And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet: 'Would they were multitudes; and on my head ACT IV. ld bas dau A GALLANT WARRIOR. I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuissest on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch§ the world with noble horsemanship. HOTSPUR'S IMPATIENCE FOR THE BATTLE. Let them come; They come like sacrifices in their trim, And yet not ours:-Come, let me take my horse, + Part + Armour. • Bonds. Bewitch, charm. Who is to bear me, like a thunderbolt, Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a corse,-~O, that Glendower were come! ACT V. PRINCE HENRY'S MODEST CHALLENGE. Tell your nephew, The prince of Wales doth join with all the world And so, I hear, he doth account me too: FALSTAFF'S CATECHISM. Well, 'tis no matter: Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word? Honour. What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it:therefore I'll none of it. Honour is a mere escutcheon, and so ends my catechism. *Painted heraldry in funerals. LIFE DEMANDS ACTION. O gentlemen, the time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely were too long. Still ending at the arrival of an hour. PRINCE HENRY'S PATHETIC SPEECH ON THE Brave Percy, fare thee well. Ill weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! Is room enough:-This earth, that bears thee dead, If thou wert sensible of courtesy, I should not make so dear a show of zeal: ་་ KING HENRY IV. PART II. INDUCTION. RUMOUR. I, FROM the orient to the drooping west, Scarf, with which he covers Percy's face. And who but Rumour, who but only 1, That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, ACT I. CONTENTION, Contention, like a horse Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, POST MESSENGER. After him, came, spurring hard, A gentleman almost forespent with speed, That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him I did demand, what news from Shrewsbury. He told me, that rebellion had bad luck, And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold; With that, he gave his able horse the head, And, bending forward, struck his armed heels Against the panting sides of his poor jade Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so, He seem'd in running to devour the way, Staying no longer question. MESSENGER WITH ILL NEWS. This man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: So looks the strand, whereon the imperious flood Hath left a witness'd usurpation.† Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, • Exhausted. + An attestation of its ravage. So dull, so dead in look, so wo-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd. I see a strange confession in thine eye Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin. GREATER GRIEFS DESTROY THE LESS. As the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, Like strengthless hinges buckle under life, Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs, Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with grief, Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice crutch; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif,t THE FICKLENESS OF THE VULGAR. An habitation giddy and unsure th he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. + Cap. * Trifling. |