Internet Shakespeare Editions


Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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
    That were his lackies, I cried hum, and wel go to,
    1690But markt him not a word. O he is as tedious
    As a tyred horse, a railing wife,
    Worse then a smoky house. I had rather liue
    With cheese and garlike in a Windmil far,
    Then feed on cates and haue him talke to me,
    1695In any summer house in Christendome.
    Mor. In faith he is a worthy gentleman,
    Exceedingly well read and profited
    In strange concealements, valiant as a lion,
    And wondrous affable; and as bountifull
    1700As mines of India; shal I tell you coosen,
    He holds your temper in a high respect
    And curbs himselfe euen of his natural scope,
    When you come crosse his humor, faith he does,
    1705I warrant you that man is not aliue
    Might so haue tempted him as you haue done,
    Without the tast of danger and reproofe,
    But do not vse it oft, let me intreat you.
    Wor. In faith my Lord you are too wilfull blame,
    1710And since your comming hither haue done enough
    To put him quite besides his patience,
    You must needes learne Lord to amend this fault,
    Though sometimes it shew greatnes, courage, bloud,
    And thats the dearest grace it renders you,
    1715Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
    Defect of maners, want of gouernment,
    Pride, hautinesse, opinion, and disdaine,
    The least of which hanting a noble man,
    Looseth mens harts and leaues behind a staine
    1720Vpon the beauty of all parts besides,
    Beguiling them of commendation.
    Hot. Wel I am schoold good maners be your speed,
    Here come our wiues, and let vs take our leaue.
    Enter Glendower with the Ladies.
    Mor. This is the deadly spight that angers me,
    My wife can speake no English, I no Welsh.
    Glen. My daughter weepes, sheele not part with you,