KING HENRY IV.

PART SECOND.

The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth owes its origin—like the prevenient and subsequent plays-Henry the Fourth Part First, and Henry the Fifth,-partly to the "Chronicles" of Holinshed, and principally to an anonymous drama (performed several years before Shakespeare became a writer for the stage), entitled "The famous Victories of Henry the Fifth."

The first edition of this play was registered in 1599, and published in 1600 it is remarkable for containing on its title page the first entry of Shakespeare's name as a dramatic author. Another edition, with considerable alterations, was printed in the same year. No subsequent edition appeared till the folio collection of 1623.

The Second Part begins with news of the Battle at Shrewsbury in 1403, and is continued till the Death of Henry in 1413. The Time therefore extends over nine years.

The Scenes of the action are in various parts of England.

As a kind of Prologue, or, as it is called, an Induction, Shakespeare introduces the Second Part of King Henry the Fourth by a mythological personage called Rumour, painted over with tongues. The object is to connect this Part with the First one. This Induction is supposed to be spoken outside the Earl of Northumberland's residence at Warkworth.

Rum. Open your ears: For which of you will 'stop
The vent of hearing, when loud 'Rumour speaks?
I, from the Orient to the drooping West,
Making the 'wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commencing on this ball of Earth:
Upon my tongues continual 'slanders ride,
(The which in 'every language I pronounce,)
Stuffing the ears of men with 'false reports.
I speak of 'Peace; while covert Enmity,
Under the smile of 'safety, wounds the world:
And who but Rumour,-who but 'only I,-
Make fearful musters and prepared 'defence?
Say, Why is Rumour 'here?

I run 'before King Harry's victory;
Who, in a bloody field, by Shrewsbury,

Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops;
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' 'blood. My office is
To noise abroad,-that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword;
And that the King, before the Douglas' rage,
Stooped his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumoured-through the pleasant* towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten holdt of ragged stone;
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies 'crafty-sick. The posts come 'tiring on;
And not a man of them brings other news

Than they have learned of 'me: from Rumour's tongues.
They bring smooth comforts 'false, 'worse than true
'wrongs.

[Exit.

The first Scene opens on the Earl of Northumberland's Castle at Warkworth. The Earl, pretending still to suffer from his feigned sickness, which had kept him away from the battle at Shrewsbury, does not yet know its result. Lord Bardolph, outside the Castle, calls:

L. Bard. Who keeps the gate here? ho!—

O. R. peasant.

+ Stronghold.

The Porter appears.

Tell thou the Earl

That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. Port. His lordship is walked forth into the orchard: Please it your honour, 'knock but at that gate, And he 'himself will answer.

The Earl of Northumberland enters:

North. What news, Lord Bardolph ? every minute 'now
Should be the father of some 'stratagem.*

The times are wild: Contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, 'madly hath broke loose,
And bears down all before him.

L. Bard.

Noble Earl,
I bring you 'certain news from Shrewsbury: -
The King is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright. O, such a day,
So fought, so followed, and so fairly 'won,
Came not, till now, to dignify the times,
Since 'Cæsar's fortunes!

North.

How is this 'derived?

'Saw you the field? came 'you from Shrewsbury? L. Bard. I 'spake with one, my lord, that came from thence. North. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent,

On Tuesday last, to listen after news.

L. Bard. My lord, I 'over-rode him on the way;
And he is furnished with no 'certainties,
More than he haply may retail from 'me.
North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with 'you?
Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turned me back

[Travers enters.

With 'joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, Out-rode me. After him came, spurring hard, A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,Who asked the way to Chester; and of him I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: He told me that rebellion had 'ill luck, And that young Harry Percy's spur was 'cold. North. Ha!-Again.† Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?

Lord Bardolph advances :

L. Bard. He was some 'hilding‡ fellow, that had 'stolen The horse he rode on; and, upon my life,

Spoke at a 'venture. Look, here comes 'more news.

*Military exploit.

Repeat. Say again.

+ Dastard, base.

Morton, another retainer, enters.

North. Yea, 'this man's brow, like to a 'title-leaf,
Foretells the nature of a 'tragic volume:
Say, Morton, didst 'thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord.

North.

How doth my 'son? ... and brother?...
Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy 'tongue to tell thy errand.
Even 'such a man, so faint, so woe-begone,
Drew 'Priam's curtain in the dead of night,

And 'would have told him, half his Troy was 'burned;
But Priam 'found the fire ere he his tongue-
And I my Percy's 'death ere thou report'st it.

This thou wouldst say,-" Your son did thus, and thus ;
Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas ;"
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds:
But in the 'end,-to stop mine ear 'indeed,—
Thou hast a 'sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with "Brother, son, and all, are 'dead!"
Mor. 'Douglas is living, and your 'brother, yet;
But for my lord your 'son,-

North.
Why, he is dead! ...
See, what a ready tongue 'Suspicion hath!
I see a strange 'confession in thine eye:
Yet the 'first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a 'sullen 'bell,

Remembered knolling a departed friend.
L. Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
Mor. I'm sorry I should 'force you to believe

That, which I would to Heaven I had not 'seen;
But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
Rendering 'faint quittance,* wearied and outbreathed,
To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down
The never-daunted Percy to the earth,

From whence with life he never more sprang up.
Then did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,

'Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester

Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,

The bloody Douglas, stumbling in fear, was took. The
'sum of all

Is that the King hath 'won; and hath sent out
A speedy power,-to encounter 'you, my lord,—
Under the conduct of young Lancaster.

* Return of blow.

North. For this I shall have time enough to 'mourn.
In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been 'well, that would have made me 'sick,
'Being sick, have in some measure made me 'well.-
'Now, bind my brows with 'iron; and approach
The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring!
Let heaven kiss earth! now, let not Nature's hand
Keep the wild flood 'confined! let order 'die!
And let this world no longer be a 'stage
To feed contention in a 'lingering act;
But let 'one spirit-of the first-born Cain—
Reign in 'all bosoms; that, 'each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may 'end,
And darkness be the 'burier of the dead!

Lord Bardolph, Morton, and Travers expostulate with the Earl for his unexpected violence.

L. Bard. Sweet Earl, divorce not 'wisdom from

Mor.

our.

your 'hon

We all, that are engaged to face this loss,
'Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas,
That, if we wrought out 'life, 't was ten to one;
And yet we ventured.

And, my noble lord,
The gentle 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 :

Derives from 'Heaven his quarrel and his cause;
And more and less do 'flock to follow him.
North. I 'knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
This present grief had wiped it from my mind.
Go in with me; and counsel every man
The aptest way for safety and revenge:

Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed:
Never so 'few, nor never yet more 'need.

[Exeunt.

Scene now changes to a Street in London; the fat Sir John, iters pensively along, attended by a sharp-eyed little boy bearing a sword and buckler.

rah, you giant, what says the Doctor to my sympoms?

He said, sir, that, for the party that sent me, he night have 'more diseases than he knew for.