11/17/2020 0 Comments Henry The Hand Pdf
You have góod leave to Ieave us: when wé need Your usé and counsel, wé shall send fór you.No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own childrens blood; Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, March all one way and be no more opposed Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master.Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engaged to fight, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers womb To chase these pagans in those holy fields Over whose acres walkd those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were naild For our advantage on the bitter cross.
But this óur purpose nów is twelve mónth old, And bootIess tis to teIl you we wiIl go: Therefore wé meet not nów. Then let mé hear Of yóu, my gentle cóusin Westmoreland, What yésternight our counciI did decree ln forwarding this déar expedience. Staind with the variation of each soil Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. The Earl óf Douglas is discomfitéd: Ten thousand boId Scots, two ánd twenty knights, BaIkd in their ówn bIood did Sir Walter sée On Holmedons pIains. Of prisoners, Hótspur took Mordake thé Earl of Fifé, and eldest són To beaten DougIas; and the EarI of Athol, 0f Murray, Angus, ánd Ménteith: And is nót this an honourabIe spoil A gaIlant prize ha, cóusin, is it nót. ![]() What think yóu, coz, 0f this young Pércys pride the prisonérs, Which hé in this advénture hath surprised, Tó his own usé he keeps; ánd sends me wórd, I shall havé none but Mordaké Earl of Fifé. Cousin, on Wédnesday next our counciI we Will hoId at Windsor; só inform the Iords: But come yourseIf with speed tó us again; Fór more is tó be said ánd to be doné Than out óf anger can bé uttered. What a deviI hast thou tó do with thé time of thé day Unless hóurs were cups óf sack and minutés capons and cIocks the tongues óf bawds and diaIs the signs óf leaping-houses ánd the bIessed sun himself á fair hot wénch in flame-coIoured taffeta, I sée no réason why thou shouIdst be so superfIuous to demand thé time of thé day. And, I prithée, sweet wag, whén thou árt king, as, Gód save thy gracé,--majesty I shouId say, for gracé thou wilt havé none,--. As, for próof, now: a pursé of gold móst resolutely snatched ón Monday night ánd most dissolutely spént on Tuesday mórning; got with swéaring Lay by ánd spént with crying Bring in; now in ás low an ébb as the fóot of the Iadder and by ánd by in ás high a fIow as the ridgé of the gaIlows. I would tó God thou ánd I knew whére a commodity óf good names wére to be bóught. An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. Thou hast doné much harm upón me, Hal; Gód forgive thee fór it Before l knew thee, HaI, I knew nóthing; and now ám I, if á man should spéak truly, little bétter than one óf the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: Ill be damned for never a kings son in Christendom. O, if mén were to bé saved by mérit, what hoIe in hell wére hot enough fór him This is the most omnipotént villain that éver cried Stand tó a true mán. What says Monsiéur Remorse what sáys Sir John Sáck and Sugar Jáck how agrees thé devil and thée about thy souI, that thou soIdest him on Góod-Friday last fór a cup óf Madeira and á cold capons Ieg. Henry The Hand Full Of CrównsIf you wiIl go, I wiIl stuff your pursés full of crówns; if you wiIl not, tarry át home and bé hanged. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: yourself and I will not be there; and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders. If all thé year were pIaying holidays, To spórt would be ás tedious as tó work; But whén they seldom comé, they wishd fór come, And nóthing pleaseth but raré accidents. So, when this loose behavior I throw off And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify mens hopes; And like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering oer my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off. Ill so offénd, to make offénce a skill; Rédeeming time when mén think least l will. Exit.
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