The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: e2v - Histories, p. 54

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The First Part of King Henry the Fourth.
Scæna Secunda. [Act 2, Scene 2] Enter Prince, Poynes, and Peto. Poines.

Come shelter, shelter, I haue remoued Falstafs

[720]

Horse, and he frets like a gum'd Veluet.

Prin.

Stand close.

Enter Falstaffe. Fal.

Poines, Poines, and be hang'd Poines.

Prin.

Peace ye fat‑kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling

dost thou keepe.

Fal.
[725]

What Poines. Hal?

Prin.

He is walk'd vp to the top of the hill, Ile go seek

him.

Fal.

I am accurst to rob in that Theefe company: that

Rascall hath remoued my Horse, and tied him I know not

[730]

where. If I trauell but foure foot by the squire further a

foote, I shall breake my winde. Well, I doubt not but

to dye a faire death for all this, if I scape hanging for kil­

ling that Rogue, I haue forsworne his company hourely

any time this two and twenty yeare, & yet I am bewitcht

[735]

with the Rogues company. If the Rascall haue not giuen

me medicines to make me loue him, Ile be hang'd; it could

not be else: I haue drunke Medicines. Poines, Hal, a

Plague vpon you both. Bardolph, Peto: Ile starue ere I

rob a foote further. And 'twere not as good a deede as to

[740]

drinke, to turne True‑man, and to leaue these Rogues, I

am the veriest Varlet that euer chewed with a Tooth.

Eight yards of vneuen ground, is threescore & ten miles

afoot with me: and the stony‑hearted Villaines knowe it

well enough, A plague vpon't, when Theeues cannot be

[745]

true one to another.

They Whistle.

Whew: a plague light vpon you all. Giue my Horse you

Rogues: giue me my Horse, and be hang'd.

Prin.

Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare

close to the ground, and list if thou can heare the tread of

[750]

Trauellers.

Fal.

Haue you any Leauers to lift me vp again being

downe? Ile not beare mine owne flesh so far afoot again,

for all the coine in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague

meane ye to colt me thus?

Prin.
[755]

Thou ly'st, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted.

Fal.

I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,

good Kings sonne.

Prin.

Out you Rogue, shall I be your Ostler?

Fal.

Go hang thy selfe in thine owne heire‑apparant‑

[760]

Garters: If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I haue not

Ballads made on all, snd sung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of

Sacke be my poyson: when a iest is so forward, & a foote

too, I hate it.

Enter Gads‑hill. Gad.

Stand.

Fal.
[765]

So I do against my will.

Poin.

O 'tis our Setter, I know his voyce:

Bardolfe, what newes?

Bar.

Case ye, case ye; on with your Vizards, there's

mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going

[770]

to the Kings Exchequer.

Fal.

You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tauern.

Gad.

There's enough to make vs all.

Fal.

To he be hang'd.

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Right Column


Prin.

You foure shall front them in the narrow Lane:

[775]

Ned and I, will walke lower; if they scape from your en­

counter, then they light on vs.

Peto.

But how many be of them?

Gad.

Some eight or ten.

Fal.

Will they not rob vs?

Prin.
[780]

What, a Coward Sir Iohn Paunch?

Fal.

Indeed I am not Iohn of Gaunt your Grandfather;

but yet no Coward, Hal.

Prin.

Wee'l leaue that to the proofe.

Poin.

Sirra Iacke, thy horse stands behinde the hedg,

[785]

when tho u need'st him, there thou shalt finde him. Fare­

well, and stand fast.

Fal.

Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd.

Prin.

Ned, where are our disguises?

Poin.

Heere hard by: Stand close.

Fal.
[790]

Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I:

euery man to his businesse.

Enter Trauellers. Tra.

Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horses

downe the hill: Wee'l walke a‑foot a while, and ease our

Legges.

Theeues.
[795]

Stay.

Tra.

Iesu blesse vs.

Fal.

Strike: down with them, cut the villains throats;

a whorson Caterpillars: Bacon‑fed Knaues, they hate vs

youth; downe with them, fleece them.

Tra.
[800]

O, we are vndone, both we and ours for euer.

Fal.

Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No

ye Fat Chuffes, I would your store were heere. On Ba­

cons, on, what ye knaues? Yong men must liue, you are

Grand Iurers, are ye? Wee'l iure ye ifaith.

Heere they rob them, and binde them. Enter the Prince and Poines. Prin.
[805]

The Theeues haue bound the True‑men: Now

could thou and I rob the Theeues, and go merily to Lon­

don, it would be argument for a Weeke, Laughter for a

Moneth, and a good iest for euer.

Poynes.

Stand close, I heare them comming.

Enter Theeues againe. Fal.
[810]

Come my Masters, let vs share, and then to horsse

before day: and the Prince and Poynes bee not two ar­

rand Cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no moe

valour in that Poynes, than in a wilde Ducke.

Prin.

Your money.

Poi n.
[815]

Villaines.

As they are sharing, the Prince and Poynes set upon them. They all run away, leauing the booty behind them. Prince.

Got with much ease. Now merrily to Horse:

The Theeues are scattred, and possest with fear so strong­

ly, that they dare not meet each other: each takes his fel­

low for an Officer. Away good Ned, Falstaffe sweates to

[820]

death, and Lards the leane earth as he walkes along: wer't

not for laughing, I should pitty him.

Poin.

How the Rogue roar'd.

Exeunt.
Scœna Tertia. [Act 2, Scene 3] Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.

But for mine owne part, my Lord, I could bee well contented to

be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.

He

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Scœna Tertia. [Act 2, Scene 3] Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.

But for mine owne part, my Lord, I could bee well contented to

be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.

[825]

He could be contented: Why is he not then? in respect of

the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues

his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me

see some more. The purpose you vndertake is dangerous.

Why that's certaine: 'Tis dangerous to take a Colde, to

[830]

sleepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of

this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety. The purpose you vndertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue na­ med vncertaine, the Time it selfe vnsorted, and your whole Plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an Opposition.

[835]

Say you so, say you so: I say vnto you againe, you are a

shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lacke‑

braine is this? I protest, our plot is as good a plot as euer

was laid; our Friend true and constant: A good Plotte,

good Friends, and full of expectation: An excellent plot,

[840]

very good Friends. What a Frosty‑spirited rogue is this?

Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the

generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now

by this Rascall, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.

Is there not my Father, my Vnckle, and my Selfe, Lord

[845]

Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of Yorke, and Owen Glendour?

Is there not besides, the Dowglas? Haue I not all their let­

ters, to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Mo­

neth? and are they not some of them set forward already?

What a Pagan Rascall is this? An Infidell. Ha, you shall

[850]

see now in very sincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he

to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could

diuide my selfe, and go to buffets, for mouing such a dish

of skim'd Milk with so honourable an Action. Hang him,

let him tell the King we are prepared. I will set forwards,

[855]

to night.

Enter his Lady.

How now Kate, I must leaue you within these two hours.

La. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone ? For what offence haue I this fortnight bin A banish'd woman from my Harries bed?
[860]
Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee Thy stomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe ? Why dost thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth? And start so often when thou sitt'st alone? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy vcheekes?
[865]
And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee, To thicke‑ey'd musing, and curst melancholly ? In my faint‑slumbers, I by thee haue watcht, And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres: Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed,
[870]
Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents, Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets, Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin, Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine,
[875]
And all the current of a headdy fight. Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre, And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe, That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow, Like bubbles in a late‑disturbed Streame;
[880]
And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd, Such as we see when men restraine their breath On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these? Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand, And I must know it: else he loues me not.
Hot.
[885]
What ho; Is Gilliams with the Packet gone?
Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone. Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses frōfrom the Sheriffe? Ser. One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now. Hot. What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not. Ser.
[890]

It is my Lord.

Hot.

That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will

backe him straight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth

into the Parke.

La.

But heare you, my Lord.

Hot.
[895]

What say'st thou my Lady?

La.

What is it carries you away?

Hot.

Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse.

La.

Out you mad‑headed Ape, a Weazell hath not

such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile

[900]

know your businesse Harry, that I will. I feare my Bro­

ther Mortimer doth stirre about his Title, and hath sent

for you to line his enterprize. But if you go⸺

Hot.

So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue.

La.

Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me dirctly

[905]

vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake

thy little finger Harry, if thou wilt not tel me true.

Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not, I care not for thee Kate: this is no world To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.
[910]
We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes, And passe them currant too. Gods me, my horse. What say'st thou Kate? what wold'st thou haue with me?
La. Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed? Well, do not then. For since you loue me not,
[915]
I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me? Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest or no.
Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride? And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate,
[920]
I must not haue you henceforth, question me, Whether I go: nor reason whereabout. Whether I must, I must: and to conclude, This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle Kate. I know you wise, but yet no further wise
[925]
Then Harry Percies wife. Constant you are, But yet a woman: and for secrecie, An ink mark follows the end of this line. No Lady closer. For I will beleeue Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know, And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate.
La.
[930]

How so farre?

Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate, Whither I go, thither shall you go too: To day will I set forth, to morrow you. Will his content you Kate? La.
[935]
It must of force.
Exeunt
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="3">
   <head rend="italic center">Scœna Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <p rend="italic" n="823">But for mine owne part, my Lord, I could bee well contented to
      <lb n="824"/>be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.</p>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0377-0.jpg" n="55"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <p n="825">He could be contented: Why is he not then? in respect of
      <lb n="826"/>the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues
      <lb n="827"/>his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me
      <lb n="828"/>see some more.<hi rend="italic">The purpose you vndertake is dangerous.</hi>
         
      <lb n="829"/>Why that's certaine: 'Tis dangerous to take a Colde, to
      <lb n="830"/>sleepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of
      <lb n="831"/>this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety.<hi rend="italic">The
      <lb n="832"/>purpose you vndertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue na­
      <lb n="833"/>med vncertaine, the Time it selfe vnsorted, and your whole
      <lb n="834"/>Plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an Opposition.</hi>
         
      <lb n="835"/>Say you so, say you so: I say vnto you againe, you are a
      <lb n="836"/>shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lacke‑
      <lb n="837"/>braine is this? I protest, our plot is as good a plot as euer
      <lb n="838"/>was laid; our Friend true and constant: A good Plotte,
      <lb n="839"/>good Friends, and full of expectation: An excellent plot,
      <lb n="840"/>very good Friends. What a Frosty‑spirited rogue is this?
      <lb n="841"/>Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the
      <lb n="842"/>generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now
      <lb n="843"/>by this Rascall, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.
      <lb n="844"/>Is there not my Father, my Vnckle, and my Selfe, Lord
      <lb n="845"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Edmund Mortimer,</hi>my Lord of<hi rend="italic">Yorke</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Owen Glendour</hi>?
      <lb n="846"/>Is there not besides, the<hi rend="italic">Dowglas</hi>? Haue I not all their let­
      <lb n="847"/>ters, to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Mo­
      <lb n="848"/>neth? and are they not some of them set forward already?
      <lb n="849"/>What a Pagan Rascall is this? An Infidell. Ha, you shall
      <lb n="850"/>see now in very sincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he
      <lb n="851"/>to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could
      <lb n="852"/>diuide my selfe, and go to buffets, for mouing such a dish
      <lb n="853"/>of skim'd Milk with so honourable an Action. Hang him,
      <lb n="854"/>let him tell the King we are prepared. I will set forwards,
      <lb n="855"/>to night.</p>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter his Lady.</stage>
      <p n="856">How now Kate, I must leaue you within these two hours.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="857">O my good Lord, why are you thus alone<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="858">For what offence haue I this fortnight bin</l>
      <l n="859">A banish'd woman from my<hi rend="italic">Harries</hi>bed?</l>
      <l n="860">Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee</l>
      <l n="861">Thy stomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="862">Why dost thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?</l>
      <l n="863">And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?</l>
      <l n="864">Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy vcheekes?</l>
      <l n="865">And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee,</l>
      <l n="866">To thicke‑ey'd musing, and curst melancholly<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="867">In my faint‑slumbers, I by thee haue watcht,</l>
      <l n="868">And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres:</l>
      <l n="869">Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed,</l>
      <l n="870">Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd</l>
      <l n="871">Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents,</l>
      <l n="872">Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets,</l>
      <l n="873">Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin,</l>
      <l n="874">Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine,</l>
      <l n="875">And all the current of a headdy fight.</l>
      <l n="876">Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre,</l>
      <l n="877">And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe,</l>
      <l n="878">That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow,</l>
      <l n="879">Like bubbles in a late‑disturbed Streame;</l>
      <l n="880">And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd,</l>
      <l n="881">Such as we see when men restraine their breath</l>
      <l n="882">On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these?</l>
      <l n="883">Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand,</l>
      <l n="884">And I must know it: else he loues me not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="885">What ho; Is<hi rend="italic">Gilliams</hi>with the Packet gone?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <l n="886">He is my Lord, an houre agone.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="887">Hath<hi rend="italic">Butler</hi>brought those horses<choice>
            <abbr>frō</abbr>
            <expan>from</expan>
         </choice>the Sheriffe?</l>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <l n="888">One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="889">What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="890">It is my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <p n="891">That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will
      <lb n="892"/>backe him straight.<hi rend="italic">Esperance</hi>, bid<hi rend="italic">Butler</hi>lead him forth
      <lb n="893"/>into the Parke.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <p n="894">But heare you, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <p n="895">What say'st thou my Lady?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <p n="896">What is it carries you away?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <p n="897">Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <p n="898">Out you mad‑headed Ape, a Weazell hath not
      <lb n="899"/>such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile
      <lb n="900"/>know your businesse<hi rend="italic">Harry</hi>, that I will. I feare my Bro­
      <lb n="901"/>ther<hi rend="italic">Mortimer</hi>doth stirre about his Title, and hath sent
      <lb n="902"/>for you to line his enterprize. But if you go⸺</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <p n="903">So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <p n="904">Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me dirctly
      <lb n="905"/>vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake
      <lb n="906"/>thy little finger<hi rend="italic">Harry</hi>, if thou wilt not tel me true.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="907">Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not,</l>
      <l n="908">I care not for thee<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>: this is no world</l>
      <l n="909">To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.</l>
      <l n="910">We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes,</l>
      <l n="911">And passe them currant too. Gods me, my horse.</l>
      <l n="912">What say'st thou<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>? what wold'st thou haue with me?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="913">Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed?</l>
      <l n="914">Well, do not then. For since you loue me not,</l>
      <l n="915">I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me?</l>
      <l n="916">Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest or no.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="917">Come, wilt thou see me ride?</l>
      <l n="918">And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare</l>
      <l n="919">I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>,</l>
      <l n="920">I must not haue you henceforth, question me,</l>
      <l n="921">Whether I go: nor reason whereabout.</l>
      <l n="922">Whether I must, I must: and to conclude,</l>
      <l n="923">This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>.</l>
      <l n="924">I know you wise, but yet no further wise</l>
      <l n="925">Then<hi rend="italic">Harry Percies</hi>wife. Constant you are,</l>
      <l n="926">But yet a woman: and for secrecie,<note type="physical" resp="#ES">An ink mark follows the end of this line.</note>
      </l>
      <l n="927">No Lady closer. For I will beleeue</l>
      <l n="928">Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know,</l>
      <l n="929">And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <p n="930">How so farre?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-hot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hot.</speaker>
      <l n="931">Not an inch further. But harke you<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>,</l>
      <l n="932">Whither I go, thither shall you go too:</l>
      <l n="933">To day will I set forth, to morrow you.</l>
      <l n="934">Will his content you<hi rend="italic">Kate</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-1h4-lpe">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="935">It must of force.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt</stage>
</div>

        
        

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