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  • Title: Henry IV, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1598)
  • 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
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Henry IV, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1598)

    The history
    Prin. Faith tell me now in earnest, how came Falstalffs sword
    1260so hackt?
    Peto. Why, he hackt it with his dagger, and said hee woulde
    sweare truth out of England, but hee would make you beleeue
    it was done in fight, and perswaded vs to do the like.
    1265Bar. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spearegrasse, to make
    them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments with it, and
    sweare it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this se-
    uen yeare before, I blusht to heare his monstrous deuices.
    1270Prin. O villaine, thou stolest a cup of Sacke eighteene yeares
    ago, and wert taken with the maner, and euer since thou hast
    blusht extempore, thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet
    thou ranst away, what instinct hadst thou for it?
    1275Bar. My Lord do you see these meteors? do you behold these
    Prin. I do.
    Bar. What thinke you they portend?
    Prin. Hot liuers, and cold purses.
    1280Bar. Choler, my Lord, if rightly taken.
    Enter Falstalffe.
    Prin. No if rightly taken halter. Here commes leane iacke, here
    commes bare bone: how now my sweete creature of bumbast,
    how long ist ago iacke since thou sawest thine owne knee?
    Fal. My owne knee, when I was about thy yeares (Hall) I was
    not an Eagles talent in the waste, I could haue crept into anie
    Aldermans thumbe ring: a plague of sighing and grief, it blowes
    a man vp like a bladder. Thers villainous newes abroade, heere
    1290was sir Iohn Bracy, from your father: you must to the court in
    the morning. That same mad fellow of the North Percie, and
    he of Wales that gaue Amamon the bastinado, and made Luci-
    fer cuckold, and swore the diuel his true liegeman vp|~o| the crosse
    1295of a Welsh hooke: what a plague call you him?
    Poynes. O Glendower.
    Falst. Owen, Owen, the same, and his sonne in lawe Morti-
    mer, and olde Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of
    1300Scottes, Dowglas, that runnes a horsebacke vp a hill perpendi-
    Prin. He that rides at high speede, and with his pistoll killes a
    sparrow flying.