Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.

I speak of peace, while covert Enmity,
Under the Smile of safety, wounds the world:
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the big year, swol'n with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it.-Induction.

North. See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
He that but fears the thing he would not know
Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes,
That what he fear'd is chanced.—Act 1, Sc. I.

North. 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.—Act 1, Sc. I.

Fal. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.-Act 1, Sc. 2.

Fal. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, has yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.-Act 1, Sc. 3.

Bar.

When we mean to build,

We first survey the plot, then draw the model;

And when we see the figure of the house,

Then must we rate the cost of the erection;

Which if we find outweighs ability,

What do we then but draw anew the model

In fewer offices, or at last desist

To build at all? Much more, in this great work,
(Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
And set another up,) should we survey

The plot of situation and the model,
Consent upon a sure foundation,

Question surveyors, know our own estate,
How able such a work to undergo,
To weigh against his opposite; or else
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men:

Like one that draws the model of a house

Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost,

A naked subject to the weeping clouds,

And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.-Act 1, Sc. 3.

Lost. He hath eaten me out of house and home.

Act 2, Sc. I.

King. How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my 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 slumber,

Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,

Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sound 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 visitations of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamour in the slippery 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.

Act 3, Sc. I.

War. There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd;
The which observ'd a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things,
As yet not come to life; which in their seeds,
And weak beginnings, lies untreasured.—Act 3, Sc. I

Shal. And is old Double dead?-Act 3, Sc. 2.

Fal. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish, and dull and crudy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery and delectable shapes; which, delivered o'er to the voice, (the tongue,) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme: it illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty

spirits muster me all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of sherris. -Act 4, Sc. 3.

King. How quickly nature falls into revolt,

When gold becomes her object!—Act 4, Sc. 4.

King. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb in the dead carrion.-Act 4, Sc. 4.

Prince. I never thought to hear you speak again.
King. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

Act 4, Sc. 4.

Fal. It is certain that either wise bearing, or ignorant carriage, is caught as men take diseases, one of another; therefore let men take heed of their company.—Act 5, Sc. I.

Fat. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

Pistol. Not the ill-wind which blows none to good.

Act 5, Sc. 3.

Pistol. Under which king, Bezonian? speak or die,

Act 5, Sc. 3.

King. I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers;
How ill white hairs become a fool and jester.

Act 5, Sc. 5.

Can.

KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

When he speaks,

The air, a charter'd libertine, is still. —Act 1, Sc. I.

Ely. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle ;
And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best,
Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.

Act 1, Sc. I.

West. Playing the mouse, in absence of the cat.

Cant.

So work the honey-bees;

Act 1, Sc. 2.

Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.—Act I, Sc. 2.

K. Hen.

'Tis ever common,

That men are merriest when they are from home.

Act 1, Sc. 2.

Pist. Base is the slave that pays.-Act 2, Sc. I.

K. Hen. Once more unto 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 wild and wasteful ocean.

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,