Act 2, Scene 1

Original Text

*Rochester. An inn yard. Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.* FIRST CARRIER. Heigh-ho! An it be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd. Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not pack'd. — What, ostler! OSTLER. *(within)* Anon, anon. FIRST CARRIER. I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point. Poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.

Modern English

*Rochester. An inn yard. A Carrier enters with a lantern.* FIRST CARRIER. Hey-ho! If it isn't four in the morning, I'll be hanged. The Big Dipper is over the new chimney, and our horse still isn't packed. — Hey, stableman! OSTLER. *(from within)* Coming, coming. FIRST CARRIER. Tom, please beat Cut's saddle, put a few wool tufts in the saddle-point. The poor nag is rubbed raw at the withers something terrible.

Original Text

*Enter another Carrier.* SECOND CARRIER. Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. FIRST CARRIER. Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose. It was the death of him. SECOND CARRIER. I think this be the most villanous house in all London road for fleas. I am stung like a tench. FIRST CARRIER. Like a tench! By the mass, there is ne'er a king christen could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.

Modern English

*Another Carrier enters.* SECOND CARRIER. The peas and beans here are as damp as a dog, and that's the surest way to give the poor nags worms. This place has been a wreck since Robin the stableman died. FIRST CARRIER. Poor fellow was never happy after the price of oats went up. That killed him. SECOND CARRIER. I think this is the most lousy inn on the whole London road for fleas. I'm stung like a freshwater fish. FIRST CARRIER. Like a fish! By the mass, no Christian king could have been bitten worse than I have since the first cockcrow.

Original Text

SECOND CARRIER. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we leak in your chimney, and your chamber-lye breeds fleas like a loach. FIRST CARRIER. What, ostler! Come away and be hang'd! Come away! SECOND CARRIER. I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing Cross. FIRST CARRIER. God's body! The turkeys in my pannier are quite starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! Hast thou never an eye in thy head? Canst not hear? An 'twere not as good deed as drink to break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hang'd! Hast no faith in thee?

Modern English

SECOND CARRIER. They won't even let us have a chamber pot, so we piss in the chimney, and the urine breeds fleas like minnows. FIRST CARRIER. Hey, stableman! Come on out and be hanged! Come on! SECOND CARRIER. I've got a side of bacon and two roots of ginger to deliver as far as Charing Cross. FIRST CARRIER. God's body! The turkeys in my basket are practically starved. Hey, stableman! Plague on you! Don't you have eyes in your head? Can't you hear? If breaking your skull weren't as good as a drink to me, call me a villain. Come on out and be hanged! Have you no faith?

Original Text

*Enter Gadshill.* GADSHILL. Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? FIRST CARRIER. I think it be two o'clock. GADSHILL. I prithee lend me this lantern to see my gelding in the stable. FIRST CARRIER. Nay, by God, soft! I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. GADSHILL. I pray thee lend me thine. SECOND CARRIER. Ay, when? Canst tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth he? Marry, I'll see thee hang'd first!

Modern English

*Gadshill enters.* GADSHILL. Good morning, carriers. What time is it? FIRST CARRIER. About two o'clock, I think. GADSHILL. Lend me this lantern, please, to see my horse in the stable. FIRST CARRIER. No, by God, easy! I know a trick worth two of that. GADSHILL. Then please lend me yours. SECOND CARRIER. Yeah, when? You think so? "Lend me your lantern," he says? I'd see you hanged first!

Original Text

GADSHILL. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? SECOND CARRIER. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen. They will along with company, for they have great charge. *Exeunt Carriers.* GADSHILL. What, ho! Chamberlain!

Modern English

GADSHILL. Carrier, when do you plan to reach London? SECOND CARRIER. Late enough that we'll need a candle to go to bed by, I'll warrant. Come on, neighbor Mugs, let's wake up the gentlemen. They want company on the road, since they're carrying valuables. *The Carriers exit.* GADSHILL. Hey there! Chamberlain!

Original Text

*Enter Chamberlain.* CHAMBERLAIN. At hand, quoth pickpurse. GADSHILL. That's even as fair as — "at hand, quoth the chamberlain"; for thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving direction doth from labouring: thou layest the plot how. CHAMBERLAIN. Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that I told you yesternight. There's a franklin in the Wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold. I heard him tell it to one of his company last night at supper — a kind of auditor; one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They are up already and call for eggs and butter. They will away presently.

Modern English

*The Chamberlain enters.* CHAMBERLAIN. "Right at hand," as the pickpocket says. GADSHILL. That's about as accurate as "right at hand, says the chamberlain"; for you differ no more from a pickpocket than giving directions does from doing the work — you plot how it's done. CHAMBERLAIN. Good morning, Master Gadshill. What I told you last night is still true. There's a franklin from the Weald of Kent who's brought three hundred marks in gold. I heard him tell one of his party last night at supper — some kind of accountant, who's also carrying a great deal, God knows what. They're up already and calling for eggs and butter. They'll be off shortly.

Original Text

GADSHILL. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' clerks, I'll give thee this neck. CHAMBERLAIN. No, I'll none of it. I pray thee keep that for the hangman; for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may. GADSHILL. What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! There are other Troyans that thou dream'st not of, the which for sport sake are content to do the profession some grace; that would (if matters should be look'd into) for their own credit sake make all whole.

Modern English

GADSHILL. Listen — if they don't meet with Saint Nicholas's clerks (highway robbers), you can have my neck. CHAMBERLAIN. No thanks. Save that for the hangman; I know you worship Saint Nicholas as truly as any dishonest man can. GADSHILL. What are you talking about, the hangman? If I hang, I'll make a heavy load on the gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and you know he's no starveling. Tut! There are other men of trade you know nothing of who, just for sport, are content to do the profession some honor; men who, if matters were ever investigated, would, for their own credit, make everything right.

Original Text

GADSHILL. I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms; but with nobility, and tranquillity, burgomasters and great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray; and yet, zounds, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the commonwealth, or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.

Modern English

GADSHILL. I'm not joined with foot-pad small-timers, with cheap club-wielding sixpenny muggers, none of these wild-mustachioed, purple-faced drunkards; but with nobility and tranquility, mayors and great financiers — men who can keep secrets, who'll strike sooner than speak, speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray. And yet, by God, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the commonwealth — or rather, they don't pray to her but prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and make her their loot.

Original Text

CHAMBERLAIN. What, the commonwealth their boots? Will she hold out water in foul way? GADSHILL. She will, she will! Justice hath liquor'd her. We steal as in a castle, cocksure. We have the receipt of fernseed, we walk invisible. CHAMBERLAIN. Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night than to fernseed for your walking invisible. GADSHILL. Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true man. CHAMBERLAIN. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. GADSHILL. Go to; "homo" is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave. *Exeunt.*

Modern English

CHAMBERLAIN. What, the commonwealth their loot? Will she keep them dry in muddy roads? GADSHILL. She will, she will! Justice has waterproofed her. We steal as if in a castle, dead-sure. We have the recipe of fern seed; we walk invisible. CHAMBERLAIN. No, by my faith, I think you owe more to the night than to fern seed for walking invisible. GADSHILL. Give me your hand. You'll have a share in our take, as I'm an honest man. CHAMBERLAIN. No, rather let me have it, since you're a dishonest thief. GADSHILL. Come on; "human being" is a common name for all men. Tell the stableman to bring my horse out. Farewell, you muddy knave. *They exit.*

King Henry IV, Part 1

Act 2, Scene 1

Act 2, Scene 1