The Second Part of Henry the Fourth - ebook

Contents

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

INDUCTION

ACT I

SCENE I. The same.

SCENE II. London. A street.

SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace.

ACT II

SCENE I. London. A street.

SCENE II. London. Another street.

SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle.

SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap.

ACT III

SCENE I. Westminster. The palace.

SCENE II. Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallow's house.

ACT IV

SCENE I. Yorkshire. Gaultree Forest.

SCENE II. Another part of the forest.

SCENE III. Another part of the forest.

SCENE IV. Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber.

SCENE V. Another chamber.

ACT V

SCENE I. Gloucestershire. Shallow's house.

SCENE II. Westminster. The palace.

SCENE III. Gloucestershire. Shallow's orchard.

SCENE IV. London. A street.

SCENE V. A public place near Westminster Abbey.DRAMATIS PERSONAE

RUMOUR, the Presenter.

KING HENRY the Fourth.

His sons

HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards King Henry V.

THOMAS, DUKE OF CLARENCE.

PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER.

PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER.

EARL OF WARWICK.

EARL OF WESTMORELAND.

EARL OF SURREY.

GOWER.

HARCOURT.

BLUNT.

Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench.

A Servant of the Chief-Justice.

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.

SCROOP, Archbishop of York.

LORD MOWBRAY.

LORD HASTINGS.

LORD BARDOLPH.

SIR JOHN COLEVILLE.

TRAVERS and MORTON, retainers of Northumberland.

SIR JOHN FALSTAFF.

His Page.

BARDOLPH.

PISTOL.

POINS.

PETO.

SHALLOW and SILENCE, country justices.

DAVY, Servant to Shallow.

MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, and BULLCALF, recruits.

FANG and SNARE, sheriff’s officers.

LADY NORTHUMBERLAND.

LADY PERCY.

MISTRESS QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap.

DOLL TEARSHEET.

Lords and Attendants; Porter, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, etc.

A Dancer, speaker of the epilogue.

SCENE: England.INDUCTION

Warkworth. Before the castle.

RUMOUR.

Open your ears; for which of you will stop

The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?

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 emnity

Under the smile of safety wounds the world:

And who but Rumour, who but only I,

Make fearful musters and prepared defence,

Whiles the big year, swoln 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

Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,

Quenching the flame of bold rebellion

Even with the rebels’ 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.

ACT I

SCENE I. The same

LORD BARDOLPH.

Who keeps the gate here, ho?

Where is the earl?

PORTER.

What shall I say you are?

LORD BARDOLPH.

Tell thou the earl

That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.

PORTER.

His lordship is walk’d forth into the orchard:

Please it your honour, knock but at the gate,

And he himself will answer.

LORD BARDOLPH.

Here comes the earl.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now

Should be the father of some stratagem:

The times are wild; contention, like a horse

Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose

And bears down all before him.

LORD BARDOLPH.

Noble earl,

I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Good, an God will!

LORD BARDOLPH.

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 Blunts

Kill’d by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John,

And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field:

And Harry Monmouth’s brawn, the hulk Sir John,

Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day,

So fought, so follow’d and so fairly won,

Came not till now to dignify the times,

Since Caesar’s fortunes!

NORTHUMBERLAND.

How is this derived?

Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury?

LORD BARDOLPH.

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.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent

On Tuesday last to listen after news.

LORD BARDOLPH.

My lord, I over-rode him on the way;

And he is furnish’d with no certainties

More than he haply may retail from me.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?

TRAVERS.

My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn’d me back

With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed,

Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard

A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,

That stopp’d by me to breathe his bloodied horse.

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.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Ha! Again:

Said he young Harry Percy’s spur was cold?

Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion

Had met ill luck?

LORD BARDOLPH.

My lord, I’ll tell you what;

If my young lord your son have not the day,

Upon mine honour, for a silken point

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

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers

Give then such instances of loss?

LORD BARDOLPH.

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