Wednesday, December 03, 2014

Shakespeare 7

From Wikipedia
Henry IV, Part 1 is a history play by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written no later than 1597. It is the second play in Shakespeare's tetralogy dealing with the successive reigns of Richard IIHenry IV (two plays, including Henry IV, Part 2), and Henry VHenry IV, Part 1 depicts a span of history that begins with Hotspur's battle at Homildon in Northumberland against the Douglas late in 1402, and ends with the defeat of the rebels atShrewsbury in the middle of 1403.[1] From the start it has been an extremely popular play both with the public and critics.[2]

illustration to 'Henry IV, Part I' IV, i, 108-9
by William Blake

"As if an angel dropped down from the clouds', illustration to 'Henry IV, Part I' IV, i, 108-9, formerly in an extra-illustrated second folio edition of Shakespeare (1632); a nude girl reclining on clouds with a book, 
a male angel and Pegasus below, sun rays behind. 1809 Pen and grey ink, and watercolour"

Here is some text from the play:
(Sir Richard Vernon  (c. 1389 – 1451) was an English landowner, MP and speaker of the House of  Commolns.

Hotspur is a nickname of Sir Henry Percy (1364–1403), known as Harry Hotspur, eldest son of the 1st Earl of Northumberland.
Prince Harry or Hal, a character in Shakespeare's Henry IV, part 1 and Henry IV, part 2, based on the future King Henry V)

 Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

  Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.
  Ver. Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
    The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
    Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
  Hot. No harm. What more?
  Ver. And further, I have learn'd
    The King himself in person is set forth,
 Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
    The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
    And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside
    And bid it pass?
  Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms;
    All plum'd like estridges that with the wind
    Bated like eagles having lately bath'd;
    Glittering in golden coats like images;
    As full of spirit as the month of May
    And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
    Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
    I saw young Harry with his beaver on
    His cushes on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,
    Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
    And vaulted with such ease into his seat
    As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds
    To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
    And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
  Hot. No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,
    This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come.
    They come like sacrifices in their trim,
    And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war
    All hot and bleeding Will we offer them.
    The mailed Mars Shall on his altar sit
    Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
    To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,
    And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
    Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt"


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