In those holy fields

Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
For our advantage on the bitter cross.

King Henry IV., Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon.

Old father antic the law.

Act i. Sc. 2.

Ibid.

I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought.

Thou hast damnable iteration.

Ibid.

Ibid.

And now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked.

Ibid.

'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.

He will give the devil his due.

Ibid.

Ibid.

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellow

ship in thee.

If all the year were playing holidays,

Ibid.

To sport would be as tedious as to work.

Ibid.

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reaped
Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home;

He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He

gave his nose and took 't away again.

Act i. Sc. 3.

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

Ibid.

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,
This villanous saltpetre should be digged
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,

He would himself have been a soldier.

King Henry IV., Part I. Act i. Sc. 3. The blood more stirs

To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,

To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

Ibid.

Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. Ibid.
I know a trick worth two of that.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.

Falstaff sweats to death,

And lards the lean earth as he walks along.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Brain him with his lady's fan.

Ibid.

A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. Act ii. Sc. 4. A plague of all cowards, I say.

Ibid.

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old.

Ibid.

Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! King Henry IV., Part I.

I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

Ibid.

I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward; here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me—

Ibid.

Three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green.

Ibid.

Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

Ibid.

Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Ibid.

I was now a coward on instinct.

Ibid.

No more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!

Ibid.

What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight?

Ibid.

A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up

like a bladder.

Ibid.

In King Cambyses' vein.

Ibid.

Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.

Ibid.

Play out the play.

Ibid.

O monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!

In strange eruptions.

Ibid.

Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth

Act ui. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

I am not in the roll of common men.

Glen. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?

King Henry IV., Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers.

Ibid.

Ibid.

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibia.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

A deal of skimble-skamble stuff.

A good mouth-filling oath.

A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.

Ibid.

An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil

of me.

Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn?

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Rob me the exchequer.

This sickness doth infect

The very life-blood of our enterprise.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

That daffed the world aside,

And bid it pass.

Ibid.

All plumed like estridges that with the wind.

Baited like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May.

Ibid.

I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus

And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

King Henry IV., Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.

The cankers of a calm world and a long peace.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves. Ibid.

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better.

Ibid.

I would 't were bedtime, Hal, and all well. Act v. Sc. 1.

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? 'T is insensible, then. Yea, to the dead. But

no.