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  • Title: Henry IV, Part 1 (Folio 1 1623)
  • 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 (Folio 1 1623)

    Scoena Tertia.
    Enter Hotspurre solus, reading a Letter.
    850
    But for mine owne part, my Lord, I could bee well contented to
    be there, in respect of the loue I beare your house.
    He
    The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. 55
    He could be contented: Why is he not then? in respect of
    the loue he beares our house. He shewes in this, he loues
    his owne Barne better then he loues our house. Let me
    855see some more. The purpose you vndertake is dangerous.
    Why that's certaine: 'Tis dangerous to take a Colde, to
    sleepe, to drinke: but I tell you (my Lord foole) out of
    this Nettle, Danger; we plucke this Flower, Safety. The
    purpose you vndertake is dangerous, the Friends you haue na-
    860med vncertaine, the Time it selfe vnsorted, and your whole
    Plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an Opposition.
    Say you so, say you so: I say vnto you againe, you are a
    shallow cowardly Hinde, and you Lye. What a lacke-
    braine is this? I protest, our plot is as good a plot as euer
    865was laid; our Friend true and constant: A good Plotte,
    good Friends, and full of expectation: An excellent plot,
    very good Friends. What a Frosty-spirited rogue is this?
    Why, my Lord of Yorke commends the plot, and the
    generall course of the action. By this hand, if I were now
    870by this Rascall, I could braine him with his Ladies Fan.
    Is there not my Father, my Vncle, and my Selfe, Lord
    Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of Yorke, and Owen Glendour?
    Is there not besides, the Dowglas? Haue I not all their let-
    ters, to meete me in Armes by the ninth of the next Mo-
    875neth? and are they not some of them set forward already?
    What a Pagan Rascall is this? An Infidell. Ha, you shall
    see now in very sincerity of Feare and Cold heart, will he
    to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could
    diuide my selfe, and go to buffets, for mouing such a dish
    880of skim'd Milk with so honourable an Action. Hang him,
    let him tell the King we are prepared. I will set forwards
    to night.
    Enter his Lady.
    How now Kate, I must leaue you within these two hours.
    885La. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone?
    For what offence haue I this fortnight bin
    A banish'd woman from my Harries bed?
    Tell me (sweet Lord) what is't that takes from thee
    Thy stomacke, pleasure, and thy golden sleepe?
    890Why dost thou bend thine eyes vpon the earth?
    And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?
    Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheekes?
    And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee,
    To thicke-ey'd musing, and curst melancholly?
    895In my faint-slumbers, I by thee haue watcht,
    And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres:
    Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed,
    Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd
    Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents,
    900Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets,
    Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin,
    Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine,
    And all the current of a headdy fight.
    Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre,
    905And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe,
    That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow,
    Like bubbles in a late-disturbed Streame;
    And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd,
    Such as we see when men restraine their breath
    910On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these?
    Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand,
    And I must know it: else he loues me not.
    Hot. What ho; Is Gilliams with the Packet gone?
    Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone.
    915Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses frõ the Sheriffe?
    Ser. One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now.
    Hot. What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not.
    Ser. It is my Lord.
    Hot. That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will
    920backe him straight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth
    into the Parke.
    La. But heare you, my Lord.
    Hot. What say'st thou my Lady?
    La. What is it carries you away?
    925Hot. Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse.
    La. Out you mad-headed Ape, a Weazell hath not
    such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile
    know your businesse Harry, that I will. I feare my Bro-
    ther Mortimer doth stirre about his Title, and hath sent
    930for you to line his enterprize. But if you go---
    Hot. So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue.
    La. Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me directly
    vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake
    thy little finger Harry, if thou wilt not tel me true.
    935Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not,
    I care not for thee Kate: this is no world
    To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.
    We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes,
    And passe them currant too. Gods me, my horse.
    940What say'st thou Kate? what wold'st thou haue with me?
    La. Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed?
    Well, do not then. For since you loue me not,
    I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me?
    Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest, or no.
    945Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
    And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare
    I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate,
    I must not haue you henceforth, question me,
    Whether I go: nor reason whereabout.
    950Whether I must, I must: and to conclude,
    This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle Kate.
    I know you wise, but yet no further wise
    Then Harry Percies wife. Constant you are,
    But yet a woman: and for secrecie,
    955No Lady closer. For I will beleeue
    Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know,
    And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate.
    La. How so farre?
    Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate,
    960Whither I go, thither shall you go too:
    To day will I set forth, to morrow you.
    Will this content you Kate?
    La. It must of force. Exeunt
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