PERCY                        My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince

And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.

BOLINGBROKE          And what said the gallant?

PERCY                        His answer was he would unto the stews

And from the common’st creature pluck a glove

And wear it as a favour, and with that

He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.

BOLINGBROKE          As dissolute as desperate; yet through both

I see some sparks of better hope which elder years

May happily bring forth. But who comes here?     (5.3.13-22)

So has Percy also been living it up in London, at least briefly? (The scene might be set in Windsor, although it doesn’t matter; that’s where the historical events, such as they are, took place.) I quite like the idea of him rubbishing the nightlife, tame in comparison with Newcastle. But that it’s Percy who’s seen the prince more recently than his father both points up the parallel between Hal and Hotspur that will become so important, and establishes that Hal and his father are, if not quite estranged, then at least distant. A good character note for future Hotspur too; he assumes that Hal, like him, will be keenly interested in the tournament at Oxford, and the opportunities for the performance of martial skill and chivalric honour that it will afford. Bolingbroke is more pessimistic, and cynical: what said the gallant? Hal’s reply was scurrilous: he would unto the stews and from the common’st creature pluck a glove to wear as a favour. (Not more bloody gloves, the audience would be forgiven for crying.) This is his low opinion of tournaments and honour, apparently, mocking the chivalric custom of wearing a favour such as a glove in one’s helmet: he’ll steal a glove from the lousiest whore he can find in one of the local brothels—but he’ll still unhorse, triumph over the lustiest, most energetic and able opponent in the joust. One can imagine obscene gestures accompanying this: to unhorse the lustiest challenger probably has sexual implications, to do with mounting and dismounting and putting down and impotence, and challenge often means to make a sexual advance. Tut tut, replies Bolingbroke, as dissolute as desperate, but it’s hardly a furious moral condemnation; even a touch of pride, perhaps, in such spirit and such a fitting retort? (Percy is a bit too keen, a bit too idealistic.) And then another set-up: yet through both, that is both Hal’s dissolution, his current degenerate life-style, and his desperation, his recklessness, not only in the way that he’s living but the way in which he’s cheerfully mocked everything that Percy holds dear)—I see some sparks of better hope which elder years may happily bring forth. There’s spirit in him! He’s not without promise! It may all still turn out for the best. (Hotspur, of course, will not see elder years, and will die a traitor to his king.)

But who comes here?