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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    of Henrie the fourth.
    Sheele be a souldior to, sheele to the wars.
    1730Mor. Good father tell her, that she and my Aunt Percy
    Shal follow in your conduct speedily.
    Glendower speakes to her in Welsh, and she answeres
    him in the same.
    Glen. She is desperate here,
    1735A peeuish selfe wild harlotrie, one that no perswasion can doe
    good vpon.The Ladie speakes in Welsh.
    Mor. I vnderstand thy lookes, that prettie Welsh,
    Which thou powrest downe from these swelling heauens,
    1740I am too perfect in, and but for shame
    In such a parley should I answere thee.
    The Ladie againe in welsh.
    Mor. I vnderstand thy kisses, and thou mine,
    And thats a feeling disputation,
    1745But I will neuer be a truant loue,
    Till I haue learnt thy language, for thy tongue
    Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly pend,
    Sung by a faire Queene in a summers bowre,
    With rauishing diuision to her Lute.
    1750Glen. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
    The Lad e speakes againe in Welsh.
    Mor. O I am ignorance it selfe in this.
    Glen. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you downe,
    1755And rest your gentle head vpon her lap,
    And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
    And on your eyelids crowne the God of sleepe,
    Charming your bloud with pleasing heauinesse,
    Making such difference twixt wake and sleepe,
    1760As is the difference betwixt day and night,
    The houre before the heauenly harnest teeme
    Begins his golden progresse in the east.
    Mor. With all my heart ile sit and heare her sing,
    By that time will our booke I thinke be drawne.
    1765Glen. Do so, & those musitions that shal play to you,
    Hang in the aire a thousand leagues from hence,
    And straight they shalbe here, sit and attend.
    F.iii Hot.