afford no extraordinary gaze

Such as is bent on sun-like majesty

When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,

But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,

Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect

As cloudy men use to their adversaries,

Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.

And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; 85

For thou hast lost thy princely privilege

With vile participation. Not an eye

But is a-weary of thy common sight,

Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more,

Which now doth that I would not have it do—

Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

He weeps

PRINCE HARRY

I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,

Be more myself.

KING HENRY For all the world,

As thou art to this hour was Richard then,

When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,

And even as I was then is Percy now.

Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,

He hath more worthy interest to the state

Than thou, the shadow of succession;

For, of no right, nor colour like to right,

He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,

Turns head against the lion’s armed jaws,

And, being no more in debt to years than thou,

Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on

To bloody battles, and to bruising arms. 105

What never-dying honour hath he got

Against renowned Douglas !—whose high deeds,

Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,

Holds from all soldiers chief majority

And military title capital

Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.

Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling-clothes,

This infant warrior, in his enterprises

Discomfited great Douglas; ta‘en him once;

Enlarged him; and made a friend of him 115

To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,

And shake the peace and safety of our throne.

And what say you to this ? Percy, Northumberland,

The Archbishop’s grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,

Capitulate against us, and are up.

But wherefore do I tell these news to thee ?

Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,

Which art my near’st and dearest enemy ?—

Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,

Base inclination, and the start of spleen,

To fight against me under Percy’s pay,

To dog his heels, and curtsy at his frowns,

To show how much thou art degenerate.

PRINCE HARRY

Do not think so; you shall not find it so.

And God forgive them that so much have swayed

Your majesty’s good thoughts away from me.

I will redeem all this on Percy’s head,

And in the closing of some glorious day

Be bold to tell you that I am your son;

When I will wear a garment all of blood,

And stain my favours in a bloody mask,

Which, washed away, shall scour my shame with it.

And that shall be the day, whene’er it lights,

That this same child of honour and renown,

This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,

And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.

For every honour sitting on his helm,

Would they were multitudes, and on my head

My shames redoubled; for the time will come

That I shall make this northern youth exchange

His glorious deeds for my indignities.

Percy is but my factor, good my lord,

To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;

And I will call him to so strict account

That he shall render every glory up, 150

Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,

Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.

This, in the name of God, I promise here,

The which if he be pleased I shall perform,

I do beseech your majesty may salve

The long-grown wounds of my intemperature;

If not, the end of life cancels all bonds,

And I will die a hundred thousand deaths

Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.

KING HENRY

A hundred thousand rebels die in this.

Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.

Enter Sir Walter Blunt

How now, good Blunt ? Thy looks are full of speed.

BLUNT

So hath the business that I come to speak of.

Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word

That Douglas and the English rebels met

The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.

A mighty and a fearful head they are,

If promises be kept on every hand,

As ever offered foul play in a state.

KING HENRY

The Earl of Westmorland set forth today,

With him my son Lord John of Lancaster,

For this advertisement is five days old.

On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward.

On Thursday we ourselves will march.

Our meeting is Bridgnorth, and, Harry, you

Shall march through Gloucestershire, by which

account,

Our business valued, some twelve days hence

Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.

Our hands are full of business; let’s away.

Advantage feeds him fat while men delay. Exeunt

3.3 Enter Sir John Oldcastle

With a truncheon at his waist⌉, and Russell

SIR JOHN Russell, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady’s loose gown. I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, I’ll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer’s horse—the inside of a church! Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me. 10

RUSSELL Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live long.

SIR JOHN Why, there is it. Come, sing me a bawdy song, make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be: virtuous enough; swore little; diced not-above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house not-above once in a quarter—of an hour; paid money that I borrowed—three or four times; lived well, and in good compass. And now I live out of all order, out of all compass.

RUSSELL Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.

SIR JOHN Do thou amend thy face, and I’ll amend my life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop—but ’tis in the nose of thee. Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp.

RUSSELL Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.

SIR JOHN No, I’ll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a death’s head, or a memento mori. I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple—for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be ’By this fire that’s God’s angell’ But thou art altogether given over, and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rannest up Gads Hill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there’s no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern—but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler’s in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire any time this two-and-thirty years, God reward me for it.

RUSSELL ’Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!

SIR JOHN God-a-mercy! ! So should I be sure to be heart-burnt.

Enter Hostess

How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired

yet who picked my pocket?

HOSTESS Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? Do you think I keep thieves in my house ? I have searched, I have enquired; so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant. The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.

SIR JOHN Ye lie, Hostess: Russell was shaved and lost many a hair, and I’ll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. 60

HOSTESS Who, I? No, I defy thee! God’s light, I was never called so in mine own house before.

SIR JOHN Go to, I know you well enough.

HOSTESS No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John; I know you, Sir John. You owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.

SIR JOHN Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them away to bakers’ wives; they have made bolters of them.

HOSTESS Now as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John: for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound.

SIR JOHN (pointing at Russell) He had his part of it. Let him pay.

HOSTESS He? Alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.

SIR JOHN How, poor? Look upon his face. What call you rich? Let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks, I’ll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me ? Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather’s worth forty mark.

HOSTESS O Jesu, (to Russell) I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper.

SIR JOHN How ? The Prince is a jack, a sneak-up. Raising his truncheon⌉ ’Sblood, an he were here I would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so.

Enter Prince Harry and Harvey, marching; and Sir John Oldcastle meets them, playing upon his truncheon like a fife

How now, lad, is the wind in that door, i’faith? Must

we all march?

RUSSELL Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

HOSTESS My lord, I pray you hear me.

PRINCE HARRY

What sayst thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy

husband?

I love him well; he is an honest man.

HOSTESS Good my lord, hear me!!

SIR JOHN Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.

PRINCE HARRY What sayst thou, Jack?

SIR JOHN The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my pocket picked. This house is turned bawdy-house: they pick pockets.

PRINCE HARRY What didst thou lose, Jack? 100

SIR JOHN Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four bonds of forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather’s.

PRINCE HARRY A trifle, some eightpenny matter.

HOSTESS So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say so; and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is, and said he would cudgel you. 108

PRINCE HARRY What? He did not !

HOSTESS There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

SIR JOHN There’s no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune, nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and, for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go!

HOSTESS Say, what thing, what thing?

SIR JOHN What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on.

HOSTESS I am no thing to thank God on. I would thou shouldst know it, I am an honest man’s wife; and setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

SIR JOHN Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

HOSTESS Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

sIR JOHN What beast? Why, an otter.

PRINCE HARRY An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?

SIR JOHN Why? She’s neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.

HOSTESS Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou.

PRINCE HARRY Thou sayst true, Hostess, and he slanders thee most grossly.

HOSTESS So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day you owed him a thousand pound.

PRINCE HARRY (to Sir John) Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

SIR JOHN A thousand pound, Hal? A million! Thy love is worth a million; thou owest me thy love.

HOSTESS Nay, my lord, he called you ’jack’ and said he would cudgel you.

SIR JOHN Did I, Russell?

RUSSELL Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

SIR JOHN Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

PRINCE HARRY I say ’tis copper; darest thou be as good as thy word now?

SIR JOHN Why, Hal, thou knowest as thou art but man I dare, but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion’s whelp.

PRINCE HARRY And why not as the lion?

SIR JOHN The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break.

PRINCE HARRY O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But sirrah, there’s no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou whoreson impudent embossed rascal, if there were anything in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to make thee long-winded-if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it, you will not pocket up wrong. Art thou not ashamed?

SIR JOHN Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Oldcastle do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my pocket.

PRINCE HARRY It appears so by the story.

SIR JOHN Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready breakfast. Love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason; thou seest I am pacified still. Nay, prithee, be gone. Exit Hostess Now, Hal, to the news at court. For the robbery, lad, how is that answered?

PRINCE HARRY O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee. The money is paid back again.

SIR JOHN O, I do not like that paying back; ’tis a double labour. 181

PRINCE HARRY I am good friends with my father, and may do anything.

SIR JOHN Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do it with unwashed hands too.

RUSSELL Do, my lord.

PRINCE HARRY I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

SIR JOHN I would it had been of horse ! Where shall I find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief of the age of two-and-twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels-they offend none but the virtuous. I laud them, I praise them.

PRINCE HARRY Russell.

RUSSELL My lord?

PRINCE HARRY (giving letters)

Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,

To my brother John; this to my lord of Westmorland.

Exit Russell

Go, Harvey, to horse, to horse, for thou and I

Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

Exit Harvey

Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple Hall

At two o’clock in the afternoon.

There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive

Money and order for their furniture.

The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

And either we or they must lower lie. Exit

SIR JOHN

Rare words I Brave world! (Calling) Hostess, my

breakfast, come!—

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! Exit

4.1 Enter Hotspur and the Earls of,Worcester and Douglas

HOTSPUR

Well said, my noble Scot ! If speaking truth

In this fine age were not thought flattery,

Such attribution should the Douglas have

As not a soldier of this season’s stamp

Should go so general current through the world.

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy

The tongues of soothers, but a braver place

In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself.

Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour.

No man so potent breathes upon the ground

But I will beard him.

HOTSPUR Do so, and ’tis well.

Enter a Messenger with letters

What letters hast thou there? I can but thank you.

MESSENGER These letters come from your father.

HOTSPUR

Letters from him? Why comes he not himself? 15

MESSENGER

He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.

HOTSPUR

Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick

In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

Under whose government come they along?

MESSENGER

His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.

Hotspur reads the letter

WORCESTER

I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

MESSENGER

He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

And at the time of my departure thence

He was much feared by his physicians.

WORCESTER

I would the state of time had first been whole

Ere he by sickness had been visited.

His health was never better worth than now.

HOTSPUR

Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

The very life-blood of our enterprise.

’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

He writes me here that inward sickness stays him,

And that his friends by deputation

Could not so soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet

To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

On any soul removed but on his own.

Yet doth he give us bold advertisement

That with our small conjunction we should on,

To see how fortune is disposed to us;

For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

Because the King is certainly possessed 40

Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

WORCESTER

Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.

HOTSPUR

A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.

And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

To set the exact wealth of all our states

All at one cast, to set so rich a main

On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

It were not good, for therein should we read

The very bottom and the sole of hope,

The very list, the very utmost bound,

Of all our fortunes.

DOUGLAS

Faith, and so we should, where now remains

A sweet reversion—we may boldly spend

Upon the hope of what is to come in.

A comfort of retirement lives in this.

HOTSPUR

A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

If that the devil and mischance look big

Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

WORCESTER

But yet I would your father had been here. 60

The quality and hair of our attempt

Brooks no division. It will be thought

By some that know not why he is away

That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence;

And think how such an apprehension

May turn the tide of fearful faction,

And breed a kind of question in our cause.

For, well you know, we of the off’ring side

Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,

And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

This absence of your father’s draws a curtain

That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

Before not dreamt of.

HOTSPUR You strain too far.

I rather of his absence make this use:

It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,

A larger dare to our great enterprise,

Than if the Earl were here; for men must think

If we without his help can make a head 80

To push against a kingdom, with his help

We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.

Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

DOUGLAS

As heart can think, there is not such a word

Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon

HOTSPUR

My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!

VERNON

Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.

The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

HOTSPUR

No harm. What more?

VERNON And further I have learned

The King himself in person is set forth,

Or hitherwards intended speedily,

With strong and mighty preparation.

HOTSPUR

He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

And his comrades that daffed the world aside

And bid it pass?

VERNON All furnished, all in arms,

All plumed like ostriches, that with the wind

⌈ ⌉

Baiting like eagles having lately bathed,

Glittering in golden coats like images,

As full of spirit as the month of May,

And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;

Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

I saw young Harry with his beaver on, 105

His cuishes on his thighs, gallantly armed,

Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,

And vaulted with such ease into his seat

As if an angel dropped down from the clouds

To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, 110

And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

HOTSPUR

No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,

This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come!

They come like sacrifices in their trim,

And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war 115

All hot and bleeding will we offer them.

The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit

Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

And yet not ours! Come, let me taste my horse,

Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.

Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

Meet and ne’er part till one drop down a corpse.

O, that Glyndwr were come!

VERNON There is more news.

I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,

He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

DOUGLAS

That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

WORCESTER

Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

HOTSPUR

What may the King’s whole battle reach unto?

VERNON

To thirty thousand.

HOTSPUR Forty let it be.

My father and Glyndŵr being both away,

The powers of us may serve so great a day.

Come, let us take a muster speedily.

Doomsday is near: die all, die merrily.

DOUGLAS

Talk not of dying; I am out of fear

Of death or death’s hand for this one half year.

Exeunt