Chapter: Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.


Enter the King, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland,
with
others.

  King. So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Finde we a time for frighted Peace to pant,
And breath shortwinded accents of new broils
To be commenc'd in Stronds a-farre remote:
No more the thirsty entrance of this Soile,
Shall daube her lippes with her owne childrens blood:
No more shall trenching Warre channell her fields,
Nor bruise her Flowrets with the Armed hoofes
Of hostile paces. Those opposed eyes,
Which like the Meteors of a troubled Heauen,
All of one Nature, of one Substance bred,
Did lately meete in the intestine shocke,
And furious cloze of ciuill Butchery,
Shall now in mutuall well-beseeming rankes
March all one way, and be no more oppos'd
Against Acquaintance, Kindred, and Allies.
The edge of Warre, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his Master. Therefore Friends,
As farre as to the Sepulcher of Christ,
Whose Souldier now vnder whose blessed Crosse
We are impressed and ingag'd to fight,
Forthwith a power of English shall we leuie,
Whose armes were moulded in their Mothers wombe,
To chace these Pagans in those holy Fields,
Ouer whose Acres walk'd those blessed feete
Which fourteene hundred yeares ago were nail'd
For our aduantage on the bitter Crosse.
But this our purpose is a tweluemonth old,
And bootlesse 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare
Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland,
What yesternight our Councell did decree,
In forwarding this deere expedience

   West. My Liege: This haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the Charge set downe
But yesternight: when all athwart there came
A Post from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes;
Whose worst was, That the Noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wilde Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Vpon whose dead corpes there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shamelesse transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
(Without much shame) re-told or spoken of

   King. It seemes then, that the tidings of this broile,
Brake off our businesse for the Holy land

   West. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord,
Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes
Came from the North, and thus it did report:
On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotspurre there,
Young Harry Percy, and braue Archibald,
That euer-valiant and approoued Scot,
At Holmeden met, where they did spend
A sad and bloody houre:
As by discharge of their Artillerie,
And shape of likely-hood the newes was told:
For he that brought them, in the very heate
And pride of their contention, did take horse,
Vncertaine of the issue any way

   King. Heere is a deere and true industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his Horse,
Strain'd with the variation of each soyle,
Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours:
And he hath brought vs smooth and welcome newes.
The Earle of Dowglas is discomfited,
Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty Knights
Balk'd in their owne blood did Sir Walter see
On Holmedons Plaines. Of Prisoners, Hotspurre tooke
Mordake Earle of Fife, and eldest sonne
To beaten Dowglas, and the Earle of Atholl,
Of Murry, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoyle?
A gallant prize? Ha Cosin, is it not? Infaith it is

   West. A Conquest for a Prince to boast of

   King. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, & mak'st me sin,
In enuy, that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the Father of so blest a Sonne:
A Sonne, who is the Theame of Honors tongue;
Among'st a Groue, the very straightest Plant,
Who is sweet Fortunes Minion, and her Pride:
Whil'st I by looking on the praise of him,
See Ryot and Dishonor staine the brow
Of my yong Harry. O that it could be prou'd,
That some Night-tripping-Faiery, had exchang'd
In Cradle-clothes, our Children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet:
Then would I haue his Harry, and he mine:
But let him from my thoughts. What thinke you Coze
Of this young Percies pride? The Prisoners
Which he in this aduenture hath surpriz'd,
To his owne vse he keepes, and sends me word
I shall haue none but Mordake Earle of Fife

   West. This is his Vnckles teaching. This is Worcester
Maleuolent to you in all Aspects:
Which makes him prune himselfe, and bristle vp
The crest of Youth against your Dignity

   King. But I haue sent for him to answer this:
And for this cause a-while we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Ierusalem.
Cosin, on Wednesday next, our Councell we will hold
At Windsor, and so informe the Lords:
But come your selfe with speed to vs againe,
For more is to be saide, and to be done,
Then out of anger can be vttered

   West. I will my Liege.

Exeunt.

 I . . .See riot and dishonor stain the browOf my young Harry.  In the royal palace of London, King Henry IV of England speaks with his counselors. Worn out by the recent civil wars that have wracked his country, Henry looks forward to a project he has been planning for a long time: joining in the Crusades. He plans to lead a military expedition to Jerusalem, the Holy Land, to join in the battle between the Islamic peoples who currently occupy it and the European armies who are trying to seize it for the sake of Christianity. However, news from two separate borders of Henry's kingdom almost immediately changes his plans: skirmishes have broken out between the English forces on one side and Scottish and Welsh rebels on the other. The king's trusted advisor, the Earl of West-moreland, relays the bad news that Edmund Mortimer, an English military leader, has lost a battle against a band of guerrilla fighters in Wales, who are led by the powerful and mysterious Welsh rebel Owain Glyndwr. Glyndwr has captured Mortimer, and the rebels have slaughtered one thousand of Mortimer's soldiers. Moreover, the Welsh women, following their traditions, have mutilated the -soldiers' corpses. From the other English border, Westmoreland adds, he has just received information that young Harry Percy, nicknamed Hotspur, another of the king's best military men, is currently engaged in heated battle with Archibald, also known as the Douglas, the leader of a large band of Scottish rebels. King Henry has been previously told about this development, it turns out, and already possesses an update about the outcome: young Hotspur has defeated the -Douglas and his army of ten thousand and has taken prisoner several important figures among the Scotsmen, including the Douglas's own son Mordake, Earl of Fife. King Henry is pleased at the news and cannot help comparing Hotspur's achievements with the idleness of his son, Prince Harry: Harry is the same age as Hotspur, but he has not won any military glory. Indeed, Harry's dishonorable behavior makes King Henry ashamed; he wishes that Hotspur were his son instead. Hotspur, however, is behaving very strangely: he has sent word to King Henry that he plans to send only one of his prisoners  to the king and retain the rest. This action flouts standard procedure, as the king has an automatic right to all noble prisoners captured in battle. Westmoreland suggests that Hotspur's rebellious act comes at the prompting of his uncle, the Earl of Worcester, who is known to be hostile to the king. The angered Henry concurs and says that he has sent for Hotspur, demanding that he come and explain himself. Henry decides that the Crusades project will have to be put off and that he will hold court the next Wednesday at Windsor Castle to hear what Hotspur has to say.

