HENRY IV: PART I, ACT III
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT III
Last time, on Henry IV: Part I...
Falstaff stole 300 marks from some travelers and told a bunch of fibs!
Prince Hal stole 300 marks from Falstaff and got really good at drinking!
Hotspur fought with his wife and rebelled against King Henry IV!
King Henry IV called Prince Hal back to court!
Prince Hal and Falstaff had an invigorating role-play session!
...and now, the thrilling continuation.
---
ACT III, SCENE I
Wales. A room.
Hotspur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, and Owen Glendower are getting together to divide up the country they've yet to conquer. Apparently they've never heard of counting one's chickens before they hatch. Hotspur keeps his temper under control--
A plague upon it! I have forgot the map.
--for a whole two sentences. New record! Well done, Hotspur!
Glendower starts going on about how he totally has magical powers, you guys. No, seriously, there was an earthquake on the day he was born, this shit is legit. Hotspur is less than impressed.
Hotspur: Why, so it would have done at the same season if your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself had never been born.
Hotspur tries valiantly to explain concepts such as "science is a thing that happens" and "the entire world does not revolve around you, Glendower," but Glendower is having none of it.
Glendower: Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossing. 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 roll of common men.
Where he is living, clipped in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
And bring him out that is but woman's son
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
And hold me pace in deep experiments.
Also he can call spirits from the vasty deep and he's married to Severus Snape on the astral plane. What say you to THAT, eh, Hotspur?
Hotspur: I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. I'll to dinner.
Ooh, sick burn.
Finally they all turn their attention to the map that Hotspur forgot but Glendower remembered. There's some argument about who's getting a better deal out of this whole rebellion business. It blows up into another fight between Hotspur and Glendower that forces Glendower to exit.
Mortimer chides Hotspur for being mean at Glendower, to which Hotspur replies that he was forced to listen to Glendower listing names of devils for upwards of nine hours last night and there's only so much Harry Potter bullshit one man can take. Mortimer counters that Glendower is usually twice as obnoxious and is actually holding himself back out of respect for Hotspur. Worcester chimes in to tell Hotspur to chill out once in a while. Hotspur is humbled, and Glendower re-enters with everyone's wives.
A few brief notes:
- Owen Glendower is the father of Lord Mortimer's wife.
- Lord Mortimer's wife speaks no English, only Welsh.
- Lort Mortimer himself speaks no Welsh, only English.
- Hotspur's wife is called Lady Percy in this scene because otherwise the reader would get her confused with all the other ladies runnin' around.
Anyway, Lord Mortimer's wife (Lady Mortimer? Can I call her that? Sure, why not.) is quite distressed that he's leaving, and offers to go with him and be a soldier, too. With Glendower acting as translator, Mortimer and his lady tell each other very prettily how much in love they are. One gets the impression that this will be super adorbs if it appears on screen.
Lady Mortimer tells Lord Mortimer to lay his head in her lap while she sings him a song. D'aww. Hotspur thinks this is a fantastic idea and bids Lady Percy do the same for him. She's like, no. Hotspur refuses to sit still and shut up. They bicker.
Lady Percy: Now God help thee!
Hotspur: To the Welsh lady's bed.
Lady Percy: What's that?
Hotspur: Peace! She sings.
Oh you wacky kids.
Hotspur asks his wife to sing for him again, she refuses again, and all the men go off to the wars.
---
ACT III, SCENE II
London. The palace.
We already know how The Hollow Crown is going to handle this scene thanks to this handy dandy preview, but what the hell, let's recap it anyway.
King Henry IV, Prince Hal, and a shitload of nobles are all hanging around court. The King asks the nobles to gtfo so he can talk to his son alone. This is what he has to say:
I know not whether God will have it so
For some displeasing service I have done,
That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
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?
Essentially, the King believes that Prince Hal was sent by God as punishment. Harsh, bro. What does the prince have to say for himself?
Prince: So please your Majesty, I would I could
Quit all offenses with as clear excuse
As well as I am doubtless I can purge
Myself of many I am charged withal.
Yet such extenuation let me beg
As, in reproof of many tales devised,
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear
By smiling pick thanks and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true wherein my youth
Hath faulty wand'red and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.
Translation: "Okay, yeah, you got me, but only like 50% of those accusations are true."
The King is not pleased by this response.
King: God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court and princes of my blood.
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruined, and the soul of every man
Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
Trans.: Every drunk in every tavern, inn, and whorehouse thinks they're BFF with Prince Hal. This is not a good, since there is a fine line between "one of us" and "no better than us," and ending up on the latter side of that distinction makes it damn hard to get people to respect you. Also, everyone at court, aka the people the Prince is actually going to have to work with someday, have no idea who he is beyond "drunken frat boy" and have already made up their minds that he's gonna be a shitty king.
The King goes on.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession
And left me in reputeless bahishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But, like a comet, I was wond'red 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 salutations from their mouths
Even in the presence of the crownèd King.
Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen but wond'red at; and so my state,
Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
And won by rareness such solemnity.
Trans.: The King did the exact opposite of Prince Hal when he was young, and look where it got him! The flippin' crown.
Furthermore, sayeth the King:
The skipping King, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state;
Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools;
Had his great name profanèd with their scorns
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative;
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoffed himself to popularity;
That, being daily swallowed by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
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 sunlike majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes;
But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,
Slept in his face, and rend'red such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.
Trans.: King Richard II was more concerned with looking pretty and having fun than with acting like a king, and look where it got him. Hella dead, and also no friends.
You'd think the King would have to breathe at some point. You'd be wrong.
And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;
For thou has lost thy princely privilege
With vile participation. Not an eye
But is aweary of thy common sight,
Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more;
Which now doth that I would not have it do--
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
Trans.: "Oh hey, you know who reminds me of Richard II? You."
What could Prince Hal possibly say in his defense after no less than sixty-three lines of scolding?
Prince: I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
Be more myself.
...
...Yeah, no.
The King gears himself up for another ripping speech.
King: For all the world,
As thou art to his hour was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh;
And even as I was then is Percy now.
Now, by my scepter, and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to the state
Than thou the shadow of succession;
For of no right, nor color like to right,
He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
Turns head against the lion's armèd 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.
Trans.: "WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE HOTSPUR?!"
What never-dying honor hath he got
Against renownèd Douglas! whose high deeds,
Whose hot incursions and great name in arms
Holds from all soldiers chief majority
And military title capital
Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,
This infant warrior, in his enterprises
Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once,
Enlargèd him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deep defiance up
And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer
Capitulate against us and are up.
Trans.: "Hotspur is pretty much the best fighter ever and has united Northumberland, the Archbishop of York, Douglas, and Mortimer against us. We are completely fucked."
But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
Which art my nearest and dearest enemy?
That thou art like enough, through vassal fear,
Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
To fight against me under Percy's pay,
To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,
To show how much thou art degenerate.
Trans.: "Why am I even telling you this? You'll probably turn around and go join Hotspur. Lick his boots, even."
...fucking ouch, man.
This last accusation/insult seems to be the last straw for Prince Hal, and he's galvanized to respond more passionately.
Prince: Do not think so, you shall not find it so.
And God forgive them that so much have swayed
Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me.
I will redeem all this on Percy's head
And, in the closing of some glorious day,
Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favors 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 honor and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praisèd knight,
And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
For every honor sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! For the time will come
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call him to so strict account
That he shall render every glory up,
Yeah, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This in the name of God I promise here;
The which if he be pleased I shall perform,
I do beseech your Majesty may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance.
If not, the end of life cancels all bands,
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
Trans.: "I WILL MAKE YOU PROUD OR DIE TRYING."
Seriously, though, this scene is heartbreaking. Prince Hal, you tragic little fuckup.
The King is finally satisfied that his message got through to his son, and he makes plans for battle. Next Wednesday, he's sending Prince Hal to war. The King himself will be there on Thursday. Make him proud, kid.
---
ACT III, SCENE III
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
Falstaff is concerned that he's losing weight due to stress. He spends half a page comparing Bardolph's face to various kinds of fire, which I think is supposed to be an insult. Bardolphs response is as follows.
Bardolph: 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
My footnotes assure me that this is a proverbial retort, and not in fact a come-on.
Falstaff is also pretty sure he's been pickpocketed. He complains to the inn's hostess, who retorts that he owes her far more than he's lost. Falstaff says one of the items stolen from him was his grandfather's seal ring, worth at least forty mark! But according to the hostess, the prince said the ring was only copper. Falstaff calls the prince a liar and says he'd hit him with a big stick if he were here. Naturally, this is the prince's cue to enter.
Falstaff tells the prince about the pickpocketing. The prince repeats that the ring is not worth nearly as much as Falstaff believes. The hostess chimes in and tells the prince of Falstaff's threat to hit him for saying so. This sets off another argument between the hostess and Falstaff, with him calling her several hundred different kinds of unfaithful.
Falstaff: Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.
Hostess: Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!
Prince: Thou say'st true, hostess, and he slanders thee most grossly.
Oh, Hal.
They bring the argument back around to its point, that being Falstaff's threat to hit the prince.
Falstaff: Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
Prince: I say 'tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now?
Falstaff: Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare; but as thou art Prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.
Prince: And why not as the lion?
Falstaff: The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, and I do, I pray God my girdle break.
Oof. Coming right after his father's lecture, that's gotta sting. Prince Hal flips it, just a little, calling Falstaff a cowardly liar and demanding to know how he can behave so shamelessly. Falstaff says... something I can't quite parse.
Falstaff: Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?
Prince Hal confesses, though whether because he actually did it or because he wants to shut Falstaff up, I'm not sure.
Falstaff forgives all, and asks about the robbery. Prince Hal informs him that the money has been repaid. He then asks Bardolph and Peto to bear letters to his allies, and Falstaff to meet him tomorrow at two o'clock in the Temple Hall. Storm's a-comin'.
---
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT I
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT II
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT III
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT IV
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT V
Last time, on Henry IV: Part I...
Falstaff stole 300 marks from some travelers and told a bunch of fibs!
Prince Hal stole 300 marks from Falstaff and got really good at drinking!
Hotspur fought with his wife and rebelled against King Henry IV!
King Henry IV called Prince Hal back to court!
Prince Hal and Falstaff had an invigorating role-play session!
...and now, the thrilling continuation.
---
ACT III, SCENE I
Wales. A room.
Hotspur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, and Owen Glendower are getting together to divide up the country they've yet to conquer. Apparently they've never heard of counting one's chickens before they hatch. Hotspur keeps his temper under control--
A plague upon it! I have forgot the map.
--for a whole two sentences. New record! Well done, Hotspur!
Glendower starts going on about how he totally has magical powers, you guys. No, seriously, there was an earthquake on the day he was born, this shit is legit. Hotspur is less than impressed.
Hotspur: Why, so it would have done at the same season if your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself had never been born.
Hotspur tries valiantly to explain concepts such as "science is a thing that happens" and "the entire world does not revolve around you, Glendower," but Glendower is having none of it.
Glendower: Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossing. 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 roll of common men.
Where he is living, clipped in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
And bring him out that is but woman's son
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
And hold me pace in deep experiments.
Also he can call spirits from the vasty deep and he's married to Severus Snape on the astral plane. What say you to THAT, eh, Hotspur?
Hotspur: I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. I'll to dinner.
Ooh, sick burn.
Finally they all turn their attention to the map that Hotspur forgot but Glendower remembered. There's some argument about who's getting a better deal out of this whole rebellion business. It blows up into another fight between Hotspur and Glendower that forces Glendower to exit.
Mortimer chides Hotspur for being mean at Glendower, to which Hotspur replies that he was forced to listen to Glendower listing names of devils for upwards of nine hours last night and there's only so much Harry Potter bullshit one man can take. Mortimer counters that Glendower is usually twice as obnoxious and is actually holding himself back out of respect for Hotspur. Worcester chimes in to tell Hotspur to chill out once in a while. Hotspur is humbled, and Glendower re-enters with everyone's wives.
A few brief notes:
- Owen Glendower is the father of Lord Mortimer's wife.
- Lord Mortimer's wife speaks no English, only Welsh.
- Lort Mortimer himself speaks no Welsh, only English.
- Hotspur's wife is called Lady Percy in this scene because otherwise the reader would get her confused with all the other ladies runnin' around.
Anyway, Lord Mortimer's wife (Lady Mortimer? Can I call her that? Sure, why not.) is quite distressed that he's leaving, and offers to go with him and be a soldier, too. With Glendower acting as translator, Mortimer and his lady tell each other very prettily how much in love they are. One gets the impression that this will be super adorbs if it appears on screen.
Lady Mortimer tells Lord Mortimer to lay his head in her lap while she sings him a song. D'aww. Hotspur thinks this is a fantastic idea and bids Lady Percy do the same for him. She's like, no. Hotspur refuses to sit still and shut up. They bicker.
Lady Percy: Now God help thee!
Hotspur: To the Welsh lady's bed.
Lady Percy: What's that?
Hotspur: Peace! She sings.
Oh you wacky kids.
Hotspur asks his wife to sing for him again, she refuses again, and all the men go off to the wars.
---
ACT III, SCENE II
London. The palace.
We already know how The Hollow Crown is going to handle this scene thanks to this handy dandy preview, but what the hell, let's recap it anyway.
King Henry IV, Prince Hal, and a shitload of nobles are all hanging around court. The King asks the nobles to gtfo so he can talk to his son alone. This is what he has to say:
I know not whether God will have it so
For some displeasing service I have done,
That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
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?
Essentially, the King believes that Prince Hal was sent by God as punishment. Harsh, bro. What does the prince have to say for himself?
Prince: So please your Majesty, I would I could
Quit all offenses with as clear excuse
As well as I am doubtless I can purge
Myself of many I am charged withal.
Yet such extenuation let me beg
As, in reproof of many tales devised,
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear
By smiling pick thanks and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true wherein my youth
Hath faulty wand'red and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.
Translation: "Okay, yeah, you got me, but only like 50% of those accusations are true."
The King is not pleased by this response.
King: God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court and princes of my blood.
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruined, and the soul of every man
Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
Trans.: Every drunk in every tavern, inn, and whorehouse thinks they're BFF with Prince Hal. This is not a good, since there is a fine line between "one of us" and "no better than us," and ending up on the latter side of that distinction makes it damn hard to get people to respect you. Also, everyone at court, aka the people the Prince is actually going to have to work with someday, have no idea who he is beyond "drunken frat boy" and have already made up their minds that he's gonna be a shitty king.
The King goes on.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession
And left me in reputeless bahishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But, like a comet, I was wond'red 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 salutations from their mouths
Even in the presence of the crownèd King.
Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen but wond'red at; and so my state,
Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
And won by rareness such solemnity.
Trans.: The King did the exact opposite of Prince Hal when he was young, and look where it got him! The flippin' crown.
Furthermore, sayeth the King:
The skipping King, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state;
Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools;
Had his great name profanèd with their scorns
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative;
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoffed himself to popularity;
That, being daily swallowed by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
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 sunlike majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes;
But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,
Slept in his face, and rend'red such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.
Trans.: King Richard II was more concerned with looking pretty and having fun than with acting like a king, and look where it got him. Hella dead, and also no friends.
You'd think the King would have to breathe at some point. You'd be wrong.
And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;
For thou has lost thy princely privilege
With vile participation. Not an eye
But is aweary of thy common sight,
Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more;
Which now doth that I would not have it do--
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
Trans.: "Oh hey, you know who reminds me of Richard II? You."
What could Prince Hal possibly say in his defense after no less than sixty-three lines of scolding?
Prince: I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
Be more myself.
...
...Yeah, no.
The King gears himself up for another ripping speech.
King: For all the world,
As thou art to his hour was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh;
And even as I was then is Percy now.
Now, by my scepter, and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to the state
Than thou the shadow of succession;
For of no right, nor color like to right,
He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
Turns head against the lion's armèd 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.
Trans.: "WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE HOTSPUR?!"
What never-dying honor hath he got
Against renownèd Douglas! whose high deeds,
Whose hot incursions and great name in arms
Holds from all soldiers chief majority
And military title capital
Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,
This infant warrior, in his enterprises
Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once,
Enlargèd him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deep defiance up
And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer
Capitulate against us and are up.
Trans.: "Hotspur is pretty much the best fighter ever and has united Northumberland, the Archbishop of York, Douglas, and Mortimer against us. We are completely fucked."
But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
Which art my nearest and dearest enemy?
That thou art like enough, through vassal fear,
Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
To fight against me under Percy's pay,
To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,
To show how much thou art degenerate.
Trans.: "Why am I even telling you this? You'll probably turn around and go join Hotspur. Lick his boots, even."
...fucking ouch, man.
This last accusation/insult seems to be the last straw for Prince Hal, and he's galvanized to respond more passionately.
Prince: Do not think so, you shall not find it so.
And God forgive them that so much have swayed
Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me.
I will redeem all this on Percy's head
And, in the closing of some glorious day,
Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favors 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 honor and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praisèd knight,
And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
For every honor sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! For the time will come
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call him to so strict account
That he shall render every glory up,
Yeah, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This in the name of God I promise here;
The which if he be pleased I shall perform,
I do beseech your Majesty may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance.
If not, the end of life cancels all bands,
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
Trans.: "I WILL MAKE YOU PROUD OR DIE TRYING."
Seriously, though, this scene is heartbreaking. Prince Hal, you tragic little fuckup.
The King is finally satisfied that his message got through to his son, and he makes plans for battle. Next Wednesday, he's sending Prince Hal to war. The King himself will be there on Thursday. Make him proud, kid.
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ACT III, SCENE III
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
Falstaff is concerned that he's losing weight due to stress. He spends half a page comparing Bardolph's face to various kinds of fire, which I think is supposed to be an insult. Bardolphs response is as follows.
Bardolph: 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
My footnotes assure me that this is a proverbial retort, and not in fact a come-on.
Falstaff is also pretty sure he's been pickpocketed. He complains to the inn's hostess, who retorts that he owes her far more than he's lost. Falstaff says one of the items stolen from him was his grandfather's seal ring, worth at least forty mark! But according to the hostess, the prince said the ring was only copper. Falstaff calls the prince a liar and says he'd hit him with a big stick if he were here. Naturally, this is the prince's cue to enter.
Falstaff tells the prince about the pickpocketing. The prince repeats that the ring is not worth nearly as much as Falstaff believes. The hostess chimes in and tells the prince of Falstaff's threat to hit him for saying so. This sets off another argument between the hostess and Falstaff, with him calling her several hundred different kinds of unfaithful.
Falstaff: Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her.
Hostess: Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!
Prince: Thou say'st true, hostess, and he slanders thee most grossly.
Oh, Hal.
They bring the argument back around to its point, that being Falstaff's threat to hit the prince.
Falstaff: Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
Prince: I say 'tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now?
Falstaff: Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare; but as thou art Prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp.
Prince: And why not as the lion?
Falstaff: The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, and I do, I pray God my girdle break.
Oof. Coming right after his father's lecture, that's gotta sting. Prince Hal flips it, just a little, calling Falstaff a cowardly liar and demanding to know how he can behave so shamelessly. Falstaff says... something I can't quite parse.
Falstaff: Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?
Prince Hal confesses, though whether because he actually did it or because he wants to shut Falstaff up, I'm not sure.
Falstaff forgives all, and asks about the robbery. Prince Hal informs him that the money has been repaid. He then asks Bardolph and Peto to bear letters to his allies, and Falstaff to meet him tomorrow at two o'clock in the Temple Hall. Storm's a-comin'.
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HENRY IV: PART I, ACT I
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT II
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT III
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT IV
HENRY IV: PART I, ACT V