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  • Title: Henry IV, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1598)
  • Editor: Rosemary Gaby

  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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 2 (Quarto 1, 1598)

    Henry the fourth.
    Mowb. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,
    And dash themselues to peeces.
    Enter messenger
    Hastings Now, what newes?
    1885Messenger West of this forrest, scarcely off a mile,
    In goodly forme comes on the enemy,
    And by the ground they hide, I iudge their number
    Vpon, or neere the rate of thirty thousand.
    Mowbray The iust proportion that we gaue them out,
    1890Let vs sway on, and face them in the field.
    Bishop What wel appointed Leader fronts vs heere?
    Enter Westmerland
    Mowbray I thinke it is my lord of Westmerland.
    West. Health and faire greeting from our Generall,
    1895The prince lord Iohn and duke of Lancaster.
    Bishop Say on my lord of VVestmerland in peace,
    VVhat doth concerne your comming?
    We. Then my L. vnto your Grace do I in chiefe addresse
    1900The substance of my speech: if that rebellion
    Came like it selfe, in base and abiect rowtes,
    Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage,
    And countenaunst by boyes and beggary.
    I say, if damnd commotion so appeare,
    1905In his true, natiue, and most proper shape,
    You, reuerend father, and these noble Lordes,
    Had not beene heere to dresse the owgly forme
    Of base and bloody Insurrection
    With your faire Honours. You (lord Archbishop)
    1910Whose Sea is by a ciuile peace maintainde,
    Whose beard the siluer hand of Peace hath toucht,
    Whose learning and good letters Peace hath tutord,
    Whose white inuestments figure innocence,
    The Doue, and very blessed spirite of peace.
    1915Wherefore do you so ill translate your selfe
    Out of the speech of peace that beares such grace,
    Into the harsh and boystrous tongue of warre?
    Turning your bookes to graues, your incke to bloud,