The Hollow Crown

(MARKET SELLERS BARGAlNlNG WlTH SHOPPERS)

-Oi! -Sorry.

Hello.

Now, Hal...

What time of day is it, lad?

What a devil hast thou to do With the time of the day?

Unless hours were cups of sack And minutes capons

And clocks the tongues of bawds And dials the signs of leaping-houses

And the blessed sun himself A fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta

l see no reason why thou shouldst be So superfluous to demand the time of the day.

(MUMBLlNG) Hang yourself, you muddy conger...

My liege, 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

A thousand of his people butchered...

Upon his dead corpse there was such misuse Such beastly shameless transformation

By those Welshwomen done as may not be Without much shame retold or spoken of...

KlNG HENRY: lt seems then that the tidings of this broil

Break off our business for the Holy Land.

This matched with other does my gracious lord

For more uneven and unwelcome news

Comes from the north and thus it does import:

The gallant Hotspur there Young Harry Percy and the brave Douglas

That ever-valiant and approved Scot At Holmedon met

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,

Despite discharge of their artillery

And shape of likelihood, the news is told,

For he that brought it, in the very heat And pride of their contention did take horse

Uncertain of the issue any way.

Here is a dear, a true industrious friend...

Sir Walter Blunt, hath brought us welcome news.

-The Earl of Douglas is discomfited. -(ALL CHEERlNG)

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and 20 knights,

Balked in their own blood, did Sir Walter see.

Of prisoners, Hotspur took

Mordake the Earl of Fife, the Earls of Atholl,

Of Murray, Angus and Menteith. ls not this an honourable spoil?

A gallant prize, ha, cousin, is it not?

lt is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

Yea

There thou makest me sad And makest me sin ln envy

That my Lord Northumberland Should be the father to so blest a son

Whilst l, by looking on the praise of him

See riot and dishonour stain the brow Of my young Harry.

O that it could be proved That some night-tripping fairy did exchange

ln cradle-clothes our children where they lay

And called mine Percy, his Plantagenet,

Then would l have his Harry and he mine.

But l prithee, sweet wag, shall there be

gallows standing in England when thou art king?

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

-Er no, thou shalt. -(FALSTAFF URlNATlNG)

Shall l? O rare! By the Lord, l'll be a brave judge.

Thou judgest false already.

l mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves

and so become a rare hangman.

Well, Hal, well, and in some sort it jumps with my humours...

-Hmm. -As well as waiting in the court, l tell you.

But, l prithee, trouble me no more with vanity.

l would to God thou and l knew where a commodity

-of good names were to be bought. -Uh-huh.

An old lord of the council rated me

-the other day in the street about you, sir. -Mmm-hmm.

But l marked him not. And yet he talked very wisely but l regarded him not.

-And yet he talked wisely and in the street too. -(CHUCKLlNG)

Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the street and no man regards it.

O, let him from my thoughts.

Well, what think you, coz,

Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners, Which he in this adventure hath surprised,

To his own use he keeps and sends me word

-l shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. -(WESTMORELAND CHUCKLlNG)

This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester Malevolent to you in all aspects

Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.

Well, we will send for him to answer this.

Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it.

Before l knew thee, Hal, l knew nothing, and now am l, if a man should speak truly,

-little better than one of the wicked. -Mmm-hmm.

l must give over this life and l will give it over by the Lord.

-And l do not, l'm a villain. -Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?

'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, l'll make one.

And l do not, call me villain and baffle me.

l see a good amendment of life in thee from praying to purse-taking.

Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal, 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.

-(KNOCKlNG AT DOOR) -Ah, Poins!

Hey, good morning! Good morrow, sweet.

What says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Now tomorrow morning, by four o'clock,

there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings

and traders riding to London.

lf you will go, l will stuff your purses full of crowns.

lf you will not, tarry at home and be hanged.

Hear ye, Yedward, if l tarry at home and go not, l'll hang you for going.

POlNS: You will, chops?

Hal, wilt thou make one?

Who, l rob? l a thief? Not l, 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 1 0 shillings.

Well then, once in my days l'll be a madcap.

-Why, that's well said. -Well, come what will, l'll tarry at home.

By the Lord, l'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

l care not.

l 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 of profiting. -(CHUCKLlNG)

Farewell, thou latter spring.

Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow.

l've a jest to execute that l cannot manage alone.

Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto shall rob these men. Yourself and l will not be there.

When they have the booty,

if you and l do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders.

Yea, but 'tis like they will know us by our habits

and by every other appointment to be ourselves.

l have buckram cloaks to mask our noted outward garments.

Yea, but they will be too hard for us.

Well, for two of them, l know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back,

and for the third, if he fights longer than he sees reason, l'll forswear arms.

The virtue of this jest will be the incomprehensible lies

this same fat rogue will tell us when we meet at supper.

Provide us all things necessary and meet me here to-morrow night.

-Farewell. -Farewell, my lord.

l know you all and will awhile uphold

The unyoked humour of your idleness

Yet herein will l imitate the sun,

Who 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.

lf all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work.

But when they seldom come, they wished for come

And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

So, when this Ioose behaviour I throw off And pay the debt l never promised,

By how much better than my word l am,

By so much shall l falsify men's hopes.

And 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 foiI to set it off.

l'll so offend, to make offence a skill,

Redeeming time when men think least l will.

KlNG HENRY: Our blood hath been too cold and temperate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities.

So have you found us, for accordingly, you tread upon our patience.

But be sure,

l will from henceforth rather be myself,

mighty and to be feared, than my condition,

which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

and therefore lost that title of respect

Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.

Our house, my sovereign liege,

little deserves this scourge of greatness to be used on it,

That same greatness to which our own hands

-have helped to make so portly. -My lord...

Worcester, get thee gone, for l do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye.

-My Lord... -O, sir, your presence here

is too bold and peremptory, and majesty might never yet endure

the moody frontier of a servant brow.

You have good leave to leave us.

When we need your use and counsel, we will send for you.

You were about to speak.

Yea, my good lord.

Those prisoners in your highness name demanded,

which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took

were, as he says, not with such strength denied

-as is delivered to your majesty. -Well...

Either envy, therefore, or misprision

ls guilty of this fault and not my son.

-My liege, l did deny no prisoners. -Shh, shh!

But l remember, when the fight was done, When l was dry with rage and extreme toil,

Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed,

Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped

Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home.

With many holiday and lady terms He questioned me

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

l then, All smarting with my wounds being cold

To be so pestered with a popinjay

Out of my grief and my impatience Answered neglectingly

l 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...

And telling me The sovereignest thing on earth

-Was parmaceti for an inward bruise -(ALL LAUGHlNG)

And but for these vile guns He would himself have been a soldier

This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord l answered indirectly, as l said

And l beseech you, let not his report Come current for an accusation

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

The circumstance considered, good my lord,

Whatever Lord Harry Percy then had said To such a person and in such a place

At such a time, with all the rest retold

May reasonably die and never rise To do him wrong or any way impeach

What then he said, so he unsay it now.

Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners

But with proviso and exception That we at our own cost shall ransom straight

His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer.

Mmm-hmm.

On the barren mountains let him starve.

l will never hold that man my friend

Who asks me for one penny cost To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

-Revolted Mortimer? -Sir!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege But by the chance of war.

-To prove that true... -Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer!