The First Part of KING HENRY IV
THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV
1. ACT I. SCENE I.
2. Act II scene II
Come shelter, shelter, I have removed Falstafs Horse, and he frets like a gum'd Velvet
Poines, Poines, and be hang'd Poines
Peace ye fat-kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling dost thou keepe
What Poines. Hal?
He is walk'd up to the top of the hill, Ile go seek him
I am accurst to rob in that Theefe company: that Rascall hath removed my Horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travell 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 killing that Rogue, I have forsworne his company hourely any time this two and twenty yeare, & yet I am bewitcht with the Rogues company. If the Rascall have not given me medicines to make me love him, Ile be hang'd; it could not be else: I have drunke Medicines. Poines, Hal, a Plague upon you both. Bardolph, Peto: Ile starve ere I rob a foote further. And 'twere not as good a deede as to drinke, to turne True-man, and to leave these Rogues, I am the veriest Varlet that ever chewed with a Tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground, is threescore & ten miles afoot with me: and the stony-hearted Villaines knowe it well enough. A plague upon't, when Theeves cannot be true one to another. Whew: a plague light upon you all. Give my Horse you Rogues: give me my Horse, and be hang'd
Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare close to the ground, and list if thou can heare the tread of Travellers
Have you any Leavers to lift me up 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?
Thou ly'st, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted
I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good Kings sonne
Out you Rogue, shall I be your Ostler? Fal. Go hang thy selfe in thine owne heire-apparant-Garters: If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I have not Ballads made on all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of Sacke be my poyson: when a jest is so forward, & a foote too, I hate it.
So I do against my will
O 'tis our Setter, I know his voyce: Bardolfe, what newes?
Case ye, case ye; on with your Vizards, there's mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going to the Kings Exchequer
You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tavern
There's enough to make us all
To be hang'd
ou foure shall front them in the narrow Lane: Ned and I, will walke lower; if they scape from your encounter, then they light on us
But how many be of them?
Some eight or ten
Will they not rob us?
What, a Coward Sir John Paunch?
Indeed I am not John of Gaunt your Grandfather; but yet no Coward, Hal
Wee'l leave that to the proofe
Sirra Jacke, thy horse stands behinde the hedg, when thou need'st him, there thou shalt finde him. Farewell, and stand fast
Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd
Ned, where are our disguises?
Heere hard by: Stand close
Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I: every man to his businesse.
Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horses downe the hill: Wee'l walke a-foot a while, and ease our Legges
Iesu blesse us
Strike down with them, cut the villains throats; a whorson Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaves, they hate us youth; downe with them, fleece them
O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever
Hang ye gorbellied knaves, are you undone? No ye Fat Chuffes, I would your store were heere. On Bacons, on, what ye knaves? Yong men must live, you are Grand Jurers, are ye? Wee'l jure ye ifaith.
The Theeves have bound the True-men: Now could thou and I rob the Theeves, and go merily to London, it would be argument for a Weeke, Laughter for a Moneth, and a good jest for ever
Stand close, I heare them comming.
Come my Masters, let us share, and then to horsse before day: and the Prince and Poynes bee not two arrand Cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no moe valour in that Poynes, than in a wilde Ducke
Got with much ease. Now merrily to Horse: The Theeves are scattred, and possest with fear so strongly, that they dare not meet each other: each takes his fellow for an Officer. Away good Ned, Falstaffe sweates to death, and Lards the leane earth as he walkes along: wer't not for laughing, I should pitty him
How the Rogue roar'd.
3. Act III Scene I
Well said Hal, to it Hal! Nay you shall finde no Boyes play heere, I can tell you.
Imbowell'd? If thou imbowell mee to day, Ile give you leave to powder me, and eat me too to morow. 'Twas time to counterfet, or that hotte Termagant Scot, had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I am no counterfeit; to dye, is to be a counterfeit, for hee is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: But to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeede. The better part of Valour, is Discretion; in the which better part, I have saved my life. I am affraide of this Gun-powder Percy though he be dead. How if hee should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid hee would prove the better counterfeit: therefore Ile make him sure: yea, and Ile sweare I kill'd him. Why may not hee rise as well as I: Nothing confutes me but eyes, and no-bodie sees me. Therefore sirra, with a new wound in your thigh come you along me.
Come Brother John, full bravely hast thou flesht thy Maiden sword
But soft, who have we heere?Did you not tell me this Fat man was dead?
I did, I saw him dead, Breathlesse, and bleeding on the ground: Art thou alive? Or is it fantasie that playes upon our eye-sight? I prethee speake, we will not trust our eyes Without our eares. Thou art not what thou seem'st
No, that's certaine: I am not a double man: but if I be not Jacke Falstaffe, then am I a Jacke: There is Percy, if your Father will do me any Honor, so: if not, let him kill the next Percie himselfe. I looke to be either Earle or Duke, I can assure you
Why, Percy I kill'd my selfe, and saw thee dead
Did'st thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is given to Lying? I graunt you I was downe, and out of breath, and so was he, but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long houre by Shrewsburie clocke. If I may bee beleeved, so: if not, let them that should reward Valour, beare the sinne upon their owne heads. Ile take't on my death I gave him this wound in the Thigh: if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eate a peece of my sword
This is the strangest Tale that e're I heard
This is the strangest Fellow, Brother John. Come bring your luggage Nobly on your backe: For my part, if a lye may do thee grace, Ile gil'd it with the happiest tearmes I have.
Ile follow as they say, for Reward. Hee that rewards me, heaven reward him. If I do grow great again, Ile grow lesse? For Ile purge, and leave Sacke, and live cleanly, as a Nobleman should do.