Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Henry IV, Part 1 (Modern)
  • Editor: Rosemary Gaby
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-371-7

    Copyright Rosemary Gaby. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Rosemary Gaby
    Peer Reviewed

    Henry IV, Part 1 (Modern)

    Enter the king, Prince of Wales, and others.
    King Lords, give us leave. The Prince of Wales and I
    Must have some private conference; but be near at hand,
    1820For we shall presently have need of you.
    Exeunt lords.
    I know not whether god will have it so
    For some displeasing service I have done,
    That in his secret doom out of my blood
    1825He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me,
    But thou dost in thy passages of life
    Make me believe that thou art only marked
    For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
    To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
    1830Could such inordinate and low desires,
    Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
    Such barren pleasures, rude society,
    As thou art matched withal and grafted to,
    Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
    1835And hold their level with thy princely heart?
    Prince So please your majesty, I would I could
    Quit all offenses with as clear excuse
    As well as I am doubtless I can purge
    Myself of many I am charged withal.
    1840Yet such extenuation let me beg
    As, in reproof of many tales devised --
    Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear --
    By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers,
    I may, for some things true wherein my youth
    1845Hath faulty wandered and irregular,
    Find pardon on my true submission.
    King God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
    At thy affections, which do hold a wing
    1850Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
    Thy place in Council thou hast rudely lost,
    Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
    And art almost an alien to the hearts
    Of all the court and princes of my blood.
    1855The hope and expectation of thy time
    Is ruined, and the soul of every man
    Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
    Had I so lavish of my presence been,
    So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
    1860So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
    Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
    Had still kept loyal to possession,
    And left me in reputeless banishment,
    A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
    1865By being seldom seen, I could not stir
    But, like a comet, I was wondered at,
    That men would tell their children "This is he!"
    Others would say "Where, which is Bolingbroke?"
    And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
    1870And dressed myself in such humility
    That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
    Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
    Even in the presence of the crownèd king.
    Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
    1875My presence, like a robe pontifical,
    Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state,
    Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast,
    And won by rareness such solemnity.
    The skipping king, he ambled up and down
    1880With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
    Soon kindled and soon burnt, carded his state,
    Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools,
    Had his great name profanèd with their scorns,
    And gave his countenance, against his name,
    1885To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
    Of every beardless vain comparative;
    Grew a companion to the common streets,
    Enfeoffed himself to popularity,
    That, being daily swallowed by men's eyes,
    1890They surfeited with honey, and began
    To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
    More than a little is by much too much.
    So when he had occasion to be seen,
    He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
    1895Heard, not regarded -- seen, but with such eyes
    As, sick and blunted with community,
    Afford no extraordinary gaze
    Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
    When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,
    1900But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,
    Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect
    As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
    Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full.
    And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;
    1905For thou hast lost thy princely privilege
    With vile participation. Not an eye
    But is a-weary of thy common sight
    Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more,
    Which now doth that I would not have it do:
    1910Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
    [He weeps.]
    Prince I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
    Be more myself.
    For all the world,
    As thou art to this hour was Richard then,
    1915When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,
    And even as I was then is Percy now.
    Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,
    He hath more worthy interest to the state
    Than thou, the shadow of succession;
    1920For, of no right, nor color like to right,
    He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
    Turns head against the lion's armèd jaws,
    And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
    Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on
    1925To bloody battles, and to bruising arms.
    What never-dying honor hath he got
    Against renownèd Douglas, whose high deeds,
    Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,
    Holds from all soldiers chief majority
    1930And military title capital
    Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
    Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling-clothes,
    This infant warrior, in his enterprises
    Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once;
    1935Enlargèd him, and made a friend of him
    To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,
    And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
    And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
    The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
    1940Capitulate against us, and are up.
    But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
    Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
    Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?
    Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
    1945Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
    To fight against me under Percy's pay,
    To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,
    To show how much thou art degenerate.
    Prince Do not think so; you shall not find it so.
    1950And god forgive them that so much have swayed
    Your majesty's good thoughts away from me.
    I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
    And in the closing of some glorious day
    Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
    1955When I will wear a garment all of blood,
    And stain my favors in a bloody mask,
    Which, washed away, shall scour my shame with it.
    And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
    That this same child of honor and renown,
    1960This gallant Hotspur, this all-praisèd knight,
    And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
    For every honor sitting on his helm,
    Would they were multitudes, and on my head
    My shames redoubled; for the time will come
    1965That I shall make this northern youth exchange
    His glorious deeds for my indignities.
    Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
    To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
    And I will call him to so strict account
    1970That he shall render every glory up,
    Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
    Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
    This, in the name of god, I promise here,
    The which, if he be pleased I shall perform,
    1975I do beseech your majesty may salve
    The long-grown wounds of my intemperance;
    If not, the end of life cancels all bonds,
    And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
    Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
    1980King A hundred thousand rebels die in this.
    Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.
    Enter Blunt.
    How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed.
    Blunt So hath the business that I come to speak of.
    1985Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
    That Douglas and the English rebels met
    The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.
    A mighty and a fearful head they are,
    If promises be kept on every hand,
    1990As ever offered foul play in a state.
    King The Earl of Westmorland set forth today,
    With him my son Lord John of Lancaster,
    For this advertisement is five days old.
    On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward,
    1995On Thursday we ourselves will march.
    Our meeting is Bridgnorth, and, Harry, you
    Shall march through Gloucestershire, by which account,
    Our business valuèd, some twelve days hence
    Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.
    2000Our hands are full of business; let's away.
    Advantage feeds him fat while men delay.