Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	henry_n	john_n	smell_v	91	3	16.9906	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A59501	K. Henry IV with the humours of Sir John Falstaff : a tragi-comedy as it is acted at the theatre in Little-Lincolns-Inn-Fields by His Majesty's servants : revived with alterations / written originally by Mr. Shakespear.	Betterton, Thomas, 1635?-1710.; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. King Henry IV. Part 1.	1700 (1700)	Wing S2928; ESTC R15771	43,964	58

K. HENRY IV. WITH THE HUMOURS OF Sir John Falstaff A TRAGI-COMEDY As it is Acted at the THEATRE in Litttle-Lincolns-Inn-Fields BY His Majesty's Servants Revived with Alterations Written Originally by Mr. Shakespear LONDON Printed for R. W. and Sold by John Deeve at Bernards-Inn-Gate in Holborn 1700. Newly Published The Practice of the Spiritual or Ecclesiastical Courts wherein is contained their Original Stile and Causes usually Tryed in them with the manner of Proving Wills in common Form of Law Together with the manner of Proceeding in Cases of Defamation Right of Patronage Dilapidation Criminal Causes c. The Second Edition Corrected By H. Conset Sold by Sold by John Deeve at Bernards-Inn-Gate in Holborn 〈◊〉 Dramatis Personae MEN. King Henry IV. Mr. Berry Prince of Wales Mr. Scudemore John Earl of Lancaster Second Son to King Henry Mr. Bayly Northumberland Mr. Boman Harry Percy Sirnamed Hotspur his Son Mr. Verbruggen Westmerland Mr. Pack Worcester Mr. Freeman Mortimer   Owen Glendower Mr. Hodgson Dowglas Mr. Arnold Sir Walter Blunt Mr. Trout Sir Richard Vernon Mr. Harris Sir John Falstaff The Prince's Companion Mr. Betterton Poins The Prince's Companion   Petto The Prince's Companion   Gadshill The Prince's Companion   Bardolph The Prince's Companion Mr. Bright Francis the Drawer Mr. Bowen WOMEN Katherine Percy Hotspur ' s Wife Mr. Boman Hostess Mr. Leigh Sheriff Carriers Chamberlain Travellers c. K. HENRY IV. WITH THE HUMOURS OF Sir JOHN FALSTAFF ACT I. SCENE I. Enter King Lord John of Lancaster Earl of Westmorland with others King SO shaken as we are so wan with Care Find we a time for frighted Peace to pant No more shall trenching War channel her Fields Nor bruise her Flowrets with the armed Hoofs Of Hostile Paces The edge of War like an ill-sheathed Knife No more shall cut his Master Then let me hear Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland What yesternight our Council did decree In forwarding this dear Expedience West My Liege This haste was hot in question And many limits of the Charge set down But yesternight When all athwart there came A Post from Wales loaden with heavy News Whose worst was That the Noble Mortimer Leading the Men of Heresordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken And a thousand of his People butchered Upon whose dead Corps there was such misuse Such beastly shameless transformation By those Welshwomen done as may not be Without much shame re-told or spoken of King It seems then that the tidings of this Broil Brake off our business for the Holy Land West This matcht with other like my gracious Lord Far more uneven and unwelcome News Came from the North and thus it did report On Holy-Rood day the gallant Hotspur there Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald That ever valiant and approved Scot At Holmedon met where they did spend A sad and bloody hour As by discharge of their Artillery And shape of likelihood the News was told For he that brought them in the very Heat And pride of their Contention did take Horse Uncertain of the issue any way King Here is a dear and true industrious Friend Sir Walter Blunt new lighted from his Horse And he hath brought us smooth and welcome News The Earl of Dowglas is discomfited Ten thousand bold Scots two and twenty Knights Balk't in their own Blood did Sir Walter see On Holmedon's Plains Of Prisoners Hotspur took Mordake Earl of Fife and eldest Son To beaten Dowglas and the Earl of Athol Of Marry Angus and Menteith And is not this an Honourable Spoyl A gallant Prize Ha Cousin is it not In faith it is West A Conquest for a Prince to boast of King Yea there thou mak'st me sad and mak'st me sin In envy that my Lord Northumberland Should be the Father of so blest a Son Whil'st I by looking on the Praise of him See Ryot and Dishonour stain the Brow Of my young Harry O that it could be prov'd That some Night-tripping Fairy had exchang'd In Cradle-cloaths our Children where they lay And call'd mine Percy his Plantagenet Then would I have his Harry and he mine But let him from my Thoughts What think you Coze Of this young Percie 's Pride The Prisoners Which he in this Adventure hath surpriz'd To his own use he keeps and sends me word I shall have none but Mardake Earl of Fife West This is his Uncles teaching This is Worcester Malevolent to you in all Aspects Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of Youth against your Dignity King But I have sent for him to answer this And for this cause a while me must neglect Our holy purpose to Jerusalem Cousin on Wednesday next our Council we will hold At Windsor so inform the Lords But come your self with speed to us again For more is to be said and to be done Than out of anger can be uttered West I will my Liege Exeunt SCENE II. Enter Henry Prince of Wales Sir John Falstaff Fal. Now Hal what time of day is it Lad Prince Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old Sack and unbuttoning thee after Supper and sleeping upon Benches in the afternoon that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know What a Devil hast thou to do with the time of the day unless Hours were Cups of Sack and Minutes Capons and Clocks the Tongues of Bawds I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day Fal. Indeed you came near me now Hal. For we that take Purses go by the Moon and seven Stars and not by Phoebus he that wandring Knight so fair And I pray thee sweet Wag when thou art King as God save thy Grace Majesty I should say for Grace thou wilt have none Prince What! none Fal. No not so much as will serve to be Prologue to an Egg and Butter Prince Well how then Come roundly roundly Fal. Marry then sweet Wag when thou art King let not us that are Squires of the Nights body be call'd Thieves of the Days Beauty Let us be Diana's Foresters Gentlemen of the Shade Minions of the Moon and let Men say we be Men of good Government being governed as the Sea is by our noble and chast Mistress the Moon under whose countenance we steal Prince Thou say'st well and it holds well too for the Fortune of us that are the Moons Men doth ebb and flow like the Sea being governed as the Sea is by the Moon as for proof Now a Purse of Gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning got with swearing Laid 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 ride of the Gallows Fal. Thou say'st true Lad And is not my Hostess of the Tavern a most sweet Wench Prince As is the Honey

proclaim'd By Richard that dead is the next of Blood Nor. He was I heard the Proclamation And then it was when the unhappy King Whose wrongs in us God pardon did set forth Upon his Irish Expedition From whence he intercepted did return To be depos'd and shortly murthered Wor. And for whose Death we in the Worlds wide mouth Live so scandaliz'd and foully spoken of Hot. But soft I pray you did King Richard then Proclaim my Brother Mortimer Heir to the Crown Nor. He did my self did hear it Hot. Nay then I cannot blame his Cousin King That wish'd him on the barren Mountains starv'd But shall it be that you that set the Crown Upon the Head of this forgetful Man And for his sake wore the detested Blot Of murtherous Subornations shall it be That you a world of Curses undergo Being the Agents or base second Means The Cords the Ladder or the Hangman rather O pardon if that I descend so low To shew the Line and the Predicament Wherein you range under this subtle King Shall it for shame be spoken in these Days Or fill up Chronicles in time to come That Men of your Nobility and Power Did gage them both in an unjust behalf As both of you God pardon it have done To put down Richard that sweet lovely Rose And plant this Thorn this Cancker Bullingbrook And shall it in more shame be further spoken That you are fool'd discarded and shook off By him for whom these Shames ye underwent No yet time serves wherein you may redeem Your banish'd Honours and restore your selves Into the good Thoughts of the World again Revenge the jeering and disdain'd Contempt Of this proud King who studies day and night To answer all the Debt he owes unto you Even with the bloody Payments of your Deaths Therefore I say Wor. Peace Cousin say no more And now I will unclasp a secret Book And to your quick conveying Discontents I 'le read your Matter deep and dangerous As full of peril and adventurous Spirit As to o're-walk a Current roaring loud On the unstedfast footing of a Spear Hot. If he fall in good night or sink or swim Send danger from the East unto the West So Honour cross in from the North to South And let them grapple The Blood more stirs To rowze a Lyon than to start a Hare Nor. Imagination of some great Exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of Patience Hot. By Heaven methinks it were an easie leap To pluck bright Honour from the pale-fac'd Moon Or dive into the bottom of the deep Where Fadom-line could never touch the ground And pluck up drown'd Honour by the Locks So he that doth redeem her thence might wear Without Co-rival all her Dignities But out upon this half-fac'd Fellowship Wor. He apprehends a world of Figures here But not the Form of what he should attend Good Cousin give me audience for a while And list to me Hot. I cry you mercy Wor. Those same Noble Scots That are your Prisoners Hot. I 'll keep them all By Heaven he shall not have a Scot of them No if a Scot would save his Soul he shall not I 'll keep them by this Hand Wor. You start away And lend no ear unto my Purposes Those Prisoners you shall keep Hot. Nay I will that 's flat He said he would not Ransom Mortimer Forbad my Tongue to speak of Mortimer But I will find him when he lies a sleep And in his Ear I ll holla Mortimer Nay I 'll have a Starling shall be taught to speak Nothing but Mortimer and give it him To keep his anger still in motion Wor. Hear you Cousin A word Hot. All Studies here I solemnly defie Save how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrook And that same Sword and Backler Prince of Wales But that I think his Father loves him not And would be glad he met with some Mischance I would have poyson'd him with a pot of Ale Wor. Farewell Kinsman I 'll talk to you When you are temperd to attend Nor. Why what a wasp-tongu'd and impatient Fool Art thou to break into this Womans mood Tying thine Ear to no Tongue but thine own Hot. Why look you I am whipt and scourg'd with rods Netled and stung with Pismires when I hear Of this vile Politician Bullingbrook In Richard's time What de' ye call the place A plague upon 't it is in Glocester-shire 'T was where the madcap Duke his Uncle kept His Uncle York where I first bow'd my Knee Unto the King of Smiles this Bullingbrook When you and he came back from Ravenspurg Nor. At Berkley Castle Hot. You say true Why what a gaudy deal of Curtesie This fawning Gray-hound then did proffer me Look when his infant Fortune came to age And gentle Harry Percy and kind Cousin O the Devil take such Cozeners God forgive me Good Uncle tell your tale for I have done Wor. Nay if you have not to 't again We 'll stay your leisure Hot. I have done insooth Wor. Then once more to your Scottish Prisoners Deliver them up without their Ransom streight And make the Dowglas Son your only mean For Powers in Scotland Which for divers Reasons Which I shall send you written he assur'd Will easily be granted to you my Lord. Your Son in Scotland being thus employ'd Shall secretly in the bosom creep Of that same noble Prelate well belov'd The Arch-Bishop Hot. Of York is 't not Wor. True who bears hard His Brothers death at Bristow the Lord Scroop I speak not this in estimation As what I think might be but what I know Is ruminated plotted and set down And only stays but to behold the face Of that occasion that shall bring it on Hot. I smell it Upon my Life it will do wondrous well Nor. Before the game 's a foot thou still lett'st slip Hot. Why it cannot choose but be a noble Plot And then the Power of Scotland and of York To joyn with Mortimer Ha. Wor. And so they shall Hot. In faith it is exceeding well aim'd Wor. And 't is no little Reason bids us speed To save our Heads by raising of a Head For bear our selves as even as we can The King will always think him in our debt And think we think our selves unsatisfied Till he hath found a time to pay us home And see already how he doth begin To make us strangers to his looks of love Hot. He does he does we 'll be reveng'd on him Wor. Cousin farewel No further go in this Than I by Letters shall direct your course When time is ripe which will be suddenly I 'll steal to Glendower and lo Mortimer Where you and Dowglas and our Powers at once As I will fashion it shall happily meet To bear our Fortunes in our own strong Arms Which now we hold at much uncertainty Nor. Farewell good Brother we shall thrive I trust Hot. Uncle adieu O let Hours be short Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport Exit