Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

By still dispraising praise, valued with you,
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chid his truant youth with such a grace
As if he mastered there a double spirit
Of teaching, and of learning, instantly.
There did he pause. But let me tell the world,-
If he outlive the envy of this day,

England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
Hot. Cousin, I think thou art enamouréd
Upon his follies: never did I hear
Of any prince so wild a libertine ;

But be he as he will, yet once ere night

I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesy.—

Arm, arm, with speed!—And, fellows, soldiers, friends,

Better consider what you have to do

Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,

Can lift your blood up with persuasion.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord,

Here are letters for you.

Hot. I cannot read them now.

O gentlemen! the time of life is short;

To spend that shortness basely were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,

Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us.
Now, for our consciences,—the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter another Messenger.

Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.

Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale, For I profess not talking. Only this,—

Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now,-Esperance/-Percy!-and set on!-
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that music let us all embrace;

For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.

[The trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt

SCENE III.-Plain near Shrewsbury.

Excursions and parties fighting. Alarum to the battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and BLUNT, meeting.

Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus

Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?

Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas ;

And I do haunt thee in the battle thus

Because some tell me that thou art a king.
Blunt. They tell thee true.

Doug. The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath

bought

Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, King Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud

Scot;

And thou shalt find a king that will revenge

Lord Stafford's death.

[They fight, and BLUNT is slain.

Enter HOTSPur.

Hot. O Douglas! hadst thou fought at Holmedon

thus,

I never had triumphed upon a Scot.

Doug. All's done, all's won: here breathless lies the king.

Hot. Where?

Doug. Here.

Hot. This, Douglas? no; I know this face full well:

A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnished like the king himself.

Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear:
Why did'st thou tell me that thou wert a king?

Hot. The king hath many marching in his coats. Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;

I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.

Hot.

Up, and away!

Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. [Exeunt

Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF.

Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon the pate.-Soft! who are you? Sir Walter Blunt : -there's honour for you; here's no vanity.-I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep

lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels.—I have led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: there's not three of my hundred and fifty left alive, and they are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Enter Prince HENRY.

P. Hen. What! stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword:

Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff

Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,

Whose deaths are unrevenged: pr'ythee, lend me thy sword.

Fal. O Hal! I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe awhile.-Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.

P. Hen. He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I pr'ythee, lend me thy sword.

Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou gett'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

P. Hen. Give it me. What, is it in the case? Fal. Ay, Hal. 'T is hot, 't is hot: there's that will sack a city.

[The PRINCE draws out a bottle of sack.

« AnteriorContinuar »