Henry IV Part 2

“A cup of wine that’s brisk and fine, And drink unto thee, leman mine, And a merry heart lives long-a

All the gentlewomen here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, which was never seen in such an assembly.

Be it known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it and to promise you a better.

But to stand stain’d with travel, and sweating with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else, putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be done but to see him.

First my fear, then my cur’sy, last my speech. My fear, is your displeasure, my cur’sy, my duty, and my speech, to beg your pardons.

I will lay odds that ere this year expire, We bear our civil swords and native fire As far as France. I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleas’d the King.

If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command me to use my legs? And yet that were but light payment, to dance out of your debt.

Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! “Where is the life that late I led?” say they. Why, here it is, welcome these pleasant days!

Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, And praise God for the merry year, When flesh is cheap and females dear, And lusty lads roam here and there

Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, And helter-skelter have I rode to thee, And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, And golden times, and happy news of price.

Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing, be merry!

He’s walk’d the way of nature, And to our purposes he lives no more.

Our coronation done, we will accite (As I before rememb’red) all our state, And (God consigning to my good intents) No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, God shorten Harry’s happy life one day!

The tide of blood in me Hath proudly flow’d in vanity till now; Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, Where it shall mingle with the state of floods, And flow henceforth in formal majesty.

Though no man be assur’d what grace to find, You stand in coldest expectation. I am the sorrier, would ’twere otherwise!

Yet weep that Harry’s dead, and so will I, But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears By number into hours of happiness.

By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away tonight. What, Davy, I say!

I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, and ’a shall laugh without intervallums.

I will not excuse you, you shall not be excus’d, excuses shall not be admitted, there is no excuse shall serve, you shall not be excus’d. Why, Davy!

It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men’s spirits and his. They, by observing him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turn’d into a justice-like servingman.

O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders!

Have you a ruffin that will swear, drink, dance, Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends, Unless some dull and favorable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

More would I, but my lungs are wasted so That strength of speech is utterly denied me. How I came by the crown, O God forgive, And grant it may with thee in true peace live!

Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity Is held from falling with so weak a wind That it will quickly drop;

That keep’st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night, sleep with it now! Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, As he whose brow with homely biggen bound Snores out the watch of night.

Thy due from me Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, Which nature, love, and filial tenderness Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.

You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me; Then plain and right must my possession be, Which I with more than with a common pain ’Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

Our navy is address’d, our power collected, Our substitutes in absence well invested, And every thing lies level to our wish. Only, we want a little personal strength;

The manner and true order of the fight This packet, please it you, contains at large.

The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.

There is not now a rebel’s sword unsheath’d, But Peace puts forth her olive every where. The manner how this action hath been borne Here at more leisure may your Highness read, With every course in his particular.

Therefore omit him not, blunt not his love, Nor lose the good advantage of his grace By seeming cold or careless of his will, For he is gracious if he be observ’d, He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for meting charity;

Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest terms? She either gives a stomach and no food— Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast And takes away the stomach—such are the rich, That have abundance and enjoy it not.

Do ye yield, sir? Or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have found’red ninescore and odd posts, and here, travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate valor, taken Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy.

Let them go. I’ll through Gloucestershire, and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, esquire. I have him already temp’ring between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away.

Against ill chances men are ever merry, But heaviness foreruns the good event. WEST. Therefore be merry, coz, since sudden sorrow Serves to say thus, some good thing comes tomorrow.

And though we here fall down, We have supplies to second our attempt; If they miscarry, theirs shall second them, And so success of mischief shall be born, And heir from heir shall hold his quarrel up Whiles England shall have generation.

But, my most noble Lord of Westmorland, I take not on me here as a physician, Nor do I as an enemy to peace Troop in the throngs of military men;

Hath the Prince John a full commission, In very ample virtue of his father, To hear and absolutely to determine Of what conditions we shall stand upon?

Most shallowly did you these arms commence, Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence. Strike up our drums, pursue the scatt’red stray; God, and not we, hath safely fought today.

That argues but the shame of your offense: A rotten case abides no handling.

That man that sits within a monarch’s heart And ripens in the sunshine of his favor, Would he abuse the countenance of the King,

Why not to him in part, and to us all That feel the bruises of the days before, And suffer the condition of these times To lay a heavy and unequal hand Upon our honors?

Yet, for your part, it not appears to me, Either from the King or in the present time, That you should have an inch of any ground To build a grief on.

a man can die but once, we owe God a death. I’ll ne’er bear a base mind. And’t be my dest’ny, so; and’t be not, so. No man’s too good to serve ’s prince, and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.

If the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snap at him: let time shape, and there an end.

Canst thou, O partial sleep, give then repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then (happy) low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

how chance’s mocks And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors!