Speeches (Lines) for Henry V
in "Henry IV, Part II"
Total: 60

1

II,2,945

Before God, I am exceeding weary.

2

II,2,949

Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion
my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me
desire small beer?

3

II,2,956

Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, by
troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But
indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with
greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name,
to know thy face to-morrow, or to take note how many pair of
stockings thou hast—viz., these, and those that were thy
peach-colour'd ones—or to bear the inventory of thy shirts-
one for superfluity, and another for use! But that the
tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb
linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thou
not done a great while, because the rest of thy low countries
have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows
those that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen shall inherit
kingdom; but the midwives say the children are not in the
whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily
strengthened.

4

II,2,986

Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?

5

II,2,988

It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than

6

II,2,992

Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad,
my father is sick; albeit I could tell to thee—as to one it
pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend—I could
sad and sad indeed too.

7

II,2,999

By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil's
as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the
try the man. But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly that my
father is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou art
in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.

8

II,2,1008

What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep?

9

II,2,1010

It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed
fellow to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought in
world keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would
me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
thought to think so?

10

II,2,1020

And to thee.

11

II,2,1030

And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A had him from me
Christian; and look if the fat villain have not transform'd
ape.

12

II,2,1035

And yours, most noble Bardolph!

13

II,2,1046

Has not the boy profited?

14

II,2,1049

Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?

15

II,2,1052

A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis,

16

II,2,1060

And how doth thy master, Bardolph?

17

II,2,1070

I do allow this well to be as familiar with me as my
and he holds his place, for look you how he writes.

18

II,2,1084

Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from
Japhet. But the letter: [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight,
the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of
greeting.'

19

II,2,1091

Peace! [Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans
brevity.'-

20

II,2,1095

[Reads] 'I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I
leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses
favours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sister
Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell.
Thine, by yea and no—which is as much as to say as
thou usest him—JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars,
JOHN with my brothers and sisters, and SIR JOHN with
all Europe.'

21

II,2,1107

That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you
me thus, Ned? Must I marry your sister?

22

II,2,1112

Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the
of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master
London?

23

II,2,1118

Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

24

II,2,1120

What company?

25

II,2,1122

Sup any women with him?

26

II,2,1125

What pagan may that be?

27

II,2,1128

Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town
Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

28

II,2,1132

Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master
I am yet come to town. There's for your silence.

29

II,2,1137

Fare you well; go. Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE
This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.

30

II,2,1142

How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in
true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

31

II,2,1148

From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It was Jove's
case. From a prince to a prentice? A low transformation! That
shall be mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh with
folly. Follow me, Ned.

32

II,4,1545

Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

33

II,4,1547

Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.

34

II,4,1553

Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says
almanac to that?

35

II,4,1574

[with POINS:] Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]

36

II,4,1578

Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost
lead!

37

II,4,1583

Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.

38

II,4,1594

YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

39

II,4,1601

Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
Gadshill. You knew I was at your back, and spoke it on
try my patience.

40

II,4,1607

I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and
then I know how to handle you.

41

II,4,1610

Not to dispraise me, and call me pander, and
bread-chipper, and I know not what!

42

II,4,1623

See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth
make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us?
she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is
boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in
nose, of the wicked?

43

II,4,1640

For the women?

44

II,4,1657

You, gentlewoman—

45

II,4,1664

Peto, how now! What news?

46

II,4,1671

By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.

47

IV,5,2895

Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

48

IV,5,2897

How now! Rain within doors, and none abroad!
How doth the King?

49

IV,5,2900

Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.

50

IV,5,2902

If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic.

51

IV,5,2907

No; I will sit and watch here by the King.
[Exeunt all but the PRINCE]
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
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. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day
That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather which stirs not.
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
So many English kings. 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.
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it
Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength
Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honour from me. This from thee
Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit

52

IV,5,2987

I never thought to hear you speak again.

53

IV,5,3034

O, pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,
The moist impediments unto my speech,
I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
The course of it so far. There is your crown,
And he that wears the crown immortally
Long guard it yours! [Kneeling] If I affect it more
Than as your honour and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
Which my most inward true and duteous spirit
Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending!
God witness with me, when I here came in
And found no course of breath within your Majesty,
How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
O, let me in my present wildness die,
And never live to show th' incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed!
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead-
And dead almost, my liege, to think you were-
I spake unto this crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in med'cine potable;
But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,
Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it—as with an enemy
That had before my face murd'red my father—
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let God for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the poorest vassal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!

54

IV,5,3116

My gracious liege,
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.
Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others

55

IV,5,3129

My Lord of Warwick!

56

V,2,3311

You all look strangely on me; and you most.
You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

57

V,2,3315

No?
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison,
Th' immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten?

58

V,2,3350

You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore still bear the balance and the sword;
And I do wish your honours may increase
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words:
'Happy am I that have a man so bold
That dares do justice on my proper son;
And not less happy, having such a son
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me;
For which I do commit into your hand
Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this remembrance—that you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.
You shall be as a father to my youth;
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practis'd wise directions.
And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you,
My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his spirits sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world,
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. 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.
Now call we our high court of parliament;
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd nation;
That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us;
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
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. Exeunt

59

V,5,3636

My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man.

60

V,5,3640

I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.
How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
I have long dreamt of such a kind of man,
So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane;
But being awak'd, I do despise my dream.
Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;
Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape
For thee thrice wider than for other men—
Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;
Presume not that I am the thing I was,
For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,
That I have turn'd away my former self;
So will I those that kept me company.
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
The tutor and the feeder of my riots.
Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
Not to come near our person by ten mile.
For competence of life I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evils;
And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,
To see perform'd the tenour of our word.
Set on. Exeunt the KING and his train