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twg_000000017100 | Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness. Wast Hamlet wrongd Laertes? Never Hamlet. If Hamlet from himself be taen away, And when hes not himself does wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it. Who does it, then? His madness. Ift be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wrongd; His madness is poor Hamlets enemy. Sir, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017101 | in this audience, Let my disclaiming from a purposd evil Free me so far in your most generous thoughts That I have shot my arrow oer the house And hurt my brother. LAERTES. I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive in this case should stir me most To my revenge. But in my terms of honour I stand aloof, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017102 | will no reconcilement Till by some elder masters of known honour I have a voice and precedent of peace To keep my name ungord. But till that time I do receive your offerd love like love, And will not wrong it. HAMLET. I embrace it freely, And will this brothers wager frankly play. Give us the foils; come on. LAERTES. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017103 | Come, one for me. HAMLET. Ill be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance Your skill shall like a star i th darkest night, Stick fiery off indeed. LAERTES. You mock me, sir. HAMLET. No, by this hand. KING. Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet, You know the wager? HAMLET. Very well, my lord. Your Grace has laid the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017104 | odds o the weaker side. KING. I do not fear it. I have seen you both; But since he is betterd, we have therefore odds. LAERTES. This is too heavy. Let me see another. HAMLET. This likes me well. These foils have all a length? [_They prepare to play._] OSRIC. Ay, my good lord. KING. Set me the stoups of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017105 | wine upon that table. If Hamlet give the first or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the battlements their ordnance fire; The King shall drink to Hamlets better breath, And in the cup an union shall he throw Richer than that which four successive kings In Denmarks crown have worn. Give me the cups; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017106 | And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, The trumpet to the cannoneer without, The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth, Now the King drinks to Hamlet. Come, begin. And you, the judges, bear a wary eye. HAMLET. Come on, sir. LAERTES. Come, my lord. [_They play._] HAMLET. One. LAERTES. No. HAMLET. Judgement. OSRIC. A hit, a very | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017107 | palpable hit. LAERTES. Well; again. KING. Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; Heres to thy health. [_Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within._] Give him the cup. HAMLET. Ill play this bout first; set it by awhile. [_They play._] Come. Another hit; what say you? LAERTES. A touch, a touch, I do confess. KING. Our son shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017108 | win. QUEEN. Hes fat, and scant of breath. Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows. The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet. HAMLET. Good madam. KING. Gertrude, do not drink. QUEEN. I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. KING. [_Aside._] It is the poisond cup; it is too late. HAMLET. I dare not drink yet, madam. By | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017109 | and by. QUEEN. Come, let me wipe thy face. LAERTES. My lord, Ill hit him now. KING. I do not thinkt. LAERTES. [_Aside._] And yet tis almost gainst my conscience. HAMLET. Come for the third, Laertes. You do but dally. I pray you pass with your best violence. I am afeard you make a wanton of me. LAERTES. Say you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017110 | so? Come on. [_They play._] OSRIC. Nothing neither way. LAERTES. Have at you now. [_Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling, they change rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes._] KING. Part them; they are incensd. HAMLET. Nay, come again! [_The Queen falls._] OSRIC. Look to the Queen there, ho! HORATIO. They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord? OSRIC. How | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017111 | ist, Laertes? LAERTES. Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric. I am justly killd with mine own treachery. HAMLET. How does the Queen? KING. She swoons to see them bleed. QUEEN. No, no, the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet! The drink, the drink! I am poisond. [_Dies._] HAMLET. O villany! Ho! Let the door be lockd: | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017112 | Treachery! Seek it out. [_Laertes falls._] LAERTES. It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain. No medicine in the world can do thee good. In thee there is not half an hour of life; The treacherous instrument is in thy hand, Unbated and envenomd. The foul practice Hath turnd itself on me. Lo, here I lie, Never to rise again. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017113 | Thy mothers poisond. I can no more. The King, the Kings to blame. HAMLET. The point envenomd too! Then, venom, to thy work. [_Stabs the King._] OSRIC and LORDS. Treason! treason! KING. O yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt. HAMLET. Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother. [_King | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017114 | dies._] LAERTES. He is justly servd. It is a poison temperd by himself. Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. Mine and my fathers death come not upon thee, Nor thine on me. [_Dies._] HAMLET. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched Queen, adieu. You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017115 | are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time,as this fell sergeant, death, Is strict in his arrest,O, I could tell you, But let it be. Horatio, I am dead, Thou livst; report me and my cause aright To the unsatisfied. HORATIO. Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Heres yet some | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017116 | liquor left. HAMLET. As thart a man, Give me the cup. Let go; by Heaven, Ill havet. O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017117 | [_March afar off, and shot within._] What warlike noise is this? OSRIC. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, To the ambassadors of England gives This warlike volley. HAMLET. O, I die, Horatio. The potent poison quite oer-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England, But I do prophesy thelection lights On Fortinbras. He has my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017118 | dying voice. So tell him, with the occurrents more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is silence. [_Dies._] HORATIO. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. Why does the drum come hither? [_March within._] Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors and others. FORTINBRAS. Where is this sight? HORATIO. What | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017119 | is it you would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search. FORTINBRAS. This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many princes at a shot So bloodily hast struck? FIRST AMBASSADOR. The sight is dismal; And our affairs from England come too late. The ears are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017120 | senseless that should give us hearing, To tell him his commandment is fulfilld, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Where should we have our thanks? HORATIO. Not from his mouth, Had it thability of life to thank you. He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017121 | from England Are here arrivd, give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view, And let me speak to th yet unknowing world How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forcd cause, And, in this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017122 | upshot, purposes mistook Falln on the inventors heads. All this can I Truly deliver. FORTINBRAS. Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the audience. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me. HORATIO. Of that I shall have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017123 | also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more. But let this same be presently performd, Even while mens minds are wild, lest more mischance On plots and errors happen. FORTINBRAS. Let four captains Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, For he was likely, had he been put on, To have provd most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017124 | royally; and for his passage, The soldiers music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the soldiers shoot. [_A dead march._] [_Exeunt, bearing off the bodies, after which a peal of ordnance is shot off._] THE FIRST PART OF | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017125 | KING HENRY THE FOURTH Contents ACT I Scene I. London. A Room in the Palace. Scene II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henrys. Scene III. The Same. A Room in the Palace. ACT II Scene I. Rochester. An Inn-Yard. Scene II. The Road by Gads-hill. Scene III. Warkworth. A Room in the Castle. Scene IV. Eastcheap. A Room in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017126 | the Boars Head Tavern. ACT III Scene I. Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacons House. Scene II. London. A Room in the Palace. Scene III. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boars Head Tavern. ACT IV Scene I. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. Scene II. A public Road near Coventry. Scene III. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. Scene IV. York. A | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017127 | Room in the Archbishops Palace. ACT V Scene I. The Kings Camp near Shrewsbury. Scene II. The Rebel Camp. Scene III. Plain between the Camps. Scene IV. Another Part of the Field. Scene V. Another Part of the Field. Dramatis Person KING HENRY the Fourth. HENRY, PRINCE of Wales, son to the King. Prince John of LANCASTER, son to the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017128 | King. Earl of WESTMORELAND. Sir Walter BLUNT. Thomas Percy, Earl of WORCESTER. Henry Percy, Earl of NORTHUMBERLAND. Henry Percy, surnamed HOTSPUR, his son. Edmund MORTIMER, Earl of March. Scroop, ARCHBISHOP of York. SIR MICHAEL, a friend to the archbishop of York. Archibald, Earl of DOUGLAS. Owen GLENDOWER. Sir Richard VERNON. Sir John FALSTAFF. POINS. GADSHILL. PETO. BARDOLPH. LADY PERCY, Wife | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017129 | to Hotspur. Lady Mortimer, Daughter to Glendower. Mrs. Quickly, Hostess in Eastcheap. Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, Carriers, Ostler, Messengers, Servant, Travellers and Attendants. SCENE. England and Wales. ACT I SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland with others. KING. So shaken as we are, so wan with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017130 | care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenced in strands afar remote. No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own childrens blood, No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017131 | those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, March all one way, and be no more opposed Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies. The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017132 | No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engaged to fight Forthwith a power of English shall we levy, Whose arms were molded in their mothers womb To chase these pagans in those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017133 | feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed For our advantage on the bitter cross. But this our purpose now is twelve month old, And bootless tis to tell you we will go; Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, What yesternight our Council did decree In forwarding this dear expedience. WESTMORELAND. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017134 | My liege, this haste was hot in question, And many limits of the charge set down But yesternight, when all athwart there came A post from Wales loaden with heavy news, Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017135 | A thousand of his people butchered, Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, Such beastly shameless transformation, By those Welshwomen done, as may not be Without much shame retold or spoken of. KING. It seems then that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy Land. WESTMORELAND. This, matched with other did, my gracious lord, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017136 | For more uneven and unwelcome news Came from the North, and thus it did import: On Holy-rood day the gallant Hotspur there, Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald, That ever-valiant and approved Scot, At Holmedon met, where they did spend A sad and bloody hour; As by discharge of their artillery, And shape of likelihood, the news was told; For | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017137 | he that brought them, in the very heat And pride of their contention did take horse, Uncertain of the issue any way. KING. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend, Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Stained with the variation of each soil Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; And he hath brought us smooth and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017138 | welcome news. The Earl of Douglas is discomfited; Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights, Balked in their own blood, did Sir Walter see On Holmedons plains; of prisoners Hotspur took Mordake, Earl of Fife and eldest son To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Athol, Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith. And is not this an honourable spoil, A gallant prize? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017139 | Ha, cousin, is it not? WESTMORELAND. In faith, it is a conquest for a prince to boast of. KING. Yea, there thou makst me sad, and makst me sin In envy that my Lord Northumberland Should be the father to so blest a son, A son who is the theme of honours tongue, Amongst a grove the very straightest plant, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017140 | Who is sweet Fortunes minion and her pride; Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, See riot and dishonour stain the brow Of my young Harry. O, that it could be proved That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, And called mine Percy, his Plantagenet! Then would I have his Harry, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017141 | he mine: But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, Of this young Percys pride? The prisoners, Which he in this adventure hath surprised To his own use he keeps, and sends me word I shall have none but Mordake, Earl of Fife. WESTMORELAND. This is his uncles teaching, this is Worcester, Malevolent to you in all aspects, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017142 | Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity. KING. But I have sent for him to answer this; And for this cause awhile we must neglect Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. Cousin, on Wednesday next our Council we Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords: But come yourself with speed to us | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017143 | again, For more is to be said and to be done Than out of anger can be uttered. WESTMORELAND. I will, my liege. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henrys. Enter Prince Henry and Sir John Falstaff. FALSTAFF. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? PRINCE. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017144 | and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017145 | blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. FALSTAFF. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we that take purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not by Phbus, he, that wandring knight so fair. And I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017146 | prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as God save thy GraceMajesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none PRINCE. What, none? FALSTAFF. No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. PRINCE. Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly. FALSTAFF. Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017147 | not us that are squires of the nights body be called thieves of the days beauty: let us be Dianas foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon; and let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. PRINCE. Thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017148 | sayest well, and it holds well too, for the fortune of us that are the moons men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As for proof now: a purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning, got with swearing Lay by and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017149 | spent with crying Bring in; now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. FALSTAFF. By the Lord, thou sayst true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? PRINCE. As the honey of Hybla, my old | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017150 | lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? FALSTAFF. How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy quips and thy quiddities? What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? PRINCE. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? FALSTAFF. Well, thou hast | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017151 | called her to a reckoning many a time and oft. PRINCE. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? FALSTAFF. No, Ill give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. PRINCE. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch, and where it would not, I have used my credit. FALSTAFF. Yea, and so used it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017152 | that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparentBut I prithee sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? And resolution thus fubbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father Antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. PRINCE. No, thou shalt. FALSTAFF. Shall I? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017153 | O rare! By the Lord, Ill be a brave judge. PRINCE. Thou judgest false already, I mean thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman. FALSTAFF. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. PRINCE. For obtaining of suits? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017154 | FALSTAFF. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. PRINCE. Or an old lion, or a lovers lute. FALSTAFF. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. PRINCE. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? FALSTAFF. Thou hast the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017155 | most unsavoury similes, and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the Council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017156 | marked him not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not, and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. PRINCE. Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards it. FALSTAFF. O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017157 | me, Hal, God forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over. By the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain. Ill be damned for never | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017158 | a kings son in Christendom. PRINCE. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? FALSTAFF. Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, Ill make one. An I do not, call me villain and baffle me. PRINCE. I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking. FALSTAFF. Why, Hal, tis my vocation, Hal, tis no sin for a man | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017159 | to labour in his vocation. Enter Poins. Poins!Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried Stand! to a true man. PRINCE. Good morrow, Ned. POINS. Good morrow, sweet Hal.What says Monsieur | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017160 | Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-and-sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday last for a cup of Madeira and a cold capons leg? PRINCE. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs. He will give the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017161 | devil his due. POINS. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. PRINCE. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. POINS. But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by four oclock early at Gads Hill, there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses. I have visards | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017162 | for you all; you have horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester. I have bespoke supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns. If you will not, tarry at home and be hanged. FALSTAFF. Hear ye, Yedward, if I tarry at home | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017163 | and go not, Ill hang you for going. POINS. You will, chops? FALSTAFF. Hal, wilt thou make one? PRINCE. Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith. FALSTAFF. Theres neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camst not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. PRINCE. Well then, once | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017164 | in my days Ill be a madcap. FALSTAFF. Why, thats well said. PRINCE. Well, come what will, Ill tarry at home. FALSTAFF. By the Lord, Ill be a traitor then, when thou art king. PRINCE. I care not. POINS. Sir John, I prithee, leave the Prince and me alone. I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017165 | he shall go. FALSTAFF. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion, and him the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false thief, for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell, you shall find me in Eastcheap. PRINCE. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017166 | Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer! [_Exit Falstaff._] POINS. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us tomorrow. I have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid. Yourself and I will not be there. And when they have the booty, if you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017167 | and I do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders. PRINCE. But how shall we part with them in setting forth? POINS. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves, which they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017168 | shall have no sooner achieved but well set upon them. PRINCE. Yea, but tis like that they will know us by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. POINS. Tut, our horses they shall not see, Ill tie them in the wood; our visards we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017169 | have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. PRINCE. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. POINS. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, Ill forswear arms. The virtue | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017170 | of this jest will be the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty at least he fought with, what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lives the jest. PRINCE. Well, Ill go with thee. Provide us all things necessary and meet me tomorrow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017171 | night in Eastcheap; there Ill sup. Farewell. POINS. Farewell, my lord. [_Exit._] PRINCE. I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyokd humour of your idleness. Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017172 | may be more wonderd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; But, when they seldom come, they wishd-for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So when this loose behaviour I throw off, And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017173 | pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify mens hopes; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittring oer my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off. Ill so offend, to make | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017174 | offence a skill, Redeeming time, when men think least I will. [_Exit._] SCENE III. The Same. A Room in the Palace. Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt and others. KING. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to stir at these indignities, And you have found me, for accordingly You tread upon my patience: but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017175 | be sure I will from henceforth rather be myself, Mighty and to be feard, than my condition, Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, And therefore lost that title of respect Which the proud soul neer pays but to the proud. WORCESTER. Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves The scourge of greatness to be used on | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017176 | it, And that same greatness too which our own hands Have holp to make so portly. NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, KING. Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye: O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, And majesty might never yet endure The moody frontier of a servant brow. You have good leave | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017177 | to leave us. When we need Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. [_Exit Worcester._] [_To Northumberland._] You were about to speak. NORTHUMBERLAND. Yea, my good lord. Those prisoners in your Highness name demanded, Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, Were, as he says, not with such strength denied As is deliverd to your Majesty. Either envy, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017178 | therefore, or misprision Is guilty of this fault, and not my son. HOTSPUR. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressd, Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017179 | new reapd Showd like a stubble-land at harvest-home. He was perfumed like a milliner, And twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose, and tookt away again, Who therewith angry, when it next came there, Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talkd. And as the soldiers bore | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017180 | dead bodies by, He calld them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. With many holiday and lady terms He questiond me, amongst the rest demanded My prisoners in your Majestys behalf. I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, Out of my grief and my impatience To be so pesterd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017181 | with a popinjay, Answerd neglectingly, I know not what, He should, or he should not; for he made me mad To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman Of guns and drums and wounds, God save the mark! And telling me the sovereignest thing on Earth Was parmacety for an inward bruise, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017182 | And that it was great pity, so it was, This villainous saltpetre should be diggd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroyd So cowardly, and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, I answered indirectly, as I said, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017183 | And I beseech you, let not his report Come current for an accusation Betwixt my love and your high Majesty. BLUNT. The circumstance considerd, good my lord, Whatever Harry Percy then had said To such a person, and in such a place, At such a time, with all the rest retold, May reasonably die, and never rise To do him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017184 | wrong, or any way impeach What then he said, so he unsay it now. KING. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, But with proviso and exception, That we at our own charge shall ransom straight His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer, Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betrayd The lives of those that he did lead to fight Against that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017185 | great magician, damnd Glendower, Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? Shall we buy treason and indent with fears When they have lost and forfeited themselves? No, on the barren mountains let him starve; For I shall never hold that man my friend Whose | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017186 | tongue shall ask me for one penny cost To ransom home revolted Mortimer. HOTSPUR. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, But by the chance of war. To prove that true Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took, When on the gentle Severns sedgy bank, In single | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017187 | opposition hand to hand, He did confound the best part of an hour In changing hardiment with great Glendower. Three times they breathed, and three times did they drink, Upon agreement, of swift Severns flood, Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank Blood-stained with these | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017188 | valiant combatants. Never did bare and rotten policy Colour her working with such deadly wounds, Nor never could the noble Mortimer Receive so many, and all willingly. Then let not him be slanderd with revolt. KING. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him, He never did encounter with Glendower. I tell thee, he durst as well have met | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017189 | the devil alone As Owen Glendower for an enemy. Art not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer. Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, Or you shall hear in such a kind from me As will displease you.My Lord Northumberland, We license your departure with your son. Send us your prisoners, or youll | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017190 | hear of it. [_Exit King Henry, Blunt and train._] HOTSPUR. An if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them. I will after straight And tell him so, for I will ease my heart, Albeit I make a hazard of my head. NORTHUMBERLAND. What, drunk with choler? Stay, and pause awhile. Here comes your uncle. Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017191 | Worcester. HOTSPUR. Speak of Mortimer? Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul Want mercy if I do not join with him. Yea, on his part Ill empty all these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high in the air as this unthankful King, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017192 | As this ingrate and cankerd Bolingbroke. NORTHUMBERLAND. [_To Worcester._] Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad. WORCESTER. Who struck this heat up after I was gone? HOTSPUR. He will forsooth have all my prisoners, And when I urged the ransom once again Of my wifes brother, then his cheek lookd pale, And on my face he turnd an eye | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017193 | of death, Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. WORCESTER. I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaimd By Richard that dead is, the next of blood? NORTHUMBERLAND. He was; I heard the proclamation. And then it was when the unhappy King Whose wrongs in us God pardon!did set forth Upon his Irish expedition; From whence he, intercepted, did return | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017194 | To be deposed, and shortly murdered. WORCESTER. And for whose death we in the worlds wide mouth Live scandalized and foully spoken of. HOTSPUR. But soft, I pray you, did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer Heir to the crown? NORTHUMBERLAND. He did; myself did hear it. HOTSPUR. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin King, That wishd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017195 | him on the barren mountains starve. But shall it be that you that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man, And for his sake wear the detested blot Of murderous subornationshall it be, That you a world of curses undergo, Being the agents, or base second means, The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? O, pardon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017196 | me, that I descend so low, To show the line and the predicament Wherein you range under this subtle King. Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, Or fill up chronicles in time to come, That men of your nobility and power Did gage them both in an unjust behalf (As both of you, God pardon it, have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017197 | done) To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? And shall it in more shame be further spoken, That you are foold, discarded, and shook off By him for whom these shames ye underwent? No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem Your banishd honours, and restore yourselves Into the good thoughts of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017198 | the world again: Revenge the jeering and disdaind contempt Of this proud King, who studies day and night To answer all the debt he owes to you Even with the bloody payment of your deaths. Therefore, I say WORCESTER. Peace, cousin, say no more. And now I will unclasp a secret book, And to your quick-conceiving discontents Ill read you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000017199 | matter deep and dangerous, As full of peril and adventurous spirit As to oer-walk a current roaring loud On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. HOTSPUR. If we fall in, good night, or sink or swim! Send danger from the east unto the west, So honour cross it from the north to south, And let them grapple. O, the blood | 60 | gutenberg |
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