| ACT IV SCENE I | The rebel camp near Shrewsbury. |
| [Enter HOTSPUR, 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. | 5 |
| 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. |
| EARL OF DOUGLAS | Thou art the king of honour: | 10 |
| 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. | 15 |
| HOTSPUR | Letters from him! why comes he not himself? |
| Messenger | He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick. |
| HOTSPUR | 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick |
| In such a rustling time? Who leads his power? |
| Under whose government come they along? | 20 |
| Messenger | His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord. |
| EARL OF 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 fear'd by his physicians. | 25 |
| EARL OF 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; | 30 |
| 'Tis catching hither, even to our camp. |
| He writes me here, that inward sickness-- |
| 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 | 35 |
| 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. | 40 |
| Because the king is certainly possess'd |
| Of all our purposes. What say you to it? |
| EARL OF WORCESTER | Your father's sickness is a maim to us. |
| HOTSPUR | A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off: |
| And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want | 45 |
| 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 | 50 |
| The very bottom and the soul of hope, |
| The very list, the very utmost bound |
| Of all our fortunes. |
| EARL OF DOUGLAS | 'Faith, and so we should; |
| Where now remains a sweet reversion: | 55 |
| 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 | 60 |
| Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. |
| EARL OF WORCESTER | But yet I would your father had been here.
|
| The quality and hair of our attempt |
| Brooks no division: it will be thought |
| By some, that know not why he is away, | 65 |
| 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; | 70 |
| For well you know we of the offering 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, | 75 |
| 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, | 80 |
| 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 |
| To push against a kingdom, with his help |
| We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down. | 85 |
| Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole. |
| EARL OF 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. | 90 |
| The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, |
| Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John. |
| HOTSPUR | No harm: what more? |
| VERNON | And further, I have learn'd, |
| The king himself in person is set forth, | 95 |
| 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 daff'd the world aside, | 100 |
| And bid it pass? |
| VERNON | All furnish'd, all in arms; |
| All plumed like estridges that with the wind |
| Baited like eagles having lately bathed; |
| Glittering in golden coats, like images; | 105 |
| 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, |
| His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd | 110 |
| Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, |
| And vaulted with such ease into his seat, |
| As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, |
| To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus |
| And witch the world with noble horsemanship. | 115 |
| 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 |
| All hot and bleeding will we offer them: | 120 |
| 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 | 125 |
| 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 corse. |
| O that Glendower were come! |
| VERNON | There is more news: | 130 |
| I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, |
| He cannot draw his power this fourteen days. |
| EARL OF 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? | 135 |
| VERNON | To thirty thousand. |
| HOTSPUR | Forty let it be: |
| My father and Glendower being both away, |
| The powers of us may serve so great a day |
| Come, let us take a muster speedily: | 140 |
| Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily. |
| EARL OF DOUGLAS | Talk not of dying: I am out of fear |
| Of death or death's hand for this one-half year. |
| [Exeunt] |
1 Henry IV Overview (with theme analysis)