Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Rosemary Gaby
Not Peer Reviewed

Henry IV, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1598)


of Henry the fourth.
worde outfac't you from your prize, & haue it, yea & can shew
it you here in the house: and Falstalffe you carried your guts a-
1215way as nimbly, with as quicke dexteritie, & roard for mercy, and
stil run and roard, as euer I heard bul-calf. What a slaue art thou
to hacke thy sworde as thou hast done? and then say it was in
fight. What tricke? what deuice? what starting hole canst thou
1220now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparant shame?
Po. Come, lets heare iacke, what tricke hast thou now?
Falst. By the Lord, I knew ye as wel as he that made ye. Why
1225heare you my maisters, was it for me to kill the heire apparant?
should I turne vpon the true prince? why thou knowest I am as
valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct, the lion will not touch
the true prince, instinct is a great matter. I was now a cowarde
on instinct, I shall thinke the better of my selfe, and thee during
1230my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince: but by
the Lord, lads, I am glad you haue the money, Hostesse clap to
the doores, watch to night, pray to morrowe, gallants, lads,
boyes, hearts of golde, all the titles of good fellowship come
to you. What shall wee bee merrie, shall wee haue a play ex-
1235tempore?
Prin. Content, and the argument shall bee thy running away.
Falst. A, no more of that Hal and thou louest me. Enter hostesse
1240Ho. O Iesu, my Lord the prince!
Prin. How now my lady the hostesse, what saist thou to me?
Ho. Marry my Lo. there is a noble man of the court at doore
would speake with you: he saies he commes from your father.
Prin. Giue him as much as will make him a royall man, and
send him backe againe to my mother.
Fal. What maner of man is he?
Host. An olde man.
1250Falst. What doth grauitie out of his bed at midnight? Shall I
giue him his answere?
Prin. Preethe do iacke.
Fa. Faith and ile send him packing.
Exit.
Prin. Now sirs, birlady you fought faire, so did you Peto, so
1255did you Bardol, you are lions, to you ran away vpon instinct, you
will not touch the true prince, no fie.
Bar. Faith I ran when I saw others runne.
E
Prin.