No Fear Shakespeare
Henry IV Part 1
Get this No Fear to go!
Act 1, Scene 3, Page 9
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HOTSPUR
All studies here I solemnly defy,
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke.
And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales—
But that I think his father loves him not
And would be glad he met with some mischance—
I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale.
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HOTSPUR
From now on, all other pursuits I’ll cast aside, except for scheming how to aggravate this Bolingbroke and his son, the lowlife Prince of Wales. If it weren’t for the fact that I suspect Henry doesn’t love his son, and that he’d be glad to see misfortune befall him, I’d poison the Prince’s ale.
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WORCESTER
Farewell, kinsman. I’ll talk to you
When you are better tempered to attend.
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WORCESTER
Goodbye, nephew. I’ll talk to you when you’re in a better mood to listen.
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NORTHUMBERLAND
(to HOTSPUR) Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
Art thou to break into this woman’s mood,
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
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NORTHUMBERLAND
(to HOTSPUR)You are an impatient and short-tempered fool to
start nattering on like a woman, not listening to any voice but your own!
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HOTSPUR
Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with rods,
Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard’s time—what do you call the place?
A plague upon it! It is in Gloucestershire.
'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
His uncle York; where I first bowed my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke.
'Sblood, when you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
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HOTSPUR
Listen, I feel like I’m being whipped with sticks and stung by ants when I hear about this vile politician, Bolingbroke. When Richard was alive—what is that place called? Damn, it’s in Gloucestershire; it’s where that crazy duke’s uncle lived, his uncle York. It’s where I first met this lying Bolingbroke, and bowed to him.—Shoot!—It happened when you and Bolingbroke came back from Ravenspurgh.
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NORTHUMBERLAND
At Berkley Castle.
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NORTHUMBERLAND
At Berkley castle.
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HOTSPUR
You say true.
Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me:
“Look when his infant fortune came to age,”
And “gentle Harry Percy,” and “kind cousin.”
O, the devil take such cozeners!—God forgive me!
Good uncle, tell your tale. I have done.
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HOTSPUR
Right. What great courtesy that flattering dog paid me! “The promise of his childhood has come true,” he said. “Gentle Harry Percy,” he called me, and “kind kinsman.” To hell with liars like him! — I’m sorry. Uncle, go on. I’m done.
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