Of all the Court and princes of my blood:
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin'd; and the soul of every man
Prophetically does forethink thy fall.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney'd 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 wonder'd 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 dress'd 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 wonder'd 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
With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,
Mingled his royalty, with capering 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,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity;
That, being dally swallow'd 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 render'd such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.
And in that very line, Harry, stand'st thou;
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.
May God pardon you! But I must say I'm astonished, Harry,
at the things you like, which are quite different to those
preferred by all your ancestors.
Through rudeness you lost your place in the Council,
which is filled by your younger brother,
and you are completely alienated from the hearts
of the whole court and your own brothers:
the hopes and expectations we had of you
have vanished, and every man secretly thinks
he can predict your downfall.
If I had appeared so much in public,
been such a workaday person in men's eyes,
the public, who helped me gain the Crown,
would have stayed loyal to Richard,
and left me to live as an unknown exile,
a fellow of no fame or promise.
By only being seen seldom, I couldn't move
without being wondered at like a comet,
so men would tell their children, “This is him!"
Others would say, “Where, which one is Bolingbroke?"
Then I assumed a courtly demeanour from heaven,
and make myself look so humble
that I took loyalty from men's hearts,
loud shouts and praise from their mouths,
even in the presence of the crowned King.
So I kept myself fresh and new,
for me to appear was like an archbishop's robe,
always marvelled at when seen, and so my royalty,
not seen often but always magnificent when it was,
was like a feast, and won respect through being rare.
The frivolous king, he wandered up and down,
with shallow gestures, superficial wits,
quick with a joke but quickly out of jokes, he degraded his dignity,
mixed his royalty with capering fools,
had his great name disgraced with their scorn,
and ruined his authority by laughing at the jokes
of foolish boys, and tolerating the impudence
of every vain young insulter,
he became well known in the common streets,
surrendering himself to popularity,
so that, being seen daily by everybody,
they had too much of him, like honey, they began
to hate the taste of sweetness, of which a little
more than a little is far too much.
So, when he wanted to appear as King,
he was like the cuckoo in June,
heard, but not noted; seen, but with eyes that,
made stale through constant association,
gave him no wondering gaze,
like the ones given to sunlike Majesty
when it only shines rarely an admiring eyes,
instead they were drowsy and close their eyes,
slept in front of him, and behaved towards him
as argumentative men behave to their enemies,
having already had far too much of seeing him.
And that is exactly the way you are, Harry,
you have lost your princely dignity
by joining in with the lowest. Everybody
is sick of seeing you all the time,
apart from me, who wanted to see you more,
and now I'm doing what I don't want to do,
clouding my eyes with the tears of foolish tenderness.
PRINCE.
I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
Be more myself.
From now on, my triply–gracious lord,
I shall remember my position.
KING.
For all the world,
As thou art to this hour, was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg;
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.
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 swathing-clothes,
This infant warrior, in his enterprises
Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
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,
Th' Archbishop's Grace of York, Douglas, and 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.
You are exactly the same
at the moment as Richard was when
I landed at Ravenspurgh from France,
and Percy is like I was then.
Now I swear by my sceptre, and my soul as well,
he has qualities which suit him for a claim to the state,
while you just have the weak one of heredity.
Without any right, or anything resembling a right,
he fills the fields of the kingdom with armed men,
turning his head towards the Royal Army,
and though he is no older than you
he leads ancient lords and distinguished bishops
into bloody battles, and bruising fights.
What immortal honour he gained
against the famous Douglas! Douglas, whose
great deeds, whose hearty invasions and great
reputation as a soldier make him acknowledged by
all other soldiers as the greatest of them
throughout all the kingdoms of Christendom.
Three times this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling clothes,
this child warrior, has in his efforts
unsettled great Douglas, captured him once,
honoured him, and made a friend of him,
to increase the chorus of defiance,
and shake the peace and safety of my throne.
And what you think of this? Percy, Northumberland,
the Archbishop of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
have all signed an agreement against me and are revolting.
But why do I tell you this news?
Why, Harry, do I tell you of my enemies,
when you are my nearest and dearest enemy?
You who are likely enough, through peasant fear,
low inclination, and a fit of ill temper,
to fight against me in Percy's service,
to follow at his heels, and curtsy at his frowns,
to show what a degenerate you are.
PRINCE.
Do not think so; you shall not find it so:
And God forgive them that so much have sway'd
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 favour in a bloody mask,
Which, wash'd 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,
T' engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call hall to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
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 I perform, and do survive,
I do beseech your Majesty, may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:
If not, the end of life cancels all bands;
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
Do not think so, this will not happen;
and God forgive those who have persuaded
your Majesty to think of me like this!
I will redeem myself by fighting Percy,
and at the end of some glorious battle
I shall boldly tell you I am your son,
when my garments will be covered in blood,
and my face covered with a bloody mask,
which, when I wash it away, will wash my shame away with it;
and that will be the day, whenever it comes,
that this renowned and honoured man,
this gallant Hotspur, this widely praised knight,
and your disregarded Harry shall meet.
For every honour that he has won,
I wish each one was multiplied, and that
all my shame could be doubled! For the time will come
when I shall make this young Northerner exchange
his glorious deeds for my shames.
Percy is just my agent, my good lord,
who gathers up glorious deeds on my behalf,
and I will call him to such a strict account
that he will give up every glory he has won,
every ounce of honour in his life,
or I will tear the payment out of his heart.
I promise this now in the name of God,
and if He is good enough to let me succeed,
I beg your Majesty to let that heal
the pain I have caused him through my bad behaviour:
if not, death cancels all debts,
and I will die a hundred thousand deaths
before I break the tiniest part of this promise.
KING.
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.
A hundred thousand rebels die as you speak.
You shall have the command and the trust of your king.
Hello there, good Blunt! You look in a hurry.
BLUNT.
So is the business that I come to speak of.
Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
That Douglas and the English rebels met
Th' eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury:
A mighty and a fearful head they are,
If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer'd foul play in a State.
What I've come to tell you demands hurry.
Lord Mortimer of Scotland has sent word
that Douglas and the English rebels met
on the eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury:
they are as great and as fearful a force,
if everyone keeps their promises,
as has ever tried to overthrow a state.
KING.
The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day;
With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster;
For this advertisement is five days old.
On Wednesday next you, Harry, shall set forward;
On Thursday we ourselves will march:
Our meeting is Bridgenorth:and, Harry, you
Shall march through Glostershire; by which account,
Our business valued, some twelve days hence
Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.
Our hands are full of business:let's away;
Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.
[Exeunt.]
The Earl of Westmorland set out today;
with him went my son, Lord John of Lancaster;
&nbs
p; for this information is five days old.
Next Wednesday you, Harry, shall set out;
on Thursday I will march myself:
we shall rendezvous at Bridgnorth: and, Harry, you
shall march through Gloucestershire; by my reckoning,
for everything we have to do, we shall meet twelve days from now
with our whole army at Bridgnorth.
We have plenty to do: let's get going;
the enemy will gain an advantage if we delay.
[Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.]
FAL.
Bardolph, 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.
Bardolph, haven't I declined terribly since this last exploit? Haven't I
lost weight? Aren’t I shrinking? Why, my skin hangs on me like an
old lady's dressing gown; I am withered like an old apple.
Well, I'll repent, and do it suddenly, while I'm still whole; I
shall be in such poor condition soon that I shall have no strength to repent.
If I can remember what the inside of a church looks like, I
am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a church!
Company, evil company, has been the death of me.
BARD.
Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.
Sir John, you worry so much, you can't live long.
FAL.
Why, there is it:come, sing me a 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; 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.
Why, that's it: come on, sing their songs; make me merry. I was as
good as a gentleman needs to be; good enough; I didn't swear
much; didn't gamble more than seven times a week; paid money that I had borrowed
–three or four times; lived well, within good limits: and now I live
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 73