The FIRST PART of HENRY r IV. A C T I. SCENE I. The Court in London. Enter King Henry, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Weftmorland, and others. King HENRY. O fhaken as we are, fo wan with Care, So are, fo ghted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new Broils * Shall damp her lips----] This Nonsense should be read, Shall trempe, i. e. moiften, and refers to thirsty, in the preceding Line : Trempe, from the French, tremper, properly fignifies the Moiftness made by Rain. As far as to the fepulchre of Chrift, (Whofe foldier now, under whofe bleffed Cross But this our purpofe is a twelvemonth old, you we will go. Weft. My Liege, this hafte was hot in queftion, And many limits of the Charge fet down But yefternight: when, all athwart, there camé K. Henry. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the holy Land. Weft. This, matcht with other, did, my gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news Came from the North, and thus it did import. At Holmedon spent a fad and bloody hour: As As by discharge of their artillery, And pride of their contention, did take horse, K.Henry. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend, Betwixt that Holmedon, and this Seat of ours: Ten thousand bold Scots, three and twenty Knights, To beaten Dowglas, and the Earls of Athol, And is not this an honourable spoil? A gallant prize? ha, confin, is it not? Weft. In faith, a conqueft for a Prince to boaft of. K. Henry. Yea, there thou mak'ft me fad, and mak'ft me fin In Envy, that my lord Northumberland A fon, who is the theme of Honour's tongue: Of my young Harry. O could it be prov'd, Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, Το To his own use he keeps, and fends me word, Weft. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester, Malevolent to you in all afpects; Which makes him plume himfelf, and briftle up K. Henry. But I have fent for him to answer this; Coufin, on Wednesday next our Council we SCENE [Exeunt. II. An Apartment of the Prince's. Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff. Fal. NOW, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Henry. Thou art fo fat-witted with drinking old fack, and unbuttoning thee after fupper, and fleeping upon benches in the afternoon, that thou haft forgotten to demand That truly, which thou would't truly know. What a devil haft thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of fack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the figns of leaping-houses, and the blessed Sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata; I fee no reason why thou should't be fo fuperfluous, to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal. For we, that take purfes, go by the moon and seven stars, and not by Phabus, he, that wand'ring knight fo fair. And I pray thee, fweet wag, when thou art Kingas God fave thy Grace, (Majefty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none.) P. Henry. P. Henry. What! none? Fal. No, by my troth, not so much as will ferve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P.Henry. Well, how then? come,roundly,roundlyFal. Marry, then, fweet wag, when thou art King, let not us that are fquires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's booty. Let us be Diana's forefters, gentlemen of the fhade, minions of the Moon; and let men fay, we be men of good government, being governed as the Sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the Moon, under whofe countenance we- -fteal. P. Henry. Thou fay'ft well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of us, that are the Moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the Sea; being govern'd as the Sea is, by the Moon. As for proof, now: a purse of gold most resolutely fnatch'd on Monday night, and moft diffolutely spent on Tuesday morning; *got with fwearing, lay by; and spent with crying, bring in: now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the lord, thou fay'st true, lad: and is not mine Hoftefs of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the caftle; and is not a buff-jerkin a moft fweet robe of durance? Fal. How now, how now, mad wag; what, in thy quips and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff-jerkin? P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my Hoftefs of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou haft call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft. * got with fwearing, lay by ;] i. e. fwearing at the Paffengers they robbed, lay by your Arms; or rather, lay by was a Phrafe that then fignified ftand fill, addreffed to thofe who were preparing to rush forward. |