# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

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1

Henry IV, Part II
[Prologue, 1]

Rumour

2

Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace while covert emnity,
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, swoln 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 wav'ring multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory,
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,
Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? My office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
And that the King before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news
Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tongues
They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

2

Henry IV, Part II
[I, 1]

Lord Bardolph

44

Who keeps the gate here, ho? [The PORTER opens the gate]
Where is the Earl?

3

Henry IV, Part II
[I, 1]

Morton

121

I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
To fright our party.

4

Henry IV, Part II
[I, 1]

Morton

220

Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
The lives of all your loving complices
Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
You cast th' event of war, my noble lord,
And summ'd the account of chance before you said
'Let us make head.' It was your pre-surmise
That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
You knew he walk'd o'er perils on an edge,
More likely to fall in than to get o'er;
You were advis'd his flesh was capable
Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
Yet did you say 'Go forth'; and none of this,
Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth
More than that being which was like to be?

5

Henry IV, Part II
[I, 2]

Falstaff

585

I can get no remedy against this consumption of the
purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the
is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster;
to the Prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to
Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I
perceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. About it; you know
where to find me. [Exit PAGE] A pox of this gout! or, a
this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my
toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my
and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit
make use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.

6

Henry IV, Part II
[II, 1]

Lord Chief Justice

912

Where lay the King to-night?

7

Henry IV, Part II
[II, 2]

Henry V

1118

Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

8

Henry IV, Part II
[II, 3]

Lady Percy

1163

O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those who could speak low and tardily
Would turn their own perfection to abuse
To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd others. And him—O wondrous him!
O miracle of men!—him did you leave—
Second to none, unseconded by you—
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage, to abide a field
Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible. So you left him.
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others than with him! Let them alone.
The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

9

Henry IV, Part II
[II, 4]

Third Drawer

1244

Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
they'll come in straight.

10

Henry IV, Part II
[II, 4]

Falstaff

1633

The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable;
his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing
roast malt-worms. For the boy—there is a good angel about
but the devil outbids him too.

11

Henry IV, Part II
[III, 2]

Robert Shallow

1832

'A must, then, to the Inns o' Court shortly. I was
Clement's Inn; where I think they will talk of mad Shallow

12

Henry IV, Part II
[III, 2]

Robert Shallow

1837

By the mass, I was call'd anything; and I would have
anything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little
John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and
Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotsole man—you had not four
swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again. And I may say
you we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of
all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John,
and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

13

Henry IV, Part II
[III, 2]

Robert Shallow

1943

Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Where's the roll?
me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so,—so, so—yea,
marry, sir. Rafe Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let them
so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?

14

Henry IV, Part II
[III, 2]

Robert Shallow

1969

Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; know you where you
For th' other, Sir John—let me see. Simon Shadow!

15

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 3]

Prince John

2608

The heat is past; follow no further now.
Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
[Exit WESTMORELAND]
Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
When everything is ended, then you come.
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows' back.

16

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 4]

Henry IV

2758

Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,
Where is the Prince your brother?

17

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 5]

Henry V

2907

No; I will sit and watch here by the King.
[Exeunt all but the PRINCE]
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
As he whose brow with homely biggen bound
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day
That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather which stirs not.
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
So many English kings. Thy due from me
Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it
Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength
Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honour from me. This from thee
Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit

18

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 5]

Henry IV

2944

The Prince of Wales! Where is he? Let me see him.
He is not here.

19

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 5]

Prince Humphrey

2947

He came not through the chamber where we

20

Henry IV, Part II
[IV, 5]

Henry IV

2949

Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow?