Internet Shakespeare Editions

Toolbox




Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • Title: Henry IV, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1600)
  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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, 1600)

    Henry the fourth.
    1130house, nor no cheter, but I do not loue swagering by my troth,
    I am the worse when one saies swagger: feele maisters, how I
    shake, looke you, I warrant you.
    Teresh. So you do hostesse.
    Host. Doe I? yea in very trueth doe I, and twere an aspen
    1135leafe, I cannot abide swaggrers.
    Enter antient Pistol, and Bardolfes boy.
    Pistol God saue you sir Iohn.
    Fal. Welcome ancient Pistoll, heere Pistoll, I charge you
    with a cuppe of sacke, do you discharge vpon mine hostesse.
    Pist. I will discharge vpon her sir Iohn, with two bullets.
    Fal. shhe is pistoll proofe: sir, you shall not hardely offend
    1145Host. Come, Ile drink no proofes, nor no bullets, Ile drink
    no more than will do me good, for no mans pleasure, I.
    Pist. Then, to you mistris Dorothy, I will charge you.
    1150Doro. Charge me? I scorne you, scuruy companion: what
    you poore base rascally cheting lacke-linnen mate? away you
    mouldie rogue, away, I am meate for your maister.
    Pist. I know you mistris Dorothy.
    1155Doro. Away you cutpurse rascall, you filthy boung, away,
    by this wine Ile thrust my knife in your mouldie chappes, and
    you play the sawcie cuttle with me. Away you bottle ale ras-
    call, you basket hilt stale iuggler, you. Since when, I pray
    you sir: Gods light, with two points on your shoulder? much.
    Pist. God let me not liue, but I will murther your ruffe for
    this.
    1161.1sir Iohn No more Pistol, I would not haue you go off here,
    discharge your selfe of our company, Pistoll.
    Host. No, good captaine Pistoll, not here, sweete captaine.
    Doro. Captain, thou abhominable damnd cheter, art thou
    1165not ashamed to be called Captaine? and Captaines were of my
    mind, they would trunchion you out, for taking their names
    vpon you, before you haue earnd them: you a captaine? you
    slaue, for what? for teareing a poore whoores ruffe in a bawdy
    house: hee a captaine! hang him rogue, he liues vpon mowldy
    stewd