# Henry IV Part 2 (1921) Yale/Text/Act I

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act I. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act I begin on page 124 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT FIRST
Scene One
[The Same]
Enter Lord Bardolph, at one door.
L. Bard. Who keeps the gate here? ho!
[Enter the Porter above.]
Where is the earl?
Port. What shall I say you are?
​L. Bard.Tell thou the earl That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
Port. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard: 4 Please it your honour knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer.
Enter Northumberland.
L. Bard.Here comes the earl.
North. What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now Should be the father of some stratagem. 8 The times are wild; contention, like a horse Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose And bears down all before him.
L. Bard.Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. 12
North. Good, an God will!
L. Bard.As good as heart can wish. The king is almost wounded to the death; And, in the fortune of my lord your son, Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts 16 Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, Is prisoner to your son: O! such a day, 20 So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won, Came not till now to dignify the times Since Cæsar's fortunes.
North.How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? 24
L. Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; ​A gentleman well bred and of good name, That freely render'd me these news for true.
North. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent 28 On Tuesday last to listen after news.
L. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; And he is furnish'd with no certainties More than he haply may retail from me. 32
Enter Trovers.
North. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd, Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard 36 A gentleman, almost forspent 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. 40 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 44 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.
North.Ha! Again: 48 Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion Had met ill luck?
L. Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what: If my young lord your son have not the day, 52 ​Upon mine honour, for a silken point I'll give my barony: never talk of it.
North. Why should the gentleman that rode by Travers Give then such instances of loss?
L. Bard.Who, he? 56 He was some hilding fellow that had stolen The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
Enter Morton.
North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 60 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood Hath left a witness'd usurpation. Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? 64
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask To fright our party.
North.How doth my son, and brother? Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek 68 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, 72 And would have told him half his Troy was burn'd; But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; 76 Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas'; Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed, Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, 80 ​Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.'
Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; But, for my lord your son,—
North.Why, he is dead.— See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! 84 He that but fears the thing he would not know Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton: Tell thou thy earl his divination lies, 88 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 fears too certain. 92
North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. I see a strange confession in thine eye: Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; 96 The tongue offends not that reports his death: And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, Not he which says the dead is not alive. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news 100 Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departing friend.
L. Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. 104
Mor. I am sorry I should force you to believe That which I would to God I had not seen; But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd, 108 To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, ​From whence with life he never more sprung up. In few, his death,—whose spirit lent a fire 112 Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,— Being bruited once, took fire and heat away From the best-temper'd courage in his troops; For from his metal was his party steel'd; 116 Which once in him abated, all the rest Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: And as the thing that's heavy in itself, Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, 120 So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, 124 Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword Had three times slain the appearance of the king, 128 'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame Of those that turn'd their backs; and in his flight, Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all Is, that the king hath won, and hath sent out 132 A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, Under the conduct of young Lancaster And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.
North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn. 136 In poison there is physic; and these news, Having been well, that would have made me sick, Being sick, have in some measure made me well: And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, 140 ​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, 144 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! Thou art a guard too wanton for the head 148 Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. Now bind my brows with iron; and approach The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! 152 Let heaven kiss earth! now let not nature's hand Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die! And let this world no longer be a stage To feed contention in a lingering act; 156 But let one spirit of the first-born Cain Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, And darkness be the burier of the dead! 160
Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.
L. Bard. Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er 164 To stormy passion, must perforce decay. ​You cast the event of war, my noble lord, And summ'd the account of chance, before you said, 'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise 168 That in the dole of blows your son might drop: You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, More likely to fall in than to get o'er; You were advis'd his flesh was capable 172 Of wounds and scars, 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 restrain 176 The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, More than that being which was like to be?
L. Bard. We all that are engaged to this loss 180 Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one; And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd; 184 And since we are o'erset, venture again. Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
Mor. 'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, 188 The gentle Archbishop of York is up, With well-appointed powers: he is a man Who with a double surety binds his followers. My lord your son had only but the corpse, 192 But shadows and the shows of men to fight; For that same word, rebellion, did divide The action of their bodies from their souls; ​And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, 196 As men drink potions, that their weapons only Seem'd on our side: but, for their spirits and souls, This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop 200 Turns insurrection to religion: Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts, He's follow'd both with body and with mind, And doth enlarge his rising with the blood 204 Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones; Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; 208 And more and less do flock to follow him.
North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, This present grief had wip'd it from my mind. Go in with me; and counsel every man 212 The aptest way for safety and revenge: Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt.
Scene Two
[London. A Street]
Enter Sir John [Falstaff,] with his Page bearing his sword and buckler.
Fal. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water; but, for the party that owed it, 4 he might have moe diseases than he knew for.
​Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything that tends 8 to laughter, more than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath overwhelmed all 12 her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. Thou whore- son mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my 16 cap than to wait at my heels. I was never manned with an agate till now; but I will set you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for a 20 jewel; the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick 24 to say, his face is a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, it is not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still as a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he'll 28 be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about the 32 satin for my short cloak and my slops?
Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph; he would not ​take his bond and yours: he liked not the 36 security.
Fal. Let him be damned like the glutton! Pray God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achito- phel! a rascally yea-forsooth knave! to bear a 40 gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security. The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear noth- ing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is through with them in 44 honest taking up, then they must stand upon security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with security. I looked a' should have sent me two and twenty 48 yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, he may sleep in secur- ity; for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it: and yet 52 cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. Where's Bardolph?
Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. 56
Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. 60
Enter Chief Justice and Servant.
Page. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the prince for striking him about Bardolph.
Fal. Wait close; I will not see him. 64
​Ch. Just. What's he that goes there?
Ser. Falstaff, an 't please your lordship.
Ch. Just. He that was in question for the robbery? 68
Ser. He, my lord; but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. 72
Ch. Just. What, to York? Call him back again.
Ser. Sir John Falstaff!
Fal. Boy, tell him I am deaf. 76
Page. You must speak louder, my master is deaf.
Ch. Just. I am sure he is, to the hearing of anything good. Go, pluck him by the elbow; I 80 must speak with him.
Ser. Sir John!
Fal. What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? is there not employment? doth not 84 the king lack subjects? do not the rebels want soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name 88 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 knighthood and my soldier- 92 ship aside, I had lied in my throat if I had said so.
Ser. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your soldiership aside, and give me leave to 96 ​tell you you lie in your throat if you say I am any other than an honest man.
Fal. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that which grows to me! If thou gett'st 100 any leave of me, hang me: if thou takest leave, thou wert better be hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt!
Ser. Sir, my lord would speak with you. 104
Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.
Fal. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lord- 108 ship abroad; I heard say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish 112 of the saltness of time; and I most humbly be- seech your lordship to have a reverend care of your health.
Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your 116 expedition to Shrewsbury.
Fal. An 't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is returned with some discomfort from Wales. 120
Ch. Just. I talk not of his majesty. You would not come when I sent for you.
Fal. And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into this same whoreson apoplexy. 124
Ch. Just. Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with you.
Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an 't please your lordship; a kind of 128 sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.
​Ch. Just. What tell you me of it? be it as it is.
Fal. It hath it original from much grief, 132 from study and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness.
Ch. Just. I think you are fallen into the dis- 136 ease, for you hear not what I say to you.
Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an 't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled 140 withal.
Ch. Just. To punish you by the heels would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician. 144
Fal. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your 148 prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.
Ch. Just. I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak 152 with me.
Fal. As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. 156
Ch. Just. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.
Fal. He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. 160 ​Ch. Just. Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.
Fal. I would it were otherwise: I would my means were greater and my waist slenderer. 164
Ch. Just. You have misled the youthful prince.
Fal. The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. 168
Ch. Just. Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gads- hill: you may thank the unquiet time for your 172 quiet o'er-posting that action.
Fal. My lord!
Ch. Just. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a sleeping wolf. 176
Fal. To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox.
Ch. Just. What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt out. 180
Fal. A wassail candle, my lord; all tallow: if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
Ch. Just. There is not a white hair on your 184 face but should have his effect of gravity.
Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.
Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. 188
Fal. Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light, but I hope he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go, I cannot tell. Virtue is of 192 ​so little regard in these costermonger times that true valour is turned bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the other gifts apperti- 196 nent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young; you measure the heat of our livers with 200 the bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too.
Ch. Just. Do you set down your name in the 204 scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not 208 your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity, and will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! 212
Fal. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. 216 To approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgment and under- standing; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, 220 and have at him! For the box o' the ear that the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have ​checked him for it, and the young lion repents; 224 marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
Ch. Just. Well, God send the prince a better companion! 228
Fal. God send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my hands of him.
Ch. Just. Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry. I hear you are going with 232 Lord John of Lancaster against the archbishop and the Earl of Northumberland.
Fal. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you pray, all you that kiss my lady 236 Peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, and I brandish anything but 240 my bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I can- not last ever. But it was always yet the trick of 244 our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name were not so terrible to the 248 enemy as it is: I were better to be eaten to death with rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; and 252 God bless your expedition.
Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth?
Ch. Just. Not a penny; not a penny; you are 256 ​too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my cousin Westmoreland.
[Exeunt Chief Justice and Servant.]
Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man can no more separate age and covetous- 260 ness than a' can part young limbs and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! 264
Page. Sir!
Fal. What money is in my purse?
Page. Seven groats and twopence.
Fal. I can get no remedy against this con- 268 sumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the Earl of Westmore- 272 land; and this to old Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. About it: you know where to find me. A pox of this gout! 276 or, a gout of this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more 280 reasonable. A good wit will make use of any- thing; I will turn diseases to commodity. Exeunt.
Scene Three
[York. The Archbishop's Palace]
Enter Archbishop, Hastings, Mowbray, and Lord Bardolph.
Arch. Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it? 4
Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms; But gladly would be better satisfied How in our means we should advance ourselves To look with forehead bold and big enough 8 Upon the power and puissance of the king.
Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file To five-and-twenty thousand men of choice; And our supplies live largely in the hope 12 Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns With an incensed fire of injuries.
L. Bard. The question, then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus: Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand 16 May hold up head without Northumberland.
Hast. With him, we may.
L. Bard.Ay, marry, there's the point: But if without him we be thought too feeble, My judgment is, we should not step too far 20 Till we had his assistance by the hand; For in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this, Conjecture, expectation, and surmise Of aids incertain should not be admitted. 24
​Arch. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for, indeed It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.
L. Bard. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply, 28 Flattering himself with project of a power Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts; And so, with great imagination Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, 32 And winking leap'd into destruction.
Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
L. Bard. Yes, if this present quality of war,— 36 Indeed the instant action,—a cause on foot, Lives so in hope, as in an early spring We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit, Hope gives not so much warrant as despair 40 That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; And when we see the figure of the house, Then must we rate the cost of the erection; 44 Which if we find outweighs ability, What do we then but draw anew the model In fewer offices, or at last desist To build at all? Much more, in this great work,— 48 Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down And set another up,—should we survey The plot of situation and the model, Consent upon a sure foundation, 52 Question surveyors, know our own estate, How able such a work to undergo, To weigh against his opposite; or else, ​We fortify in paper, and in figures, 56 Using the names of men instead of men: Like one that draws the model of a house Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost 60 A naked subject to the weeping clouds, And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.
Hast. Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd 64 The utmost man of expectation; I think we are a body strong enough, Even as we are, to equal with the king.
L. Bard. What! is the king but five-and-twenty thousand? 68
Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads: one power against the French, And one against Glendower; perforce, a third 72 Must take up us: so is the unfirm king In three divided, and his coffers sound With hollow poverty and emptiness.
Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together 76 And come against us in full puissance, Need not be dreaded.
Hast.If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh Baying him at the heels: never fear that. 80
L. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
Hast. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; ​Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: But who is substituted 'gainst the French 84 I have no certain notice.
Arch.Let us on And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; Their over-greedy love hath surfeited. 88 A habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke 92 Before he was what thou wouldst have him be: And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. 96 So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard, And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times? 100 They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die, Are now become enamour'd on his grave: Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head, When through proud London he came sighing on 104 After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, Cry'st now, 'O earth! yield us that king again, And take thou this!' O, thoughts of men accurst! Past and to come seem best; things present worst. 108
Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers and set on?
Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. [Exeunt.]
Footnotes to Act I
Scene One
​2 What: who ​3 attend: await 4 orchard: garden 13 an: if 19 brawn: the fleshy part of the body, especially the buttocks or the calf of the leg 21 follow'd: carried through ​30 over-rode: passed 37 forspent: exhausted 43 able: active 48 Staying: awaiting question: talk ​53 point: lacing, garter 57 hilding: worthless 62 strond: shore 63 witness'd usurpation: traces of its usurpation 69 apter: more ready ​87 is chanced: has happened 108 quittance: return of blows ​112 In few: in short 114 bruited: rumored 116-118 Cf. n. 128 Cf. n. 129 'Gan vail his stomach: began to lower his arrogant spirit did grace: reflected credit on, set in a good light ​141 buckle: bend 144 grief: suffering grief: sorrow 145 nice: dainty, effeminate 147 sickly quoif: sick man's hood 148 wanton: effeminate 149 flesh'd: made fierce by combat as a dog fed only on flesh 151 ragged'st: roughest 161 strained passion: exaggerated emotion 163 complices: allies ​166-179 Cf. n. 166 cast the event: considered the outcome 168 make head: raise an army 169 dole: distribution 170 edge: dangerous narrow path 172 advis'd: aware 177 stiff-borne: obstinately carried out 180 engaged to: involved in 184 respect: consideration 190 well-appointed: well-equipped ​196 queasiness: squeamishness 204, 205 Cf. n. 204 enlarge: widen the scope or appeal 208 Bolingbroke; cf. n. 209 more and less: high and low 214 make: collect
Scene Two
​4 owed: owned ​6 gird: jeer 15 whoreson: a coarse term of endearment (as here) or of contempt (as in l. 30) 16 mandrake: a poisonous plant whose forked root was supposed to resemble the human form 18 manned with an agate; cf. n. 21 juvenal: used jocularly for 'youth' 25 face-royal; cf. n. 29 writ man: enrolled himself a man 33 slops: loose breeches ​38 glutton; cf. n. 39 Achitophel; cf. n. 40 yea-forsooth knave; cf. n. bear . . . in hand: delude with false hopes 42 smooth-pates: roundheads, or Puritanical citizen class 44 through: serious 45 taking up: obtaining goods on trust 48 a': he 51-54 Cf. n. 57 Paul's; cf. n. 61, 62 Cf. n. ​71 charge: military command ​102 hunt counter; cf. n. ​130 What: why 132 it: its 134 his: its 142 punish by the heels: commit to prison; originally, to the stocks 147 in respect of: on account of 155 land-service: military service ​166-168 Cf. n. 173 o'er-posting: getting over rapidly 181 wassail candle: large candle used at a feast 182 wax; cf. n. approve: prove 188 ill: evil 189-192 Cf. n. ​193 costermonger: commercial 194 bear-herd: one who leads about a tame bear pregnancy: readiness of wit 196 reckonings: bills 202 vaward: vanguard 210 single: thin 220 marks: a mark was worth about thirteen shillings ​226 sack: Spanish wine 241 spit white; cf. n. ​257 Cf. n. 259 Cf. n. 263 prevent: anticipate 267 groat: a coin worth fourpence 279 halt: limp 280 colour: excuse 282 commodity: merchandise to be sold at a profit
Scene Three
​10 file: muster roll 12 supplies: reinforcements ​27 lin'd: strengthened 29, 30 project . . . smaller: anticipation of an army actually much smaller 33 winking: with eyes closed 36-41 Cf. n. 43 figure: plan 47 offices: domestic quarters 53-55 Cf. n. ​60 part-created cost: costly fragment 62 churlish: rough 70 as . . . brawl: as the turbulent times dictate 81 like: probable ​91 fond many: foolish multitude 94 trimm'd . . . desires: supplied with what thou didst desire 109 draw: assemble