PRINCE HENRY.

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph.

FALSTAFF.

Act 5, Sc. 4, l. 98.

The better part of valour is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.

FALSTAFF.

Act 5, Sc. 4, l. 118.

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!

Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend.

FALSTAFF.

Act 1, Sc. 1, l. 100.

Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent any thing that tends 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. Act 1, Sc. 2, 1. 5.

CHIEF-JUSTICE.

Every part about you blasted with antiquity.

FALSTAFF.

Act 1, Sc. 2, l. 164.

I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.

DOLL.

Act 1, Sc. 2, l. 211.

When wilt thou leave fighting o' days, and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

Act 2, Sc. 4, l. 198.

PRINCE HENRY.

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

Act 2, Sc. 4, l. 251.

FALSTAFF.

His face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen.

KING HENRY.

Act 2, Sc. 4, 1. 295.

O sleep, O gentle sleep,

Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee

That thou no more wilt weigh mine eyelids down

And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slum

ber,

Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?

O thou dull god! why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch case, or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge

And in the visitation of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafening clamour in the slipp'ry clouds,
That with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

KING HENRY.

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand

Open as day for melting charity.

KING HENRY.

Act 3, Sc. 1, l. 5.

Act 4, Sc. 4, 1. 31.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

PISTOL.

Act 4, Sc. 5, l. 94.

Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?

FALSTAFF.

Act 5, Sc. 3, 1. 95.

Let us take any man's horses, the laws of

England are at my commandment.

Act 5, Sc. 3, l. 126.

KING HENRY V.

CANTERBURY.

When he speaks,

The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences.

NYM.

Act 1, Sc. 1, l. 47.

Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will

plod.

KING HENRY.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 20.

If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, He might return to vasty Tartar back,

And tell the legions,

I can never win

A soul so easy as that Englishman's.

O how hast thou with jealousy infected

The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?

Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and

learned?

Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family?
Why, so didst thou: seem they religious?

Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet,
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
Not working with the eye without the ear,
And but in purged judgment trusting neither?
Such and so finely bolted, didst thou seem;
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,

To mark the full-fraught man, and best indued
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like

Another fall of man.

PISTOL.

Act 2, Sc. 2, l. 121.

Falstaff he is dead, and we must yearn there

fore.

EXETER.

Act 2, Sc. 3, 1. 5.

That you may know

'Tis no sinister, nor no awkward claim,

Pick'd from the worm holes of long-vanish'd

days

Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd,

He sends you this most memorable line.

KING HENRY.

Act 2, Sc. 4, l. 86.

Once more into the breach, dear friends, once

more;

Or close the wall up with our English dead.

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness and humility;

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wide and wasteful ocean.