King Henry IV, Part 1 | Page 3

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This etext was prepared by the PG Shakespeare Team,
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KING HENRY IV, THE FIRST PART
by William Shakespeare
Dramatis Personae
King Henry the Fourth.
Henry, Prince of Wales, son to the King.

Prince John of Lancaster, son to the King.
Earl of Westmoreland.

Sir Walter Blunt.
Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester.
Henry Percy,
Earl of Northumberland.
Henry Percy, his son.
Edmund Mortimer,
Earl of March.
Scroop, Archbishop of York.
Sir Michael, his Friend.

Archibald, Earl of Douglas.
Owen Glendower.
Sir Richard
Vernon.
Sir John Falstaff.
Pointz.
Gadshill.
Peto.
Bardolph.
Lady Percy, Wife to Hotspur.
Lady Mortimer, Daughter to
Glendower.
Mrs. Quickly, Hostess in Eastcheap.
Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers,
Carriers,
Travellers, and Attendants.
SCENE.--England.
ACT I.
SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace.
[Enter the King Henry, Westmoreland, Sir Walter Blunt, and
others.]
KING.
So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for
frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new
broils
To be commenced in strands afar remote.
No more the thirsty
entrance of this soil
Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;

No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her

flowerets with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of
one substance bred,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And
furious close of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming
ranks,
March all one way, and be no more opposed
Against
acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an
ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,

As far as to the sepulchre of Christ--
Whose soldier now, under
whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight--

Forthwith a power of English shall we levy,
To chase these pagans in
those holy fields
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
Which
fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
For our advantage on the
bitter cross.
But this our purpose now is twelvemonth old,
And
bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meet not now.--Then
let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What
yesternight our Council did decree
In forwarding this dear
expedience.
WEST.
My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits
of the charge set down
But yesternight; when, all athwart, there came

A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,
that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight

Against th' irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of
that Welshman taken;
A thousand of his people butchered,
Upon
whose dead corpse' there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shameless
transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be

Without much shame re-told or spoken of.
KING.
It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil
Brake off our
business for the Holy Land.
WEST.

This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord;
For more
uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the North, and thus it did
import:
On Holy-rood day the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry

Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,

At Holmedon met;
Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,
As
by discharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood, the news was
told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their
contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.
KING.
Here is a dear and true-industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt,
new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each soil

Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us