Chapter 1

Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they are presented herein:

Barnardo. Who's there? Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold your selfe

Bar. Long liue the King

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As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available . . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.

Michael S. Hart Project Gutenberg Executive Director

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Scanner's Notes:

What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions' best pages.

David Reed

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The Second Part of Henry the Fourth

Containing his Death: and the Coronation of King Henry the Fift

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

INDVCTION.

Enter Rumour.

Open your Eares: For which of you will stop The vent of Hearing, when loud Rumor speakes? I, from the Orient, to the drooping West (Making the winde my Post-horse) still vnfold The Acts commenced on this Ball of Earth. Vpon my Tongue, continuall Slanders ride, The which, in euery Language, I pronounce, Stuffing the Eares of them with false Reports: I speake of Peace, while couert Enmitie (Vnder the smile of Safety) wounds the World: And who but Rumour, who but onely I Make fearfull Musters, and prepar'd Defence, Whil'st the bigge yeare, swolne with some other griefes, Is thought with childe, by the sterne Tyrant, Warre, And no such matter? Rumour, is a Pipe Blowne by Surmises, Ielousies, Coniectures; And of so easie, and so plaine a stop, That the blunt Monster, with vncounted heads, The still discordant, wauering Multitude, Can play vpon it. But what neede I thus My well-knowne Body to Anathomize Among my houshold? Why is Rumour heere? I run before King Harries victory, Who in a bloodie field by Shrewsburie Hath beaten downe yong Hotspurre, and his Troopes, Quenching the flame of bold Rebellion, Euen with the Rebels blood. But what meane I To speake so true at first? My Office is To noyse abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell Vnder the Wrath of Noble Hotspurres Sword: And that the King, before the Dowglas Rage Stoop'd his Annointed head, as low as death. This haue I rumour'd through the peasant-Townes, Betweene the Royall Field of Shrewsburie, And this Worme-eaten-Hole of ragged Stone, Where Hotspurres Father, old Northumberland, Lyes crafty sicke. The Postes come tyring on, And not a man of them brings other newes Then they haue learn'd of Me. From Rumours Tongues, They bring smooth-Comforts-false, worse then True-wrongs. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lord Bardolfe, and the Porter.

L.Bar. Who keepes the Gate heere hoa? Where is the Earle? Por. What shall I say you are? Bar. Tell thou the Earle That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere

Por. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the Orchard, Please it your Honor, knocke but at the Gate, And he himselfe will answer. Enter Northumberland.

L.Bar. Heere comes the Earle

Nor. What newes Lord Bardolfe? Eu'ry minute now Should be the Father of some Stratagem; The Times are wilde: Contention (like a Horse Full of high Feeding) madly hath broke loose, And beares downe all before him

L.Bar. Noble Earle, I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury

Nor. Good, and heauen will

L.Bar. As good as heart can wish: The King is almost wounded to the death: And in the Fortune of my Lord your Sonne, Prince Harrie slaine out-right: and both the Blunts Kill'd by the hand of Dowglas. Yong Prince Iohn, And Westmerland, and Stafford, fled the Field. And Harrie Monmouth's Brawne (the Hulke Sir Iohn) Is prisoner to your Sonne. O, such a Day, (So fought, so follow'd, and so fairely wonne) Came not, till now, to dignifie the Times Since Cæsars Fortunes

Nor. How is this deriu'd? Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury? L.Bar. I spake with one (my L[ord].) that came fro[m] thence, A Gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely render'd me these newes for true

Nor. Heere comes my Seruant Trauers, whom I sent On Tuesday last, to listen after Newes. Enter Trauers.

L.Bar. My Lord, I ouer-rod him on the way, And he is furnish'd with no certainties, More then he (haply) may retaile from me

Nor. Now Trauers, what good tidings comes fro[m] you? Tra. My Lord, Sir Iohn Vmfreuill turn'd me backe With ioyfull tydings; and (being better hors'd) Out-rod me. After him, came spurring head A Gentleman (almost fore-spent with speed) That stopp'd by me, to breath his bloodied horse. He ask'd the way to Chester: And of him I did demand what Newes from Shrewsbury: He told me, that Rebellion had ill lucke, And that yong Harry Percies Spurre was cold. With that he gaue his able Horse the head, And bending forwards strooke his able heeles Against the panting sides of his poore Iade Vp to the Rowell head, and starting so, He seem'd in running, to deuoure the way, Staying no longer question

North. Ha? Againe: Said he yong Harrie Percyes Spurre was cold? (Of Hot-Spurre, cold-Spurre?) that Rebellion, Had met ill lucke? L.Bar. My Lord: Ile tell you what, If my yong Lord your Sonne, haue not the day, Vpon mine Honor, for a silken point Ile giue my Barony. Neuer talke of it

Nor. Why should the Gentleman that rode by Trauers Giue then such instances of Losse? L.Bar. Who, he? He was some hielding Fellow, that had stolne The Horse he rode-on: and vpon my life Speake at aduenture. Looke, here comes more Newes. Enter Morton.

Nor. Yea, this mans brow, like to a Title-leafe, Fore-tels the Nature of a Tragicke Volume: So lookes the Strond, when the Imperious Flood Hath left a witnest Vsurpation. Say Morton, did'st thou come from Shrewsbury? Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury (my Noble Lord) Where hatefull death put on his vgliest Maske To fright our party

North. How doth my Sonne, and Brother? Thou trembl'st; and the whitenesse in thy Cheeke Is apter then thy Tongue, to tell thy Errand. Euen such a man, so faint, so spiritlesse, So dull, so dead in looke, so woe-be-gone, Drew Priams Curtaine, in the dead of night, And would haue told him, Halfe his Troy was burn'd. But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue: And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it. This, thou would'st say: Your Sonne did thus, and thus: Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas, Stopping my greedy eare, with their bold deeds. But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed) Thou hast a Sigh, to blow away this Praise, Ending with Brother, Sonne, and all are dead

Mor. Dowglas is liuing, and your Brother, yet: But for my Lord, your Sonne

North. Why, he is dead. See what a ready tongue Suspition hath: He that but feares the thing, he would not know, Hath by Instinct, knowledge from others Eyes, That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet speake (Morton) Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies, And I will take it, as a sweet Disgrace, And make thee rich, for doing me such wrong

Mor. You are too great, to be (by me) gainsaid: Your Spirit is too true, your Feares too certaine

North. Yet for all this, say not that Percies dead. I see a strange Confession in thine Eye: Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it Feare, or Sinne, To speake a truth. If he be slaine, say so: The Tongue offends not, that reports his death: And he doth sinne that doth belye the dead: Not he, which sayes the dead is not aliue: Yet the first bringer of vnwelcome Newes Hath but a loosing Office: and his Tongue, Sounds euer after as a sullen Bell Remembred, knolling a departing Friend

L.Bar. I cannot thinke (my Lord) your son is dead

Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to beleeue That, which I would to heauen, I had not seene. But these mine eyes, saw him in bloody state, Rend'ring faint quittance (wearied, and out-breath'd) To Henrie Monmouth, whose swift wrath beate downe The neuer-daunted Percie to the earth, From whence (with life) he neuer more sprung vp. In few; his death (whose spirit lent a fire, Euen to the dullest Peazant in his Campe) Being bruited once, tooke fire and heate away From the best temper'd Courage in his Troopes. For from his Mettle, was his Party steel'd; Which once, in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselues, like dull and heauy Lead: And as the Thing, that's heauy in it selfe, Vpon enforcement, flyes with greatest speede, So did our Men, heauy in Hotspurres losse, Lend to this weight, such lightnesse with their Feare, That Arrowes fled not swifter toward their ayme, Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their safety) Fly from the field. Then was that Noble Worcester Too soone ta'ne prisoner: and that furious Scot, (The bloody Dowglas) whose well-labouring sword Had three times slaine th' appearance of the King, Gan vaile his stomacke, and did grace the shame Of those that turn'd their backes: and in his flight, Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The summe of all, Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath sent out A speedy power, to encounter you my Lord, Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancaster And Westmerland. This is the Newes at full

North. For this, I shall haue time enough to mourne. In Poyson, there is Physicke: and this newes (Hauing beene well) that would haue made me sicke, Being sicke, haue in some measure, made me well. And as the Wretch, whose Feauer-weakned ioynts, Like strengthlesse Hindges, buckle vnder life, Impatient of his Fit, breakes like a fire Out of his keepers armes: Euen so, my Limbes (Weak'ned with greefe) being now inrag'd with greefe, Are thrice themselues. Hence therefore thou nice crutch, A scalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele Must gloue this hand. And hence thou sickly Quoife, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, Which Princes, flesh'd with Conquest, ayme to hit. Now binde my Browes with Iron and approach The ragged'st houre, that Time and Spight dare bring To frowne vpon th' enrag'd Northumberland. Let Heauen kisse Earth: now let not Natures hand Keepe the wilde Flood confin'd: Let Order dye, And let the world no longer be a stage To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act: But let one spirit of the First-borne Caine Reigne in all bosomes, that each heart being set On bloody Courses, the rude Scene may end, And darknesse be the burier of the dead

L.Bar. Sweet Earle, diuorce not wisedom from your Honor

Mor. The liues of all your louing Complices Leane-on your health, the which if you giue-o're To stormy Passion, must perforce decay. You cast th' euent of Warre (my Noble Lord) And summ'd the accompt of Chance, before you said Let vs make head: It was your presurmize, That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop. You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge More likely to fall in, then to get o're: You were aduis'd his flesh was capeable Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd, Yet did you say go forth: and none of this (Though strongly apprehended) could restraine The stiffe-borne Action: What hath then befalne? Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth, More then that Being, which was like to be? L.Bar. We all that are engaged to this losse, Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous Seas, That if we wrought out life, was ten to one: And yet we ventur'd for the gaine propos'd, Choak'd the respect of likely perill fear'd, And since we are o're-set, venture againe. Come, we will all put forth; Body, and Goods, Mor. 'Tis more then time: And (my most Noble Lord) I heare for certaine, and do speake the truth: The gentle Arch-bishop of Yorke is vp With well appointed Powres: he is a man Who with a double Surety bindes his Followers. My Lord (your Sonne) had onely but the Corpes, But shadowes, and the shewes of men to fight. For that same word (Rebellion) did diuide The action of their bodies, from their soules, And they did fight with queasinesse, constrain'd As men drinke Potions; that their Weapons only Seem'd on our side: but for their Spirits and Soules, This word (Rebellion) it had froze them vp, As Fish are in a Pond. But now the Bishop Turnes Insurrection to Religion, Suppos'd sincere, and holy in his Thoughts: He's follow'd both with Body, and with Minde: And doth enlarge his Rising, with the blood Of faire King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones, Deriues from heauen, his Quarrell, and his Cause: Tels them, he doth bestride a bleeding Land, Gasping for life, vnder great Bullingbrooke, And more, and lesse, do flocke to follow him

North. I knew of this before. But to speake truth, This present greefe had wip'd it from my minde. Go in with me, and councell euery man The aptest way for safety, and reuenge: Get Posts, and Letters, and make Friends with speed, Neuer so few, nor neuer yet more need.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Falstaffe, and Page.

Fal. Sirra, you giant, what saies the Doct[or]. to my water? Pag. He said sir, the water it selfe was a good healthy water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might haue more diseases then he knew for

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at mee: the braine of this foolish compounded Clay-man, is not able to inuent any thing that tends to laughter, more then I inuent, or is inuented on me. I am not onely witty in my selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I doe heere walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'rewhelm'd all her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Seruice for any other reason, then to set mee off, why then I haue no iudgement. Thou horson Mandrake, thou art fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeles. I was neuer mann'd with an Agot till now: but I will sette you neyther in Gold, nor Siluer, but in vilde apparell, and send you backe againe to your Master, for a Iewell. The Iuuenall (the Prince your Master) whose Chin is not yet fledg'd, I will sooner haue a beard grow in the Palme of my hand, then he shall get one on his cheeke: yet he will not sticke to say, his Face is a Face-Royall. Heauen may finish it when he will, it is not a haire amisse yet: he may keepe it still at a Face-Royall, for a Barber shall neuer earne six pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man euer since his Father was a Batchellour. He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said M[aster]. Dombledon, about the Satten for my short Cloake, and Slops? Pag. He said sir, you should procure him better Assurance, then Bardolfe: he wold not take his Bond & yours, he lik'd not the Security

Fal. Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a Rascally-yea-forsooth-knaue, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then stand vpon Security? The horson smooth-pates doe now weare nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at their girdles: and if a man is through with them in honest Taking-vp, then they must stand vpon Securitie: I had as liefe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should haue sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him. Where's Bardolfe? Pag. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse

Fal. I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd. Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant.

Pag. Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe

Fal. Wait close, I will not see him

Ch.Iust. What's he that goes there? Ser. Falstaffe, and't please your Lordship

Iust. He that was in question for the Robbery? Ser. He my Lord, but he hath since done good seruice at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some Charge, to the Lord Iohn of Lancaster

Iust. What to Yorke? Call him backe againe

Ser. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deafe

Pag. You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe

Iust. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him

Ser. Sir Iohn

Fal. What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is there not imployment? Doth not the K[ing]. lack subiects? Do not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Rebellion can tell how to make it

Ser. You mistake me Sir

Fal. Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting my Knight-hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had lyed in my throat, if I had said so

Ser. I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and your Souldier-ship aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you, you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an honest man

Fal. I giue thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a-side that which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you Hunt-counter, hence: Auant

Ser. Sir, my Lord would speake with you

Iust. Sir Iohn Falstaffe, a word with you

Fal. My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by aduise. Your Lordship (though not clean past your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rellish of the saltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health

Iust. Sir Iohn, I sent you before your Expedition, to Shrewsburie

Fal. If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maiestie is return'd with some discomfort from Wales

Iust. I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not come when I sent for you? Fal. And I heare moreouer, his Highnesse is falne into this same whorson Apoplexie

Iust. Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with you

Fal. This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling

Iust. What tell you me of it? be it as it is

Fal. It hath it originall from much greefe; from study and perturbation of the braine. I haue read the cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse

Iust. I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you heare not what I say to you

Fal. Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not Marking, that I am troubled withall

Iust. To punish you by the heeles, would amend the attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian Fal. I am as poore as Iob, my Lord; but not so Patient: your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of Pouertie: but how I should bee your Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe

Iust. I sent for you (when there were matters against you for your life) to come speake with me

Fal. As I was then aduised by my learned Councel, in the lawes of this Land-seruice, I did not come

Iust. Wel, the truth is (sir Iohn) you liue in great infamy Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, ca[n]not liue in lesse

Iust. Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great

Fal. I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes were greater, and my waste slenderer

Iust. You haue misled the youthfull Prince

Fal. The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fellow with the great belly, and he my Dogge

Iust. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound: your daies seruice at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded ouer your Nights exploit on Gads-hill. You may thanke the vnquiet time, for your quiet o're-posting that Action

Fal. My Lord? Iust. But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping Wolfe

Fal. To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox

Iu. What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out Fal. A Wassell-Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I did say of wax, my growth would approue the truth

Iust. There is not a white haire on your face, but shold haue his effect of grauity

Fal. His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy

Iust. You follow the yong Prince vp and downe, like his euill Angell

Fal. Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I hope, he that lookes vpon mee, will take mee without, weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go: I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costormongers, that true valor is turn'd Beare-heard. Pregnancie is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in giuing Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man (as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capacities of vs that are yong: you measure the heat of our Liuers, with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too