We will not now be troubled with reply; [Exeunt WORCESTER and Vernon. P. Hen. It will not be accepted, on my life: The Douglas and the Hotspur both together Are confident against the world in arms. K. Hen. Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge; For, on their answer, will we set on them: And God befriend us, as our cause is just! [Exeunt King, BLUNT, and Prince JOHN. Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship. P. Hen. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell. Fal. I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all well. [Exit. Fal. 'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how, if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o'Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it:-therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon*, and so ends my catechism. [Exit. 4 Honour is a mere scutcheon,] The reward of brave actions formerly was only some honourable bearing in the shields of arms bestowed upon deservers. But Falstaff having said that honour often came not till after death, he calls it very wittily a scutcheon, which is the painted heraldry borne in funeral processions; and by mere scutcheon is insinuated that whether alive or dead, honour was but a name. SCENE II. The Rebel Camp. Enter WORCester and Vernon. Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, sir Richard, The liberal kind offer of the king. Ver. "Twere best, he did. It is not possible, it cannot be, Then are we all undone. The king should keep his word in loving us; Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd, and lock'd up, A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen: And on his father's; we did train him on: Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so. Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes." MALONE. Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS; and Officers and Soldiers, behind. Hot. My uncle is return'd: - Deliver up Re-enter DOUGLAS. [Exit. Doug. Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown A brave defiance in king Henry's teeth, And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, did bear it; Wor. The prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king, And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight. Hot. O, 'would the quarrel lay upon our heads; And that no man might draw short breath to-day, But I, and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me, How show'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt? Ver. No, by my soul; I never in my life, Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, Unless a brother should a brother dare To gentle exercise and proof of arms. My lord of Westmoreland.] He was "impawned as a surety for the safe return" of Worcester. He gave you all the duties of a man; Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue; There did he pause; But let me tell the world, — England did never owe so sweet a hope, friends, And, fellows, soldiers, Better consider what you have to do, 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, Still ending at the arrival of an hour. 6 He made a blushing cital -] Mr. Pope observes, that by cital is meant taxation; but perhaps rather recital. 7 Of any prince, so wild, at liberty:] Of any prince that played such pranks, and was not confined as a madman. An if we live, we live to tread on kings; If die, brave death, when princes die with us! Enter another Messenger. Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace. Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from For I profess not talking; only this — Let each man do his best: and here draw I 8 my tale, Now, Esperance! - Percy! - and set on. - And by that musick 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 ; Now, Esperance !] This was the word of battle on Percy's side, and has always been the motto of the Percy family. 9 For, heaven to earth,] i. e. one might wager heaven to earth. |