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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    Dol. For Gods sake thrust him down staires, I cannot indure
    1210such a fustian rascall.
    Pist Thrust him downe staires, know we not Galloway
    nagges?
    Falst. Quaite him downe Bardolfe like a shoue-groat shil-
    ling, nay, and a doe nothing but speake nothing, a shall be no-
    1215thing here.
    Bard. Come, get you downe staires.
    Pist. What shall we haue incision? shall we imbrew? then
    death rocke me a sleepe, abridge my dolefull daies: why then
    let grieuons gastly gaping wounds vntwinde the sisters three,
    1220come Atropose I say.
    Host. Heres goodly stuffe toward.
    Falst. Giue me my rapier, boy.
    Dol I pray thee Iacke, I pray thee do not drawe.
    Fal. Get you downe staires.
    1225Host. Heres a goodly tumult, ile forsweare keeping house a-
    fore ile be in these tirrits and frights, so, murder I warant now,
    alas, alas, put vp your naked weapons, put vp your naked wea-
    pons.
    Dol. I pray thee Iack be quiet, the rascal's gone, ah you hor-
    1230son little vliaunt villaine you.
    Host. Are you not hurte i'th groyne? me thought a made a
    shrewd thrust at your belly.
    Fal. Haue you turnd him out a doores?
    Bar. Yea sir, the rascal's drunke, you haue hurt him sir i'th
    1235shoulder.
    Fal. A rascall to braue me?
    Dol A you sweet little rogue you, alas poore ape how thou
    sweatst, come let me wipe thy face, come on you horsone
    chops: a rogue, yfaith I loue thee, thou art as valorous as He-
    1240ctor of Troy, woorth fiue of Agamemnon, & ten times better
    then the nine Worthies, a villaine!
    Fal. Ah rascally slaue! I will tosse the rogue in a blanket.
    1245Dol Do and thou darst for thy heart, and thou dost, ile can-
    uas thee betweene a payre of sheetes.
    E Boy.