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: g6r - Histories, p. 85

Left Column


The seco nd Part of King Henry the Fourth. Fal.

No, I thinke thou art not: I thinke thou art quit

for that. Marry, there is another Indictment vpon thee,

for suffering flesh to bee eaten in thy house, contrary to

[1340]

the Law, for the which I thinke thou wilt howle.

Host.

All Victuallers doe so: What is a Ioynt of

Mutton, or two, in a whole Lent ?

Prince.

You, Gentlewoman.

Dol.

What sayes your Grace?

Falst.
[1345]

His Grace sayes that, which his flesh rebells

against.

Host.

Who knocks so lowd at doore? Looke to the

doore there, Francis?

Enter Peto. Prince.

Peto, how now? what newes?

Peto.
[1350]
The King, your Father, is at Westminster, And there are twentie weake and wearied Postes, Come from the North: and as I came along, I met, and ouer‑tooke a dozen Captaines, Bare‑headed, sweating, knocking at the Tauernes,
[1355]
And asking euery one for Sir Iohn Falstaffe.
Prince. By Heauen ( Poines) I feele me much to blame, So idly to prophane the precious time, When Tempest of Commotion, like the South, Borne with black Vapour, doth begin to melt.
[1360]
And drop vpon our bare vnarmed heads. Giue me my Sword, and Cloake: Falstaffe, good night.
Exit. Falst.

Now comes in the sweetest Morsell of the

night, and wee must hence, and leaue it vnpickt. More

[1365]

knocking at the doore? How now? what's the mat­

ter?

Bard. You must away to Court, Sir, presently, A dozen Captaines stay at doore for you. Falst.

Pay the Musitians, Sirrha: farewell Hostesse,

[1370]

farewell Dol. You see (my good Wenches) how men of

Merit are sought after: the vndeseruer may sleepe, when

the man of Action is call'd on. Farewell good Wenches:

if I be not sent away poste, I will see you againe, ere I

goe.

Dol.
[1375]

I cannot speake: if my heart bee not readie

to burst‑‑‑ Well (sweete Iacke) haue a care of thy

selfe.

Falst.

Farewell, farewell.

Exit. Host.

Well, fare thee well: I haue knowne thee

[1380]

these twentie nine yeeres, come Pescod‑time: but an

honester, and truer‑hearted man‑‑‑‑ Well, fare thee

well.

Bard.

Mistris Teare‑sheet.

Host.

What's the matter?

Bard.
[1385]

Bid Mistris Teare‑sheet come to my Master.

Host.

Oh runne Dol, runne: runne, good Dol.

Exeunt.
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. [Act 3, Scene 1] Enter the King, with a Page. King. Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick: But ere they come, bid them ore‑reade these Letters, And well consider of them: make good speed. Exit.

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Right Column


[1390]
How many thousand of my poorest Subiects Are at this howre asleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe, Natures soft Nurse, how haue I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eye‑lids downe, And steepe my Sences in Forgetfulnesse?
[1395]
Why rather (Sleepe) lyest thou in smoakie Cribs, Vpon vneasie Pallads stretching thee, And huisht with bussing Night, flyes to thy slumber, Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great? Vnder the Canopies of costly State,
[1400]
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melodie? O thou dull God, why lyest thou with the vilde, In loathsome beds, and leau'st the Kingly Couch, A Watch‑case, or a common Larum‑Bell? Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Mast,
[1405]
Seale vp the Ship‑boyes Eyes, and rock his Braines, In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge, And in the visitation of the Windes, Who take the Russian Billowes by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
[1410]
With deaff'ning Clamors in the slipp'ry Clouds, That with the hurley, Death it selfe awakes? Canst thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy Repose To the wet Sea‑Boy, in an houre so rude: And in the calmest, and most stillest Night,
[1415]
With all appliances, and meanes to boote, Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe, Vneasie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.
Enter Warwicke and Surrey. War. Many good‑morrowes to your Maiestie. King. Is it good‑morrow, Lords? War.
[1420]
'Tis One a Clock, and past.
King. Why then good‑morrow to you all (my Lords:) Haue you read o're the Letters that I sent you ? War. We haue (my Liege.) King. Then you perceiue the Body of our Kingdome,
[1425]
How foule it is: what ranke Diseases grow, And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?
War. It is but as a Body, yet distemper'd, Which to his former strength may be restor'd, With good aduice, and little Medicine:
[1430]
My Lord Northumberland will soone be cool'd.
King. Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate, And see the reuolution of the Times Make Mountaines leuell, and the Continent (Wearie of solide firmenesse) melt it selfe
[1435]
Into the Sea: and other Times, to see The beachie Girdle of the Ocean Too wide for Neptunes hippes; how Chances mocks And Changes fill the Cuppe of Alteration With diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,
[1440]
Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends, Did feast together; and in two yeeres after, Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres since, This Percie was the man, neerest my Soule, Who, like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affaires,
[1445]
And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot: Yea, for my sake, euen to the eyes of Richard Gaue him defiance. But which of you was by (You Cousin Neuil, as I may remember) When Richard, with his Eye, brim‑full of Teares,
[1450]
(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland) Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:) Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the which My

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Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. [Act 3, Scene 1] Enter the King, with a Page. King. Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick: But ere they come, bid them ore‑reade these Letters, And well consider of them: make good speed. Exit.
[1390]
How many thousand of my poorest Subiects Are at this howre asleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe, Natures soft Nurse, how haue I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eye‑lids downe, And steepe my Sences in Forgetfulnesse?
[1395]
Why rather (Sleepe) lyest thou in smoakie Cribs, Vpon vneasie Pallads stretching thee, And huisht with bussing Night, flyes to thy slumber, Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great? Vnder the Canopies of costly State,
[1400]
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melodie? O thou dull God, why lyest thou with the vilde, In loathsome beds, and leau'st the Kingly Couch, A Watch‑case, or a common Larum‑Bell? Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Mast,
[1405]
Seale vp the Ship‑boyes Eyes, and rock his Braines, In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge, And in the visitation of the Windes, Who take the Russian Billowes by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
[1410]
With deaff'ning Clamors in the slipp'ry Clouds, That with the hurley, Death it selfe awakes? Canst thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy Repose To the wet Sea‑Boy, in an houre so rude: And in the calmest, and most stillest Night,
[1415]
With all appliances, and meanes to boote, Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe, Vneasie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.
Enter Warwicke and Surrey. War. Many good‑morrowes to your Maiestie. King. Is it good‑morrow, Lords? War.
[1420]
'Tis One a Clock, and past.
King. Why then good‑morrow to you all (my Lords:) Haue you read o're the Letters that I sent you ? War. We haue (my Liege.) King. Then you perceiue the Body of our Kingdome,
[1425]
How foule it is: what ranke Diseases grow, And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?
War. It is but as a Body, yet distemper'd, Which to his former strength may be restor'd, With good aduice, and little Medicine:
[1430]
My Lord Northumberland will soone be cool'd.
King. Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate, And see the reuolution of the Times Make Mountaines leuell, and the Continent (Wearie of solide firmenesse) melt it selfe
[1435]
Into the Sea: and other Times, to see The beachie Girdle of the Ocean Too wide for Neptunes hippes; how Chances mocks And Changes fill the Cuppe of Alteration With diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,
[1440]
Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends, Did feast together; and in two yeeres after, Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres since, This Percie was the man, neerest my Soule, Who, like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affaires,
[1445]
And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot: Yea, for my sake, euen to the eyes of Richard Gaue him defiance. But which of you was by (You Cousin Neuil, as I may remember) When Richard, with his Eye, brim‑full of Teares,
[1450]
(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland) Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:) Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the which My Cousin Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne: (Though then, Heaven knowes, I had no such intent,
[1455]
But that necessitie so bowed the State, That Land Greatnesse were compelled to kisse:) The Time shall come (thus did hee follow it) The Time will come, that foule Sinne gathering head, Shall breake into Corruption: so went on,
[1460]
For telling this same Times Condition, And the diuision of our Amitie.
War. There is a Historie in all mens Lives, Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd: The which obseru'd, a man may prophecie
[1465]
With a neere ayme, of the maine chance of things, As yet not come to Life, which in their Seedes And weake beginnings lye entreasured: Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time; And by the necessarie forme of this,
[1470]
King Richard might create a perfect guesse, That great Northumberland, then false to him, Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falsenesse, Which should not finde a ground to roote upon, Vnlesse on you.
King.
[1475]
Are these things then Necessities? Then let us meete them like Necessities; And that same word, euen now cryes out on vs: They say, the Bishop and Northumberland Are fiftie thousand strong.
War.
[1480]
It cannot be (my Lord:) Rumor doth double, like the Voice, and Eccho, The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace To goe to bed, upon my Life (my Lord) The Pow'rs that you alreadie have sent forth,
[1485]
Shall bring this Prize in very easily. To comfort you the more, I haue receiu'd A certain instance, that Glendour is dead. Your Maiestie hath beene this fort‑night ill, And these unseason'd howres perforce must adde
[1490]
Vnto your Sicknesse.
King. I will take your counsaile: And were these inward Warres once out of hand, Wee would (deare Lords) unto the Holy‑Land. Exeunt.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="1">
   <head rend="italic center">Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the King, with a Page.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1387">Goe, call the Earles of Surrey, and of Warwick:</l>
      <l n="1388">But ere they come, bid them ore‑reade these Letters,</l>
      <l n="1389">And well consider of them: make good speed.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1390">How many thousand of my poorest Subiects</l>
      <l n="1391">Are at this howre asleepe? O Sleepe, O gentle Sleepe,</l>
      <l n="1392">Natures soft Nurse, how haue I frighted thee,</l>
      <l n="1393">That thou no more wilt weigh my eye‑lids downe,</l>
      <l n="1394">And steepe my Sences in Forgetfulnesse?</l>
      <l n="1395">Why rather (Sleepe) lyest thou in smoakie Cribs,</l>
      <l n="1396">Vpon vneasie Pallads stretching thee,</l>
      <l n="1397">And huisht with bussing Night, flyes to thy slumber,</l>
      <l n="1398">Then in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great?</l>
      <l n="1399">Vnder the Canopies of costly State,</l>
      <l n="1400">And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melodie?</l>
      <l n="1401">O thou dull God, why lyest thou with the vilde,</l>
      <l n="1402">In loathsome beds, and leau'st the Kingly Couch,</l>
      <l n="1403">A Watch‑case, or a common Larum‑Bell?</l>
      <l n="1404">Wilt thou, vpon the high and giddie Mast,</l>
      <l n="1405">Seale vp the Ship‑boyes Eyes, and rock his Braines,</l>
      <l n="1406">In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge,</l>
      <l n="1407">And in the visitation of the Windes,</l>
      <l n="1408">Who take the Russian Billowes by the top,</l>
      <l n="1409">Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them</l>
      <l n="1410">With deaff'ning Clamors in the slipp'ry Clouds,</l>
      <l n="1411">That with the hurley, Death it selfe awakes?</l>
      <l n="1412">Canst thou (O partiall Sleepe) giue thy Repose</l>
      <l n="1413">To the wet Sea‑Boy, in an houre so rude:</l>
      <l n="1414">And in the calmest, and most stillest Night,</l>
      <l n="1415">With all appliances, and meanes to boote,</l>
      <l n="1416">Deny it to a King? Then happy Lowe, lye downe,</l>
      <l n="1417">Vneasie lyes the Head, that weares a Crowne.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Warwicke and Surrey.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1418">Many good‑morrowes to your Maiestie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1419">Is it good‑morrow, Lords?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1420">'Tis One a Clock, and past.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1421">Why then good‑morrow to you all (my Lords:)</l>
      <l n="1422">Haue you read o're the Letters that I sent you<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1423">We haue (my Liege.)</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1424">Then you perceiue the Body of our Kingdome,</l>
      <l n="1425">How foule it is: what ranke Diseases grow,</l>
      <l n="1426">And with what danger, neere the Heart of it?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1427">It is but as a Body, yet distemper'd,</l>
      <l n="1428">Which to his former strength may be restor'd,</l>
      <l n="1429">With good aduice, and little Medicine:</l>
      <l n="1430">My Lord<hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>will soone be cool'd.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1431">Oh Heauen, that one might read the Book of Fate,</l>
      <l n="1432">And see the reuolution of the Times</l>
      <l n="1433">Make Mountaines leuell, and the Continent</l>
      <l n="1434">(Wearie of solide firmenesse) melt it selfe</l>
      <l n="1435">Into the Sea: and other Times, to see</l>
      <l n="1436">The beachie Girdle of the Ocean</l>
      <l n="1437">Too wide for<hi rend="italic">Neptunes</hi>hippes; how Chances mocks</l>
      <l n="1438">And Changes fill the Cuppe of Alteration</l>
      <l n="1439">With diuers Liquors. 'Tis not tenne yeeres gone,</l>
      <l n="1440">Since<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>, great friends,</l>
      <l n="1441">Did feast together; and in two yeeres after,</l>
      <l n="1442">Were they at Warres. It is but eight yeeres since,</l>
      <l n="1443">This<hi rend="italic">Percie</hi>was the man, neerest my Soule,</l>
      <l n="1444">Who, like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affaires,</l>
      <l n="1445">And layd his Loue and Life vnder my foot:</l>
      <l n="1446">Yea, for my sake, euen to the eyes of<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="1447">Gaue him defiance. But which of you was by</l>
      <l n="1448">(You Cousin<hi rend="italic">Neuil</hi>, as I may remember)</l>
      <l n="1449">When<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>, with his Eye, brim‑full of Teares,</l>
      <l n="1450">(Then check'd, and rated by<hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>)</l>
      <l n="1451">Did speake these words (now prou'd a Prophecie:)</l>
      <l n="1452">
         <hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>, thou Ladder, by the which</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0408-0.jpg" n="86"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1453">My Cousin<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>ascends my Throne:</l>
      <l n="1454">(Though then, Heaven knowes, I had no such intent,</l>
      <l n="1455">But that necessitie so bowed the State,</l>
      <l n="1456">That Land Greatnesse were compelled to kisse:)</l>
      <l n="1457">The Time shall come (thus did hee follow it)</l>
      <l n="1458">The Time will come, that foule Sinne gathering head,</l>
      <l n="1459">Shall breake into Corruption: so went on,</l>
      <l n="1460">For telling this same Times Condition,</l>
      <l n="1461">And the diuision of our Amitie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1462">There is a Historie in all mens Lives,</l>
      <l n="1463">Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd:</l>
      <l n="1464">The which obseru'd, a man may prophecie</l>
      <l n="1465">With a neere ayme, of the maine chance of things,</l>
      <l n="1466">As yet not come to Life, which in their Seedes</l>
      <l n="1467">And weake beginnings lye entreasured:</l>
      <l n="1468">Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time;</l>
      <l n="1469">And by the necessarie forme of this,</l>
      <l n="1470">King<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>might create a perfect guesse,</l>
      <l n="1471">That great<hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>, then false to him,</l>
      <l n="1472">Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falsenesse,</l>
      <l n="1473">Which should not finde a ground to roote upon,</l>
      <l n="1474">Vnlesse on you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1475">Are these things then Necessities?</l>
      <l n="1476">Then let us meete them like Necessities;</l>
      <l n="1477">And that same word, euen now cryes out on vs:</l>
      <l n="1478">They say, the Bishop and<hi rend="italic">Northumberland</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="1479">Are fiftie thousand strong.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-war">
      <speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
      <l n="1480">It cannot be (my Lord:)</l>
      <l n="1481">Rumor doth double, like the Voice, and Eccho,</l>
      <l n="1482">The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace</l>
      <l n="1483">To goe to bed, upon my Life (my Lord)</l>
      <l n="1484">The Pow'rs that you alreadie have sent forth,</l>
      <l n="1485">Shall bring this Prize in very easily.</l>
      <l n="1486">To comfort you the more, I haue receiu'd</l>
      <l n="1487">A certain instance, that<hi rend="italic">Glendour</hi>is dead.</l>
      <l n="1488">Your Maiestie hath beene this fort‑night ill,</l>
      <l n="1489">And these unseason'd howres perforce must adde</l>
      <l n="1490">Vnto your Sicknesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-2h4-hn4">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1491">I will take your counsaile:</l>
      <l n="1492">And were these inward Warres once out of hand,</l>
      <l n="1493">Wee would (deare Lords) unto the Holy‑Land.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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