All language subtitles for The.Donmar.Warehouses.All-Female.Shakespeare.Trilogy.s01e02.Henry.IV.[MPup]

Thanks, Elizabeth.

Places, ladies.

How are yous?

My name is Rosie Malone.

I'm 27 and I am a crack and heroin
addict.

I've been in and out of prison since I
was about 14, lying and cheating and

stealing to feed my habit.

Over half the women in prison are
struggling with some sort of addiction.

Now, I'm at the end of a two-year
sentence and I was recently put on the

wrapped detox wing.

I'm six weeks clean and I get out next
week.

And when I get out, I want to stay
clean, get back on track and become the

person that I know I can be.

This play is about change.

It's about reformation.

It's about people with troubled pasts
and uncertain futures who wouldn't want

a second chance.

So shaken as we are, so one 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 armoured hoofs of hostile paces.

Those opposing eyes which lately met 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 alliance.

Therefore, friends, as far as to the
sepulchre of Christ, forthwith

a power of English shall we levy to
chase these pagans from the holy land

over whose acres walk those blessed
feet.

which 1400 years ago were nailed for our
advantage on the

bitter cross.

Oh, now, how?

What time of day is it, lad?

Thou art so fat-witted with drink and of
old sack, and one bump...

after supper, and sleeping upon benches
afternoon, that thou hast forgotten to

demand that truly which thou wouldst
truly know, what a devil hast thou to do

with the time of the day, unless ours
were cups of sack, and minutes

capons, and clocks the tongues of
whores, and the blessed sun himself a

fair hot wench in flame-coloured
taffeta.

I see no reason why thou should be so
superfluous as to demand the time of the

day. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal.

For we that take purses go by the moon
and the seven stars, and not by

Phoebus and our privy.

Sweet wag, when thou art king, let not
us who be squires of the knight's body

be called...

thieves of the day's beauty, let us be
Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the

shade, minions of the moon, and let men
say we be men of good government, being

governed as the sea is, by our noble and
chaste mistress, the moon, under whose

countenance we steal.

Do say as well.

For the fortunes of us that are the
moon's men doth ebb and flow like the

sea, being governed as the sea is by the
moon. As for proof now, a purse of gold,

most resolutely snatched on Monday
night, shall be most dissolutely spent

on Tuesday morning.

Got with swearing, lay boy, and spent
with crying, bring in... By the Lord,

thou say is true, lad.

And is not my hostess of the tavern a
most sweet wench?

Why, what a pox have I to do with my
hostess of the tavern? Well, thou hast

called her to a reckoning many a time,
and of.

Did I ever call for thee to pay thy
part?

No, I'll give thee thy due. Thou hast
paid all there.

Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin
would stretch, where it would not, I

have used my credit.

Yea.

And so used it, that were it not here
apparent, that thou art e'er apparent.

But a privy sweet wag, shall there be
gallows standing in England when thou

art king?

Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a
thief?

No.

Thou shalt.

Shall I?

Oh, rare.

By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

Thou judgest false already.

I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of a
teeth and so become a rare hangman.

Thou art indeed the most rascalliest
sweet young prince and able to corrupt a

saint.

Before I knew thee, how, I knew nothing.

And now am I, if man should speak truly,
little better than one of the wicked.

I must give over this life.

And I will give it over.

By the Lord. And I do not. I am a
villain.

Where shall we take a purse tomorrow,
Jack?

Zunes, where thou wilt, lads?

I'll make one.

And I do not. Call me a villain and
baffle me. I see a good amendment of

life indeed.

From praying to purse taking.

Why, how? Tis my vocation, how?

Tis no sin for a man to labour in his
vocation. Oggy, oggy, oggy. Oi, oi, oi.

Poinsar. This is the most omnipotent
villain that ever cried stand to a true

man. Good morrow, Ned. Good morrow,
sweetheart.

What says Monsieur Remorse?

What says Sir John Sack and Sugar?

Oh, lovely.

My lads, my lads.

Tomorrow morning, by four o'clock early
at Rochester, there are pilgrims going

to Canterbury with rich offerings and
traders riding to London with fat

purses. I have visits for you all. You
have horses for yourselves. I have

bespoke supper tonight in East Cheap. We
may do it as secure as sleep. If you

will go, I will stuff your purses full
of crowns. If you will not... tarry at

home and be hanged. How will thou make
one?

Who, I?

Rob, I a thief, not I by my faith.

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor
good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest

not of the blood royal, if thou darest
not stand for ten shillings.

Oh, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
Why, that's well said.

Come what will, I'll tarry at home. I'll
be a traitor then, when thou art king. I

care not. Sir John, a privy.

Leave the prince and me alone. I will
lay him down, such reasons for this

adventure that he shall go.

Well, God give thee the spirit of
persuasion and him the ears for

profiting, that what thou speakest may
move and what he hears may be believed,

that the true prince may, for
recreation's sake, prove a false

thief.

Farewell. You shall find me in East
Cheap. Farewell, thou latter spring.

Farewell. Now, my good, sweet, honey,
lord, ride with us tomorrow.

I have a jest to execute that I cannot
manage alone.

Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill
shall rob those men, but you and I will

not be there.

And... When they have the booty, if you
and I do not rob them, cut this head off

from my shoulders.

But it's like they will know us by our
habits and by every other appointment to

be ourselves.

Cut! Our visits we will change after we
leave them. And, Sarah, I have cases of

buckram to mask our noted outward
garments.

Yay, but...

I fear they will be too hard for us. And
I will for three of them. I know them to

be as true-bred cowards as ever turned
back. As for the fourth, if he fight

longer than he sees reason, I'll
forswear arms.

Look, the virtue of this jest will be
the incomprehensible lies that this same

fat rogue will tell us when we meet at
supper. How, 30, at least, he fought

with. What wards, what blows, what
extremities he endured.

And in the disproof of this lies the
jest.

Well,

I'll go with thee. Provide all things
necessary and meet me tonight in East

Sheep. There I'll sup farewell.

Farewell, my lord.

I know them all and will a while uphold
the unyoked humour of

their idleness.

Yet herein will I imitate the sun, that
doth permit the base contagious clouds

to smother up his beauty from the world,
that when he please again to be himself,

being wanted, He may be more wondered at
by breaking through the

foul and ugly mists of vapours that did
seem to strangle him. So, when this

loose behaviour I throw off and pay the
debt I never promised, by how

much better than my word I am?

By so much shall I falsify men's hopes
that like bright metal on a sullen

ground, my reformation, glittering o'er
my fault, shall show more goodly

and attract more eyes than that which
hath no foil to set it off. I will so

offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time

when men think least I will.

What a waster. What a fucking waster.
You pissed it all off the wall. Round

the corner where they chased her.
There's tears coming out from

everywhere. The city's hard.

The city's fair. Get back inside.

You've got nothing on that mind. You're
bleeding early. Two bobcums.

When she wakes up in the morning, she
writes down.

My liege, a post from Wales laden with
heavy news.

whose worst is that the noble Mortimer,
leading the men of Herefordshire to

fight against the irregular and wild
Glendower, was by the rude hands of that

Welshman taken, with a thousand of our
people butchered. It seems then that the

tidings of this broil breaks off our
business to Jerusalem.

My lads!

bring you smooth and welcome news.

The gallant hutspur, Harry Percy writes,
the Earl of Douglas is by him

overthrown. Ten thousand bold scots, two
and twenty knights, biting their own

blood on Holmsden plain.

Isn't this an honourable spoiling? A
gallant prize?

Her cousin, is it not? In faith it is. A
conquest for a prince to boast of. Yea,

there thou makes me sad.

Makes me sin in envy that my lord
Northumberland should be the father of

so blessed a son.

A son who is the theme of honour's
tongue.

Amongst a grove, the very straightest
plant, who is sweet fortune's minion and

her pride.

Whilst I, by looking on the praise of
him, see riot and dishonour stain the

brow of my young Harry.

Oh, that it could be proved that some...

Night-tripping fairy had exchanged in
cradle clothes our children where they

lay then would I have his Harry and he
mine but Let him from my thoughts. What

think you cuz of this young hotspurs
pride?

The prisoners which he in this adventure
half surprised for his own use He keeps

and sends us word you shall have none
and we shall send for him to answer this

My blood hath been too cold and
temperate, unapt to stir at these

indignities. But henceforth will I
rather be myself, mighty, and to be

feared. Our house, my sovereign liege,
little deserves the scourge of greatness

to be used on it, and that same
greatness, too, which our own hands have

helped to make so portly. Oh, my lord.
Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see

danger and disobedience in thine eye.

You were about to speak. Yea, my good
lord.

Those prisoners in your highness' name
demanded, which my son Harry in the

battle took, were, as he says, not with
such strength denied as is delivered to

your majesty.

Either envy, therefore, or me speaking,
is guilty of this fault and not my son.

My liege, I did deny you no prisoners.

But I remember when the fight was done,
when I was dry with rage and extreme

toil, that breathless and faint, leaning
upon my sword, came there a certain

lord, neat and trimly dressed, fresh as
a bridegroom, with his chin new reaped,

showed like a stubble land, a harvest
home. He was perfumed like a milliner.

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
he called them untaught knaves,

unmannerly. to bring a slovenly,
unhandsome corpse betwixt the wind and

his nobility.

And with many holiday and lady terms, he
questioned me.

Amongst the rest, demanded my prisoners
in your majesty's behalf.

And I then, all smarting with my wounds
being cold, to be so pestered with a

popping jay.

Out of my grief and my impatience,
answered neglectingly, I know not what,

he should or he should not, for he made
me mad to see him shine so brisk and

smell so sweet and talk so like a
waiting gentlewoman of guns and drums

and wounds, God save the mark.

This bald, unjointed chat of his, my
lord, I answered impolitely,

as I said.

And I beseech you, let not his report
come current for an accusation betwixt

my love and your high majesty.

And yet you do withhold your prisoners.

With proviso and exception that we, at
our own cost, should ransom straight

your brother-in-law, the foolish
Mortimer, who on my soul hath willfully

betrayed the lives of those that he did
lead to fight. Shall our coffers then be

emptied to redeem a traitor, home? No.

On the barren mountains, let him starve.

For I shall never hold that man, my
friend, whose tongue shall ask me for

one penny cost to ransom home rebellious
Mortimer. Rebellious Mortimer? He never

did fall off, must have released, but by
the chance of war... Sirrah, henceforth

let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.

Send me your prisoners with your
speediest means, or you shall hear in

such a kind from me as will displease
you.

My Lord Northumberland, we license your
departure with your son.

Send us your prisoners, or you will hear
of it.

And if the devil come and war for them,
I will not.

Send him. Brother,

the king has made your nephew mad. He
will forsooth have all my prisoners. And

when I urged the ransom once again, then
on my face he turned an eye of death,

trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
I cannot blame him.

Was not Mortimer proclaimed by Richard
that dead is heir to the crown?

He was.

I heard the proclamation.

And then it was when that unhappy
king... For whose death we

in the world's wide mouth live
scandalized and foully spoken of? But

soft, I pray you, did King Richard then
proclaim my brother, Edmund Mortimer,

heir to the crown?

He did.

Myself did him.

Nay then, I cannot blame this subtle
king that wished him on the barren

mountain starve.

But shall it be that you that set the
crown upon the head of this forgetful

man, and for his sake wear the detested
blot of murderous subornation? Shall it

be that you a world of curses undergo?

Shall it for shame be spoken in these
days, or fill up chronicles in time to

come, that men of your nobility and
power did pledge them both in an unjust

behalf, as both of you, God pardon it,
have done, to put down Richard?

that sweet lovely rose, and plant this
thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke. No,

yet time serves wherein you may redeem
your banished honours and restore

yourselves into the good thoughts of the
world again.

Revenge. the jeering and disdained
contempt of this proud king, who studies

day and night to answer all the debt he
owes to you, even with the bloody

payment of your debts. Therefore, I
say... Please, cousin, say no more.

And now I will unclasp a secret book.

And to your quick-conceiving
discontents, I'll read you matter deep.

and dangerous.

Why, heaven me thinks it were an easy
leap to pluck bright honour from the

pale-faced moon, or dive into the bottom
of the deep, where fathom-line could

never touch the ground, and pluck up
drowned honour by the locks, so he that

doth redeem her thence might wear,
without co-rival, all her dignities.

But out upon this half-faced fellowship.

Peace, cousin.

Let me audience for a while. I cry you
mercy.

Those same noble Scots that are your
prisoners. I'll keep them all. By God,

he shall not have a scot of them. You
lend no ear unto my purposes.

Those prisoners you shall keep. Nay, I
will. That's flat. He said he would not

ransom Mortimer. Forbade my tongue to
speak of Mortimer. But I will find him

when he lies asleep and in his ear a
holler.

Mortimer.

Nay, nay.

All have a starling shall be taught to
speak nothing but.

To keep his anger still in motion.

Qué insensato, impaciente e irritable
que nos vienes con humores de mujer sin

pegar tu oído a más lengua que la tuya.

Good uncle, tell your tale.

I have done.

Then once more to your Scottish
prisoners.

Return them straight without a ransom
ask. Then...

Make the Earl of Douglas your only means
for power in Scotland, which for diverse

reasons will easily be granted.

You, my lord, your son in Scotland,
being thus employed, shall secretly into

the bosom creep of that same noble,
well-beloved Archbishop. Of you, is it

not? I speak not what I think might be,
but what I know is ruminated, plotted,

and set down. In faith, it is
exceedingly well aimed.

We save our heads.

By raising of our head. But bear
ourselves as even as we can. The king

will always think him in our debt and
think that we think ourselves

unsatisfied. Till he has found a time to
pay us home. And see already how he doth

begin to make us strangers to his looks
of love. He does, he does. We'll be

revenged on him.

Nephew, farewell.

No further going this than I by letter
shall direct your course when time is

ripe. Which will be suddenly.

Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive.

I trust.

Uncle, adieu.

Let the hours be short till fields and
blows and groans ablood our sport.

Things do move like sound.

Waves do move like round.

It don't go up and down. It spreads
circle round.

Running like a clown. Look at what I
found.

Where they threw me down.

Where they threw me down.

On the ten.

Come, shelter, shelter. I have removed
Falstaff's horse and he frets like a

sick.

I am a curse to rob in that thief's
company.

The rascal hath removed me horse, and
tied him I know not where.

If I travel but four foot further afoot,
I shall break my wind.

I have forsworn his company hourly this
two years, yet I have...

The rascal prince hasn't given me
medicines to make me love him or be

hanged.

Poinser! Help!

A plague upon it, when thieves cannot be
true one to another.

Peace, ye fat guts!

Lie down, lay thine ear close to the
ground, and list if thou canst hear the

tread of travellers.

Have you any levers to lift me up again,
being down?

A privy, good Prince Hal, help me to my
horse.

Good king's son.

How do you roll?

Shall I be your skivvy? Oh, go hang
thyself in thine own heir apparent

garters. If I be taken, I'll peach for
this, and I'll have ballads made on you

all, and sung to filthy tunes.

No! So I do against my will.

What news?

Kiss ye, kiss ye. I'm with your vizards.

There's many of the kings coming down
the hill. Tis going to the king's

exchequer. You lie, you rogue. Tis going
to the king's tavern.

There's enough to make us all to be
hanged. Sirs, you four shall front them

in the narrow lane.

Ned Pines and I will walk lower. If they
escape from your encounter, then they

light on us.

How many be there of them? Some eight or
ten.

Soons, will they not rob us?

What? A coward?

Sir John Pont.

Indeed, I am no coward, Hal.

Well, we'll leave that to the proof.
Farewell, and stand fast.

Now, my masters, happy man be his dole,
say I.

Every man to his business.

Well, contented to be there in respect
of the love you bear our house.

But you could be contented. Well, why
are you not then in respect of the love

you bear our house?

He shows in this. He loves his own barn
better than he loves our house.

Let me hear some more.

The purpose we undertake is dangerous.
Why, that's certain. It is dangerous to

take a cold, to sleep, to drink. But I
tell you, my lord, fool, out of this

nettle, danger, we pluck this flower.

Safety.

The purpose we undertake is dangerous.

But the friends we have named uncertain,
the time itself unsorted, and our whole

plot too light for the canterboys of so
great an opposition.

Say you so, say you so.

I'll say unto you again, you are a
shallow, cowardly hind, and you lie.

By the Lord, our plot is a good plot, as
ever was laid.

Our friends, true and constant, is there
not my father, my uncle, and myself?

Lord Edmund Mortimer, Archbishop of York
and Owen Glendower, is there not besides

the Douglas?

And have I not all their letters to meet
me in arms by the night for the next

month? And are not some of them set
forward already?

What a pagan rascal is this, an infidel?

Oh, you shall see now, in very sincerity
of fear and

cold heart, he will to the king to lay
open all our proceedings.

Hang him, let him tell the king. We are
prepared.

I will set forward tonight.

Now, Kate, I must leave you within these
two hours.

Oh, good my lord, why are you thus
alone?

For what offence have I this fortnight
been a banished woman from my Harry's

bed?

Tell me.

Sweet lord, what is't that takes from
thee thy stomach pleasure and thy

golden sleep?

Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the
earth and start so often when thou

sit'st alone?

Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in
thy cheeks and given my

treasures and my rights of thee to...

thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy.

In thy faint slumbers I by thee have
watched and heard thee

murmur tales of iron wars, speak terms
of mannage to thy bounding

steed, cry, Courage, to the field!

And thou hast talked of sallies and
retires, of trenches, tents of

palisados, frontiers, parapets of
prisoners ransomed and of soldiers slain

and all the currents of a heady fight.

Thy spirit within thee hath been so at
war and thus hath so bestirred thee in

thy sleep that beads of sweat have stood
upon thy brow like

bubbles in a late disturbed stream, and
in thy face strange motions have

appeared, such as we see when men
restrain their breath on some great

sudden hest. O, what portents are these?

Some heavy business hath my lord in
hand, and I must know it, else he loves

me not.

Hath Gilliam's with the packet gone? He
is, my lord, an hour ago. Hath Butler

bought those horses from the sheriff?
One horse, my lord, he bought even now.

What horse?

A roan. A crop ear, is it not? It is, my
lord. That roan shall be my throne.

Well, I will back him straight.

Oh, Esperance!

Bid Butler bring him forth into the
park.

But hear you, my lord. What sayest thou,
my lady? What is it carries you away?

Why, my horse, my love, my horse. Out!

You mad-headed ape!

A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
as you are tossed with. In faith, I'll

know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear my brother Mortimer hath sent for

you to line his enterprise.

But if you go— So far afoot, I shall be
weary, love. Come, come, you— Parakeeto,

answer me directly unto this question
that I ask in faith. I'll break thy

little finger, Harry, and if thou wilt
not tell me all things true. Away, away,

you trifler!

Love, I love thee not, I care not for
thee, Kate.

This is no world to play with mammoths
and to tilt with lips. We must have

bloody noses and cracked crowns. God's
me, my horse!

What say'st thou, Kate?

What wouldst thou have with me?

Do you not love me?

Do you not indeed?

Well, do not then, for since you love me
not, I will not love myself.

Do you not love me?

Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.

Wilt thou see me ride?

And when I am on horseback, I will swear
I love thee

infinitely.

But hark you, Kate, I must not have you
henceforth question me,

whither I go, or reason whereabout.

Whither I must, I must.

And to conclude, this evening must I
leave you, gentle Kate.

I know you wise, but yet no father wiser
than Harry Hotspur's wife.

A constant you are, but yet a woman, and
for secrecy no lady closer, for I well

believe thou wilt not utter what thou
dost not know.

And so far will I trust thee, gentle
Kate. How so far?

Not an inch further.

But hark ye, Kate, whither I go, thither
shall you go too.

For today will I set forth, tomorrow
you.

Will this content you, Kate?

It must of force.

Plague of all cowards, I say.

And a vengeance too.

Marry and amen. Give me a cup of sack,
woman.

Is there no virtue extant?

If manhood, good manhood, be not extinct
upon the face of this earth, then am I a

shot and herring?

There live not four good men unhanged in
England, and one of them is fat.

And grows old.

Plague of all cowards, I say still.

Hell no, old sack.

What mutter are you? A king's son.

A king's son?

You, Prince of Wales?

Why your horse on round, man?

What's the matter? Are not you a coward?

Answer me to that. And poins thou. Not
soons, you fat poins.

And ye call me coward? By the Lord, I
will stab thee. I call thee coward.

I see thee damned, ere I call thee
coward, but I would give a thousand

pound I could run as fast as thou canst.

Call you that back into your friends.

Give me them that can face me.

Plague of all cowards still I say.

What's the matter?

What's the matter?

There be four of us here have taken a
thousand pound this day morning.

Where is it, Jack? Where is it? Where is
it?

Taken from us it is.

A hundred upon poor four of us. What? A
hundred, man?

I have scaped by miracle.

I'm eight times thrust through the
doublet. Four through the O's.

Me buckler cut through and through. Me
sword act like an handsaw.

A.K. Signum.

I never dealt better since I was a man.

All would not do.

A plague of old cowards.

Let them speak.

If they speak more or less than truth,
they are villains.

And the sons of darkness.

Speak, sirs. How was us?

We all sat upon some dozen.

Sixteen at least, my lord.

Bound them. No, no, they were not bound.
You rogue.

They were bound.

Every man of them.

Or I am a Jew else. A Hebrew Jew.

As we sat sharing, some six or seven
freshmen sat upon us. And I'm bound the

rest and then come in the other. What?
What you?

With them all?

All.

I know not what you call all.

But if I fault not with fifty of them, I
am a bunch of radish.

Pray God, you've not murdered some of
them.

No, that's past praying for.

I have peppered two of them.

Two, I'm sure I've paid. Two rogues in
Buckram suits.

I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a
lie, spit in me face.

Call me horse.

Thou knowest my old ward. Here I lay,
and thus I bore my point.

Four rogues in Buckram let drive at me.
What, four?

Thou says what, two even now?

Four, Hal, I told thee four.

Aye, aye, he said four.

These four in Buckram.

Came all afront and mainly thrust at me.
I made me no more ado, but took each of

their seven points in my target, that.
What, seven? Well, there were four even

then. Aye, in Buckram suits.

There's nine in Buckram that I told thee
of. So two more already.

Began to give me ground, but I followed
me close.

Came in foot and hand, and with a
thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

Oh, monstrous. Eleven.

Even Buckram men grown out of two.
Perhaps the devil would have it. Three

misbegotten knaves in Kendall Green come
at me back and let drive at me.

For it was so dark how thou couldst not
see thy hand.

Oi, how could thou know these men in
Kendall Green when it was so dark thou

couldst not see thy hand?

Oh, come, tell us your reason, Jack.

What sayest thou to this? Come, your
reason, Jack. Your reason. What?

Upon compa...

Zunes and I were on all the racks in the
world. I would not tell you on

compulsion. Give you a reason on
compulsion.

I'll be no longer guilty of this sin.
This sanguine coward.

This bed presser. This horseback
breaker.

This huge hill of flesh. Bad!

You starveling. You eel skin.

You dried neat skin. tongue, you bull's
pizzle, you stockfisher,

for breath to utter what is like thee,
you tailor's yard, you sheath, you

bowcase, you vile standing tuck.

Do I breathe a while? Yeah.

And then to it again.

And when thou hast tired thyself with
base Comparisons? Hear me speak about

this. Mark, Jack. We, too, saw you four
set on two and were

masters of their wealth. Then did we,
too, set on you four and with a word.

Oh, shit off.

Outface you from your price and have it.
Yay.

and can show it you here in the house
and false have you carried your guts

away as nimbly with as quick dexterity
and roared for mercy and still run and

roared as ever I heard a bull calf.

Mammy! Now, what trick, huh? What
device, what bolt hole canst thou now

find out to hide thee from this open and
apparent shame? Come, let's hear Jack.

What trick hast thou now?

me to kill the heir apparent.

Should I turn upon the true prince?

Thou knowest I am as valiant as
Hercules, who's a good boy.

But beware instinct.

The lion shall not touch the true
prince. Instinct is a great matter.

I was now a coward on instinct.

But by the long legs, I am glad you have
the money.

That's what I want. I want money.

That's what I want.

Your love gives me such a thrill.

But your loving won't pay my bills. I
want money.

That's what I want.

My lord, there is a nobleman of the cult
at Dorwood. Speak with you.

He says he comes from your father.

I'll give him as much as I make him a
royal man and send him back again to me

mother.

Oi, oi, oi, oi. Oi, what manner of man
is he?

An old man.

What duffs of gravity out of his bed at
midnight?

Shall I give him an answer?

Pretty do, Jack. Faith, and I'll send
him packing.

Now, sirs, by our lady, you fought fair.
So did you, Pito. So did you, Bardolph.

You are lions too.

You ran away upon instinct.

Now, don't touch the true prince. No,
boy.

Faith, I ran when I saw others run.

Faith.

Now, tell me now in earnest.

How came Falstaff's sword so hacked?
Why, he hacked it with his dagger and

said he would swear truth out of England
but that he would make you believe it

was done in fight. In fight.

And got us to tickle their noses with
spear grass to make them bleed and then

to swear it was the blood of true men.

My sweet creature of Bombas. There's
villainous news of rebellion abroad.

Thy must to thy father's court in the
morning. That same mad fellow of the

north, Oxford, and he of Wales, that
swore the devil is true liegement upon

the cross of a Welsh hook.

What a play call you in?

Owen Glendower.

Well, he is there. And a thousand Scots
too.

Worcester is stolen away tonight. Thy
father's beard turns white with the

news. You can buy land now as cheap as
stinking mackerel.

But tell me how?

Art thou not horrible of fear?

Thou being heir apparent, doth thy blood
not tremble at it?

Not a whit, if faith.

I lack some of thy instinct.

Well, thou will be horrible, chid,
tomorrow, when thou comest to thy

father. If thou love me, practice an
answer.

Do thou stand for my father and examine
me on the particulars of my life?

Shall I?

Content, this chair shall be my state,
this dagger my sceptre, and

this cushion my crown.

If the fire of grace be not quite out of
thee, now shall thou be moved.

Well, here is my leg.

And here is my speech.

Stand aside, nobility.

rendest thy time, but also how thou art

accompanied that thou art my son, partly
I have thy mother's word, partly

mine own opinion, but chiefly a
villainous trick of thine eye and a

foolish hanging of thy nether lip that
doth warrant me. Oh, Jesus, this is

excellent sport of fight. Weep not.

Queen, for trickling tears are vain.

If then thou be son to me. Oh, here lies
the point.

Why being son to me art thou so pointed
at?

Shall the son of England prove a thief
and take passes? A question to be asked.

Oh, the father. How he holds his...

countenance. For God's sake, lords,
convey my tristful queen, for tears do

stop the floodgates of her eyes.

Oh, Jesus, he doth it like one of these
theatrical players as ever I see.

Peace, good pinepot. Peace, good tickle
brain.

Harry,

there is a virtuous man whom I've often,
often Orphan.

Orphan. Noted in thy company, but I know
not his name.

What manner of man an it like, your
majesty?

Oh, a goodly portly man, if they.

And a corpulent of a cheerful look, a
pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage.

And now I remember me. His name is...
Fulton.

That man be lewdly given, he deceiveth
me, for...

you in his looks, him keep with, the
rest banish.

And tell me now, thou naughty varlet,
tell me,

where hast thou been this month?

Does thou speak like a king?

Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my
father?

Depose me!

grievous.

Blood, my lord, they are false. Now I'll
tickle thee for a young prince of ours.

Swearest thou, ungracious boy, thou art

violently carried away from grace.

There is a devil haunts thee, and the
likeness of an old fat man.

A ton of man is thy companion.

Why dost thou converse with that trunk
of humours, that swollen parcel of

dropsies, that stuffed cloak bag of
guts? Yeah, all right, all right.

That reverent vice, that grey iniquity,
that father ruffian, that vanity

in years.

I mean, wherein is he good but to taste
sack?

and cleanly, but to carve a cape on and
eat it. Wherein cunning, but in craft.

Wherein crafty, but in villainy. Wherein
villainous, but in all things.

And wherein worthy, but in nothing.

I would your grace would take me with
you.

Who means your grace?

I mean that villainous, abominable,
misleader of youth.

That Satan!

Falstaff!

My lord, the man I know.

I know thou dost. That he is, savin'
your reverence, a whoremaster, that I

utterly deny.

If sack and sugar be a fault, then God
help the wicked.

If to be old and merry be a sin, then
many an old man I know is damned.

If to be fat be to be hated.

Then no, good my lord, banish pito.

Banish bardo.

Banish poise.

But good Jack Falstaff, kind Jack
Falstaff, true Jack

Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and
therefore more valiant, being as he is

old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy
Harry's company.

Banish plump Jack.

and banish all the world.

I do.

I will.

Oh, my lord, my lord, the sheriff with a
most monstrous watch is at the door.

Out, you rogue.

Play out the play.

Oh, Jesus.

They are come to search the house.

Shall I let them in? Go.

I.D. behind the arras. The rest, walk up
above.

Now, my matters for a true face and a
good conscience. Yes, both of which I

have had, but their date is out and
therefore I'll hide me.

Take the notice.

Call in the sheriff.

Master Sheriff, what is your will with
me?

First, pardon me, my lord.

A hue and cry have followed certain men
unto this house.

What men?

One of them, my gracious lord, is well
known.

fat as butter oh the man I do assure you
is not here for I myself at this

time have employed him and sheriff I
will engage my word to thee that I will

by tomorrow dinner time send him to
answer thee or any man for anything he

shall be charged with all and so let me
entreat you leave

the house I will my lord

There were persons in this robbery have
lost 300 pounds.

It may be so.

If he have robbed these men, he shall be
answerable.

And so farewell.

Good night, my gracious lad.

Relax, he's a friend, he's a friend,
he's a friend.

Go, call him forth.

Full stop.

Fast asleep and snorting like a horse.

Hark how hard he fetches breath,
searches pockets, and there let him

sleep till day.

We must all to the wars, and thy place
shall be honourable.

The money shall be paid back again with
advantage, and be with me betimes in the

morning. And so...

Good morrow, Ned.

Good morrow, good my lord.

Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower. Will
you sit down? And Uncle Worcester.

A plague upon it. I have forgot the map.

No.

Here it is.

No way. No way. No way.

Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin
Hotspur, for by that name, whene'er the

English king doth speak of you, his
cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh

he wisheth you in heaven.

And you in hell, as oft as he has Owen
Glendower spoke of. I cannot blame him.

At my nativity, the front of heaven was
full of fiery shapes, of burning

cressets. And at my birth, the frame and
huge foundation of the earth shaked like

a coward.

Why, so it would have done at the same
season if your mother's cat had been

kittened, though you yourself had never
been born. I say the earth did shake

when I was born.

And I say the earth was not of my mind.

If you suppose as fearing you it should.
The heavens were all on fire, the earth

did tremble. Oh, then the earth shook to
see the heavens on fire.

And not in fear of your nativity.

Disease in nature oftentimes breaks
forth in strange eruptions. Oft the

teeming earth is with a kind of colic,
pinched and vexed by the imprisoning of

unruly wind within her womb.

which for enlargement striving shakes
the old bell-dam earth and topples down

steeples and moss-grown towers. At your
birth our grand-dam earth having this

distemperature in passion shook.

Cousin, of many men I do not bear these
crossings.

Give me leave to tell you once again
that at my birth

The front of heaven was full of fiery
shapes.

The goats ran from the mountains.

And the herds were strangely clamorous
to the frighted fields.

These signs have marked me
extraordinary.

And all the courses of my life do show I
am not in the role of common man.

Where is he living?

clipped in with the sea that chides the
banks of England, Scotland, Wales, that

calls me pupil, or hath read to me, and
bring him out that his butt-woman son

can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
and hold me pace in deep experiments.

I think there is no man speaks better
Welsh after dinner. Hey, peace, cousin

Percy. You will make him mad. I can call
spirits from the vasty deep. Why, so can

I. And so can any man.

But will they come?

When you do call for them.

Why, cousin, I can teach you to command
the devil.

And I can teach thee, cuz, to shame the
devil by telling truth.

Tell truth and shame the devil. If thou
have power to raise him, bring him

hither. Then I'll be sworn I have power
to shame him hence. Oh, while you live,

tell truth and shame the devil.

Come, here's the map.

Shall we divide our right according to
our threefold order, Teyon?

Divided? It is into three limits.

So... England by the rivers Trent and
Severn by the south and east

are, to my part, assigned.

All westward, Wales beyond the Severn
shore and all the fertile land within

this bound to Owen Glendower.

And, dear cuz, to you.

The remnant northward lying off from
Trent. Let me fix my portion north from

Burton here. In quantity equals not one
of yours.

See how this river comes me cranking in.

Cuts me from the best of all my land.

A huge half moon. A monstrous cantle at.

I'll have the current in this place
dammed up. And here the smug and silver

Trent shall run in a new channel. Fair?

And evenly.

It shall not wind with such a deep
indent to rob me of so rich a value

there. Not wind. It shall. It must. You
see, it doth.

Yea, and mark how it bears its course
and cuts me off with like advantage on

the other side. It's gilding the opposed
continent as much as on the other side

it takes from you.

Yea, but a little change.

We'll trench him.

Hit.

And on the north side win this cape of
land. And then he runs straight and

even. I'll have it so.

A little change will do it. I'll not
have it all done. Will not you?

No, no, you shall not. Who shall say me
nay? Why that will I? Let me not

understand you then.

Speak it in Welsh.

I can speak English, Lord, as well as
you.

For I was trained up in the English
court.

Where being but young, I framed to the
harp many an English city lovely well

and gave the tongue a helpful ornament,
a virtue that was never seen in you.

Come, you shall have Trent turned.

Nice one, lads.

I do not care.

Give thrice so much land to any
well-deserving friend.

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be
gone? The moon shines fair.

You may away by night.

Break with the ladies your departure
hence, for there will be a world of

water shed upon the parting of your
wives and you.

your shoulders how I wish it was for

your dad

of my poorest subjects are at this hour
asleep.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, nature's soft
nurse,

how have I frighted thee, that thou no
more wilt weigh my eyelids down, nor

steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Why rather sleep liest thou in smoky
cribs, upon uneasy pallets stretching

thee, and hushed with buzzing
night-flies to thy slumber than in the

perfumed chambers of the great, under a
canopy of costly state, and

lulled with sound of sweetest melody?

O thou dull god, why liest thou with the
vile in loathsome beds,

and leav'st the kingly couch a
watch-case or a common laram bell?

Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock

his brains in cradle of the rude,
imperious surge, and in the visitation

of the winds, who take the ruffian
billows by the top, curling their

monstrous heads, and hanging them with
deafening clamour in the slippery

clouds, that with the hurly death itself
awakes?

Canst thou?

O partial sleep!

Give thy repose to the wet seaboy In an
hour so rude And in

the calmest and most stillest night With
all appliances

and means to boot Deny it to a king

Then happy low lie down

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

I know not whether God would have it so
for some displeasing service I have

done, but thou dost in thy passages of
life make me believe that thou art only

marked for the hot vengeance and the rod
of heaven to punish my mistreadings.

Tell me else.

Could such inordinate and low desires,
such poor, such bare, such lewd,

such mean attempts, such barren
pleasures, rude society as thou art

matched withal and grafted to, accompany
the greatness of thy blood and hold

their level with thy princely heart? So
please, your majesty.

I would, I could, quit all offences with
this clear excuse, as well as I am

certain I can purge myself of many I am
charged withal.

Yet such extenuation let me beg, as in
this proof of many tales, devised by

smiling picktanks and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true,

wherein my youth had faulty wondered and
irregular,

Find pardon on my true submission. Thy
place in council thou hast rudely lost,

and art almost an alien to the hearts of
all the court and princes of thy blood.

The hope and expectation of thy time is
ruined, and the soul of

every man prophetically doth forethink
thy fall.

Had I so lavish of my presence been?

So cheap and stale to vulgar company,
opinion that did help me to the crown

had left me in reputeless banishment.

By being seldom seen, I could not stir,
but like a comet I was wondered at,

that men would tell their children, this
is he.

Others would say, where? Which is
Bolingbroke?

And then I stole all courtesy from
heaven and dressed myself in such

humility.

that I did pluck allegiance from men's
hearts, loud shouts and exclamations

from their mouths, even in the presence
of the crowning king.

The skipping king. He ambled up and
down, mingled his royalty with capering

fools, grew a companion to the common
streets, enfeefed himself to popularity.

So when he had occasion to be seen, he
was but as the cuckoo is in June.

Heard, not regarded.

Seen, but with such eyes as sick and
blunted with community, afford no

extraordinary gaze, such as is bent on
sun-like majesty, being with his

presence glutted, gorged, and full. And
in that very line, Harry, standest thou.

For thou hast lost thy princely
privilege with vile participation.

Not an eye, but is a weary of thy common
sight, save mine.

which hath desired to see thee more. I
shall hereafter, my twice-greatest lord,

be more myself. For all the world, as
thou art to this hour, was Richard then.

And even as I was then, is Hotspur now.

He hath more worthy interest to the
state than thou, the shadow of

succession.

He doth fill fields with harness to the
realm, turns head against a lion's angry

jaws, and being no more in debt to years
than thou, leads ancient lords and

reverend bishops on to bloody battles
and to bruising arms to shake the peace

and safety of our throne.

But wherefore do I tell these news to
thee? Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my

foes who art my nearest and dearest
enemy?

Thou art like enough through vassal
fear, base inclination and the start of

spleen to fight against me and the
hotspurs pay to dog his heels and curtsy

at his frowns to show how much thou art
degenerate. Do not think so!

You shall not find it so. And God
forgive those that so much have swayed

your majesty's good thoughts away from
me. I will redeem all this on Hotspur's

head. And in the closing of some
glorious day, be bold to tell you that I

am your son.

I will wear a garment all of blood and
stain my favours in a bloody mask which,

washed away, shall scour my shame with
it, and that shall be the day whene'er

it lights that this same child of honour
and renown, this gallant hotspur, this

all-praised knight, and your
unthought-of harried chants to meet, for

every honour sitting on his helm, would
they were multitudes, and on my head my

shames were doubled.

For the time will come when I will make
this northern youth exchange his

glorious deeds for my indignities. And I
will call him to so strict account that

he shall render every glory up, or I
will tear the reckoning from

his heart. This in the name of God I
promise here.

alone, this is not your scene, all
right? Whatever.

Hello, Sir Walter.

Thy looks are full of speed.

So have the news I come to speak of,
that Douglas and the English rebels met

the 11th of this month at Shrewsbury.

How mighty and a fearful head they are
as ever offered foul play in the state.

On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall step
forward. On Thursday, we ourselves shall

march. Come, let's away.

Advantage feeds him fat while men delay.

Now, now, Dame Partlet the Hen,

have you inquired yet who picked my
pocket?

Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir
John? Do you think... I keep thieves in

my house. I have searched. I have
inquired.

Man by man, boy by boy, servant by
servant.

The tenth part of a hair was never lost
in my house before. You lie, hostess.

I'll be sworn my pocket was picked.

Go to.

You are a woman.

Go. Who, I?

No, I defy thee.

God's light, I was never called so in my
own house before.

Go to. I know thee well enough.

No, Sir John.

You do not know me, Sir John.

I know you, Sir John. You owe me money,
Sir John.

And now you pick a quarrel to begal me
of it.

I brought you a dozen of shirts to your
back.

And for your diet and drinkings and
money lent you, you owe four and twenty

pounds. He had his part of it. Let him
pay.

He? Alas, he is poor. He hath nothing.

How poor?

Look upon his face. What call you rich?

He's Scottish. He's paranoid. He's
related to Donald Trump.

Oh, don't worry about it, mate. You
ain't got the hair.

Shall I not take my knees in mine in,
but I should have my pocket picked?

I have lost a seal ring of my
grandfather's worth 40 mark.

Oh, Jesus.

I've heard the prince tell him, I know
not how...

was copper.

Ow. The prince is a jack.

A sneak up.

Splat. And he were here, I would cudgel
him like a dog and he should say, so how

now, lad?

Is the wind in that dory faith? Must we
all march?

My lord, I pray you hear me.

What sayest thou, mistress, quickly?

How to thy husband?

I love him well. He's an honest man.

Good, my lord. Hear me. Privy, let her
alone and listen to me. What sayest

thou, Jack? The other night I fell
asleep here and had my... pocket picked.

This house is turned baldy house.

They pick pockets.

What does they'll lose, Jack? Well,
they'll believe me, Hal.

Three or four bonds worth forty pound
apiece and a seal ring of my

grandfather's. A trifle. Some eight
penny matter. So I told him, my lord,

and I said, I heard your grace say so,
and my lord, he speaks most vilely of

you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is,
and said he would cudgel you.

What? He did not.

Oh, there's neither faith, truth, nor
womanhood in me else. No more faith in

you than in a stewed prune.

Go, you thing, go.

Say what thing?

What thing? I am an honest man's wife,
and setting thy knighthood aside, thou

art a knave to call me such. Setting thy
womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say

otherwise. Say what beast? Thou knave
thou. What beast?

What an otter.

An otter? Sir John, why an otter? She's
neither fish nor flesh.

A man knows not where to have her. Thou
art an unjust man in saying so.

Thou or any man knows where to have me.
Thou knoth thou. Sex with you is like

throwing a sausage up a street.

Hey,

you've seen more pricks than a
dartboard.

You've got a snatch like a clown's
pocket.

You've got a twat like the... TARDIS!

Stick to the Shakespeare.

Hannah, we talked about this scene.
Yeah, we decided it was... No, you

decided. I know what you're trying to
do. Just... Just get on with the play.

Yeah.

Hostess, though say it's true. Yeah,
yeah, yeah. Come on, Andrea.

Come on.

Though say it's true, hostess, and he
slanders thee most grossly.

So he doth you, my lord.

and said this other day you owed him a
thousand pound.

Sarah, do I owe you a thousand pound? A
thousand pound? How?

A million?

Thy love is worth a million.

Nay, my lord, he called you Jack and
said he would cudgel you. Did I,

Bardolph? Did so, John, you said so.

Yet if he said my ring was copper... I
say it is copper.

There's no room for faith, truth or
honesty in this bosom of thine. It's all

filled up with guts and midriff.

You charge an honest woman with picking
thy pocket?

Aye, aye.

Why, thou whoreson, impudent rascal, art
thou not ashamed?

You confess, then, you picked my pocket.

It appears so, by the story.

Oh, Stess, I forgive thee.

Go, make ready breakfast.

Love thy husband.

Look to thy servants, cherish thy
guests.

Thou shalt find me tractable to any
honest reason.

Thou seest I am pacified.

Nay, prithee, be gone.

Now how to the news at court for the
robbery, lads? How is that answered?

Oh, my sweet beef, I must still be a
good angel to thee. The money is paid

back again. I am good friends with my
father.

And I may do anything.

Rob me the exchequer, the first thing
thou dost. Do my lot.

I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of
foot.

Oh, would it have been of horse?

Well, God be thanked for these rebels.

They offend none but the virtuous.

I'll load them.

Oh, I praise them.

Bardolph. My lord.

Go bear this letter to my lord of
Westmoreland.

Peto, to horse, to horse.

You and I have 30 miles to ride you out
of your dinner time.

Jack, meet me tomorrow in the temple
hall. Two o'clock in the afternoon.

There shalt thou know thy charge.

The land is burning.

Hotspur stands on high.

And neither we or they must lower lie.

Redwoods!

Oh, Stess, my breakfast, come.

Oh, I could wish this tavern were my
drum.

My noble Scot, 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. Thou art the king of
honour. No man so potent breathed upon

the ground, but I will defy him.

Do so, and tis well.

What letters hast thou there? These
letters come from your father.

Letters from him? Why comes he not
himself?

He cannot come, my lord.

He is grievous sick.

Sick? Now?

What droop now?

This sickness doth infect the very
lifeblood of our enterprise.

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 on any soul

deputed but his own.

Yet doth he give us bold advertisement
that with our small conjunction we

should on.

For as he writes, there is no quailing
now, because the king is certainly

possessed of all our purposes.

What say you to it?

Your father's sickness is a maimed doer.

There'll be thought by some that know
not why he is away, that wisdom,

loyalty, and mere dislike of our
proceedings kept the earl from him. I

rather of his absence make this use.

It lends a luster, a more great opinion,
a larger dare to our great

enterprise than if the earl were here.
For men may think if we, without his

help, can make a head to push against a
kingdom, with his help we shall turn it

topsy-turvy down.

My cousin Vernon, welcomed by my soul.

Pray God my news be worth a welcome,
Lord.

The Earl of Westmoreland, 7,000 strong,
is marching hitherwards. No harm.

What more? And further, I have learned
the King himself in person is set forth,

or hitherwards intended, speedily, with
strong and mighty preparation.

He shall be welcomed too.

Where is his son, the nimble-footed
madcap prince of Wales, and his comrades

that doffed the world aside and bid it
pass?

All furnished, all in arms, as full of
spirit as the month of May and

gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.

I saw young Harry with his armour on
rise from the ground like feathered

mercury and vaulted with such ease into
his seat.

as if an angel dropped down from the
clouds to turn and wind a fiery pegasus

and witch the world with noble
horsemanship. No more, no more.

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. The maled mass 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.

That Glendower will come.

There is more news.

He cannot draw his power this fourteen
days.

That's the worst tidings that I hear of
yet.

Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty
sound. What may the king's whole battle

reach unto?

Thirty thousand.

Forty! Let it be.

My father...

And Glendower be in both away.

The powers of us may serve so great a
day.

Come, let us take a muster speedily.
Your doomsday is near. Die all, die

merrily. I come with gracious offers of
the king, if you'll vouchsafe me hearing

and respect.

Welcome, my noble lord.

And would to God you are of our
determination. The king hath sent to

know the nature of your griefs. And
whereupon you conjure from the breast of

civil peace such bold hostility,
teaching his duteous land audacious

cruelty. My father and my uncle and
myself did give him that same royalty he

wears.

My lord, we will withdraw a while.

And in the morning shall my uncle
Worcester give the king our purposes.

So farewell.

How now, my lord of Worcester?

It is not well that you and I should
meet upon such terms as now we meet.

You have deceived our trust and made us
doff our easy robes of peace to

crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.

This is not well, my lord.

This is not well.

I'll say you to it.

Will you again unknit that churlish knot
of all abhorrent war?

and move in that obedient orb again
where you did give a fair and natural

light and be no more a prodigy of fear
and a portent of cursed mischief to the

unborn dimes.

Hear me, my liege.

For mine own part, I could be well
content to entertain the larg end of my

life with quiet hours, for I do protest
I have not sought the day of this

dislike. You have not sought it.

How comes it then?

Rebellion, lying is why, and I found it.
Peace to us, peace.

It did please your majesty to turn your
looks of favour from myself and all our

house. And yet I must remember you, my
lord. We were the first and dearest of

your friends. For you, my staff of
office, did I break in Richard's time.

hosted day and night to meet you on the
way and kiss your hand when yet you were

in place and in account nothing so
strong or fortunate as I. It was myself,

my brother and his son that brought you
home and boldly did out there the

dangers of the time. You swore to us and
you did swear that oath at Doncaster

that you did nothing purpose against the
state, nor claim no further than your

new fallen right, the seat of Gaunt,
dukedom of Lancaster. To this we swore

our aid, but in short space it rained
down fortune, showering on your

head, and such a flood of greatness fell
on you. What with our help?

What with the absent king?

What with the injuries of a wanton time,
the seeming sufferances that you had

borne, and the contrarious winds that
held the king so long in his unlucky

Irish wars that all in England did
repute him dead.

And from the swarm of fair advantages,
you took occasion to be quickly

wooed, to grip the general sway into
your hand.

Forget your oath to us at Doncaster, and
being fed by us, used us. So as that

ungentle gull, the cuckoo bird, useth
the sparrow, did oppress our nest and

grew by our feeding to so great a bulk
that even our love does not come near

your sight for fair swallowing.

But with nimble wing, we were enforced
for safety's sake to fly out of sight.

and raises present head whereby we stand
opposed by such means as you yourself

have forged against yourself by unkind
usage, dangerous countenance,

and violation of all faith and truth
sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

These things indeed you have articulate,
proclaimed at market crosses, read in

churches, to trim the garment of
rebellion with some fine colours that

may please the eye of fickle changelings
and poor discontents who gape and rub

the elbow at the news of pell-mell havoc
and confusion.

In both your armies there is many a soul
shall pay full dearly for this encounter

if once they join in trial.

Tell your nephew.

The Prince of Wales doth join with all
the world in praise of Harry Hotspur.

I do not think a braver gentleman, more
active, valiant, more daring, or more

bold, is now alive to grace this latter
age with noble deeds.

For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant bin to

chivalry, yet this But for my father's
majesty, I will, to save the blood on

either side, try fortune with him in a
single fight. And Prince of Wales,

so dare we venture thee, and yet
considerations infinite to make against

it.

No, good Worcester, no, we love our
people well, even those we love that are

misled upon your nephew's part. And will
they take the offer of our grace?

Both he and they and you, yea, every
man, shall be my friend again, and I'll

be his.

So tell your nephew, and bring me word
what he will do.

So be gone.

How?

If you should see me, down in the
battleground, and bestride me so.

Tis a point of friendship.

Nothing but a colossus can do thee that
friendship.

Say thy prayers and farewell.

I would it were bedtime, Hal, and all
were well.

Why thou ow'st God a death?

Tis not due yet.

I be so forward with him that calls not
on me?

Well, tis no matter.

Honor pricks me on.

Yeah, but how if honor do prick me off
when I come

on?

How then?

Can honor set a leg?

No.

Or an arm?

Or take away the grief of a wound?

No.

What is honour?

A word.

What is in that word, honour? What is
that, honour?

Air.

Who hath it?

He that died of Wednesday?

Doth he feel it?

No. Doth he hear it?

No.

Tis insensible then.

Yeah, to the dead.

But will it not live with the living?

No.

Why?

Slander will not suffer it.

Therefore I'll have none of it.

Honour is a mere scutcheon.

And so ends my catechism.

Oh no, mind have you must not know, good
Vernon, the liberal and

kind offer of the king.

T'was best he did, then are we all
undone.

It is not possible, it cannot be, the
king will keep his word in loving us.

He shall suspect us still and find the
time to pay this offense in other

faults. Look how we can, oh sad, oh
merrily.

Interpretation will misquote our looks,
and we shall feed like oxen at a stall,

the better cherished still than nearer
death.

My nephew's trespass may be well forgot,
but hath the excuse of youth and heat of

blood. All his offenses live upon my
head and upon his father's. We did train

him on, and his corruption be attained
from us. We, as the spring of all, shall

pay for all.

Therefore, good cousin.

Let not Hotspur know in any case the
offer of the king.

Deliver what you will. I'll say it is
so.

Here comes your nephew.

Uncle, what news?

There is no seeming mercy in the king.

Did you beg any? God forbid. I told him
gently of our grievances, of

his oath-breaking, which he mended thus.
He calls us traitors, rebels.

and will scourge with haughty arm that
hateful name in us. Arm, gentlemen, two

arms, for I will throw a brave defiance
in King Henry's teeth,

which cannot choose but bring him
quickly on.

My lord, here are letters for you.

I cannot read them now.

Gentlemen.

The time of life is short. To spend that
shortness basely were too long.

Let each man do his best.

Now, Esperance, Percy, and set on.

Sound all the lofty instruments of war.

And by that music, let us all embrace.

And if we live, we live to tread on
kings.

If die, brave death, when princes die
with us.

is thy name, that in this battle dost
thou crossest me?

No, then, my name is Douglas, and I do
haunt thee in the battle thus, because

some tell me that thou art a king.

They tell thee true.

Nay, then this arm shall end thee,
unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

I was not born a yielder, thou proud
scot.

All's one, here breathless lies the
king. Where?

Here. This, Douglas?

No, I know this face full well. A
gallant knight he was, his name was

Blunt, Semblably furnished like the king
himself.

A fool go with thy soul whither it goes.

Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a
king? The king hath many marching in his

coats. Now by this hand I'll kill all
his courts.

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

Another king?

God, they grow like hydra's heads.

I am the Douglas, foetal to all those
that wear those colours on them.

What art thou that counterfeits the
person of a king?

The king himself, who Douglas grieves at
heart so many of his shadows thou hast

met, and not the very king.

I fear thou art another counterfeit, and
yet in faith thou best thee like a king.

But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er
thou be, and thus I win thee. Hold up

thy head, vile Scot, or thou would like
never to hold it up again.

It is the Prince of Wales that threatens
thee. He'll never promise it, but he

means to pay.

If I mistake not, thou art the Prince of
Wales.

Thou speaks as if I would deny me name.

My name is Harry Hotspur.

Two stars keep not their motion in one
sphere, nor can one England brook a

double reign of Harry Hotspur and the
Prince of Wales. Nor shall it, Harry,

for the hour is come to end the one of
us.

And would to God thy name in arms were
now as great as mine.

robbed me of my youth.

I rather bear the loss of brittle life
than those proud titles thou hast

won of me.

They wound my thoughts more than sword
my flesh.

But thoughts, the slaves of life.

And life, time's fool.

And time that takes a survey of all the
world must have a stop.

I could prophesy, but that the earthy
and cold hand of death lies on my

tongue.

No, Hotspur, thou art dust and food for
worms.

For worms, brave Harry.

Fare thee well, great heart.

Thou weaved ambition, and what art thou
shrunk?

When that this body did contain a
spirit, a kingdom, for it was too small

a bound, but now two paces of the vilest
earth is room enough.

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to
heaven.

Old acquaintance.

Could not all this flesh keep in a
little life?

Poor Jack.

Farewell.

I could have better spared a better man.

Death had not struck so fat a deer
today.

Though many dearer in this bloody fray.

Embowelled will I see thee, by and by,
till then, in blood, by noble hots for

a life.

Embowelled?

Splug, t'was time to counterfeit.

Well that hot termagant Scott paid me,
Scott and Lot too.

The better part of valour is discretion.

Where in the better part I have saved me
life.

Soon's I am afraid of this gunpowder
hotspur, though he be dead.

For what if he doth counterfeit too and
rise?

Therefore I'll make him sure.

Yeah, and I'll swear I killed him.

Come here.

Did you not tell me this fat man was
dead?

I did.

I saw him dead, breathless and bleeding
on the ground.

I tell lies.

I pray thee, speak.

There is Percy.

If thy father should do me any honour,
so.

If not, let him kill the next hotspur
himself.

I look to be either an earl.

Or a duke, I can assure you.

Why, Hotspur, I killed myself and saw
thee dead.

Lord, how this world is given to lying?

I grant you I was down and out of breath
and so was he.

But we rose both at an instant and
fought a long hour.

This is the strangest tale that ever I
heard.

This is the strangest, fellow, my noble
lord. Come.

Bring your luggage nobly on your back.
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,

I'll gild it with the happiest terms I
have.

The trumpet sounds retreat.

The day is ours. He that rewards me, may
God reward him.

Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

Ill-spirited Worcester, did not we send
grace, pardon, and terms of love

to all of you? Five thousand creatures
would have lived this hour if, like a

Christian, thou hadst truly borne
betwixt our armies true intelligence.

What I have done, my safety urge me to,
and I embrace this fortune patiently.

Bear Worcester to the death.

And Vernon too.

Here the Douglas is.

I beseech your grace I may dispose of
him.

With all my heart.

Deliver him up to his pleasure,
ransomless and free.

His valour shown upon our crests today
had taught us all to cherish such high

deeds, even in the bosom of our
adversaries.

Then this remains that we divide our
powers. My cousin Westmoreland toward

York shall bend you with your dearest
speed.

Myself and you, son Harry, will to Wales
to fight Glendower and the Mortimer who,

as we hear, are busily in arms.

Rebellion in this land shall lose his
sway, meeting the check of such another

day.

Who keeps the gate here, ho?

He that but fears the thing he would not
know hath by instinct knowledge from

others' eyes that what he feared is
chanced. Say not that Hotspur's dead.

I am sorry I should force you to believe
that which I would to God I had not

seen.

But these mine eyes saw him in bloody
state,

rendering faint quittance.

wearied and out-breathed to the Prince
of Wales, whose swift wrath beat

down our never-daunted hotspur to the
earth, from whence with life

he never more sprung up.

The sum of all is that the King hath
won.

That is the news at full.

Sweet earl, divorce not your wisdom from
your honour.

The lives of all your loving complices
lean on your health, the which, if you

give o'er to stormy passion, must of
force decay.

I hear for certain, and do speak truth,
the Archbishop of York is up with well

-appointed powers.

He is a man who with a double surety
binds his followers, turns insurrection

to religion, and more and less do you
flock to follow him. Go in with me. I'll

counsel every man the aptest way for
safety and revenge.

My honour is at pawn, and but my going,
nothing can redeem it. Ah, for God's

sake, go not to these wars!

The time was, father, that you broke
your word when

your dear Percy, when my heart's dear
Harry, threw many a northward look to

see his father bring up his powers.

But he did long in vain.

What then persuaded you to stay at home?

There were two honours lost, yours and
your son's. For yours, the God

of heaven, brighten it. For his, it
stuck upon him as the sun

in the grey vault of heaven.

And by his light did all the chivalry of
England move to do brave acts

in speech, in gait, in diet, in
affections of delight, in military

rules, in humours of blood.

He was the mark and glass, copy and book
that fashioned others.

And him...

unseconded by you, to look upon the
hideous god of war in

disadvantage, so you left him.

Never, never do his ghost the wrong to
hold your honour

more precise and nice with others than
with him.

Let them alone.

The Marshal and the Archbishop are
strong.

Had my sweet Harry had but half their
numbers today, might I, hanging on

Hotspur's neck, have talked of a
prince's grave?

Be sure your heart, fair daughter.

You do draw my spirits from me with new
lamenting ancient oversights. But I must

go and meet with danger there, or he
will seek me in another place and find

me worse provided.

Within doors and none abroad.

How doth the king?

Exceeding ill.

I heard ye the good news, yes.

The earl of Northumberland is
overthrown. He altered much upon the

hearing it. If he be sick with joy,
he'll recover without physic. Not so

much noise, my lord. Sweet prince, speak
low.

The king your father is disposed to
sleep.

Let us withdraw into the other room.
We'll please your grace to go along with

us. No, I will sit and watch here by the
king.

Why does the crown lie here upon his
pillow?

Being so troublesome a bad fellow.

Oh, polished perturbation.

Golden care.

There lies a downy feather which stirs
not.

Did he suspire that light and weightless
down, perforce, must move?

My gracious lead.

My father.

This sleep is sound indeed.

This is a sleep that from this golden
wriggle has divorced so

many English kings.

thy due from me is tears

and heavy sorrows of the

blood, which nature,

love and filial

tenderness shall, O dear father, pay
thee plenteously.

And thy due to me is this imperial
crown,

which as immediate as thy place and
blood

derives itself to me.

Lo, here it sits,

which God shall guard, and put the

world's whole strength into one giant
arm.

It shall not force this lineal honour
from me. Dost thou so hunger for mine

empty chair that thou wilt needs invest
thee with my honours before thy hour be

ripe? O foolish youth, thou seek'st the
greatness that will overwhelm thee.

Thou hast stolen that which after some
few hours were thine without offence.

Thy life did manifest, thou lovest me
not, and thou wilt have me die ashore of

it. Then get thee gone, and dig my grave
thyself, and bid the merry bells ring to

thine ear that thou art crowned, not
that I am dead.

Give that which gave thee life unto the
worms.

Pluck down, my officers, break my
decrees.

Harry V is crowned.

all you sage counsellors hence, and to
the English court assemble now from

every region, apes of idleness.

Now, neighbour confines, purge you of
your scum. Have you a ruffian that will

swear, drink, dance, revel the night,
rob, murder, commit the oldest sins, the

newest kind of ways, be happy, he will
trouble you no more.

England shall give him office, honour,
might, for the fifth.

Harry from curbed license plucks the
muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog

shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.

Oh, my poor country, sick with civil
blows, oh, thou wilt be a wilderness

again, peopled with wolves, thine old
inhabitants.

There is your crown.

God witness with me, when I here came in
and found no course of breath within

your majesty, how cold it struck my
heart.

If I do fain, I'll let me in my present
wildness die and never live to show the

incredulous world the noble change that
I have purposed.

Coming to look on you, thinking you dead
and dead.

Almost my liege to think you were. I
spake unto this crown as having sense,

and thus upbraided it. The care on thee,
depending, hath

fed upon the body of my father.

Therefore, thou best of gold art worst
of gold.

Other less fine in carat is more
precious.

preserving life and medicine, potable,
but thou, most fine, most honoured, most

renowned, as at thy bearer up, and thus
my most royal liege, I put it on my head

to try with it, as with an enemy that
had before my face murdered my

father, the quarrel of a true inheritor.
Come hither, Harry.

Sit thou by my bed.

and here I think the very latest counsel
that ever I shall breathe.

God knows, my son, by what by-paths and
indirect crooked ways I met this crown.

But now my death changes the mood, for
what in me was purchased falls upon

thee in a more fairer sort.

Yet though thou stand'st more strong
than I could do, thou art not firm

enough. since griefs are green, and all
my friends, which thou must make thy

friends, have but their stings and teeth
newly ta'en out. Therefore, my Harry,

be at thy course to busy giddy minds
with foreign quarrels,

that action thus borne out may waste the
memory of the former days.

Ah, more would I.

But my lungs are wasted so that strength
of speech is utterly denied me.

How I came by the crown, O God forgive,

and grant it may with thee in

true peace live.

My gracious Lise, you warn us, war

us. kept as gave it me, then plain and
right must

my possession be, which I, with more
than with a common pain, against all

the world will rightfully maintain.

Health, peace, and happiness to our
royal father.

Doth any name particular belong unto
this chamber where I first did swoon?

Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord.

Lord be to God, it hath been prophesied
to me many years,

I should not die, but in Jerusalem,
which

vainly I supposed the Holy Land.

In this Jerusalem, let Harry die.

Show me, masters.

I shall make the king do you grace. I
shall leer upon him as he comes by and

do but mark the countenance that he will
give me.

God bless thy lungs, good name. Come
here, Bardolph.

Stand behind me.

Oh, if I had had time to have made new
liveries, I would have bestowed the

money I borrowed on you.

But it is no matter. This poor show doth
better.

This doth infer the zeal I have to see
him. It does, sir. It shows my

earnestness of affection, my devotion,
as it were, to ride day and

night, and not to deliberate, not to
remember, not to have patience to shift

me. Tis best certain.

But to stand stained with travel and
sweating with desire to see him,

thinking of nothing else, putting all
affairs else in oblivion, as if...

There were nothing to be done but to sow
you. To sow indeed. So shaken as we are,

so one 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.

speak to thee, my heart.

I know thee not, old man.

Fall to thy prayers.

How ill white hairs become a fool and
jester.

Oh, I have long dreamed of such a kind
of man.

So surfaced, swelled, so old, and so
profane, but being awaked, I do

despise my dream. Make less thy body,
hence, and more.

thy grace, leave gormandising, know the
grave doth gape for thee, thrice wider

than for other men, replying not to me
with a fool-born jest, presume not that

I am the thing I was.

For God doth know, and so shall the
world perceive, that I have

turned away my former self.

So will I those that kept me company.

When thou dost hear that I am as I have
been, approach me, and thou shalt be as

thou wast, the tutor and the feeder of
my riots. Till then, I banish thee on

pain of death, not to come near our
person by ten miles. Rosie, don't go!

Don't do it! You won't make it on the
outside! Get off me!

No, get off!

Rosie, don't!