Took it in snuff:-and still he smiled and talked;
And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms

He questioned me: among the rest, demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
To be so pestered with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Answered neglectingly, I know not what;

He should, or he should not:-for he made me mad

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman
Of guns and drums and wounds, (God save the
mark!)

And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villanous saltpetre should be digged
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.-
This bald disjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answered indirectly, as I said:
And, I beseech you, let not his report

Come current for an accusation

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my

lord,

Whatever Harry Percy then had said,
To such a person, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably die, and never rise
To do him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he said, so he unsay it now.

K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, But with proviso and exception

That we, at our own charge, shall ransom

straight

His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betrayed
The lives of those that he did lead to fight
Against the great magician, damn'd Glendower
(Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March
Hath lately married). Shall our coffers, then,
Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we buy treason, and indent with fears
When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains let him starve;
For I shall never hold that man my friend
Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

Hot. Revolted Mortimer!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
But by the chance of war. To prove that true,
Needs no more but one tongue for all those
wounds,

Those mouthéd wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
In single opposition hand to hand,

He did confound the best part of an hour

In changing hardiment with great Glendower. Three times they breathed, and three times did they drink,

Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;
Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank
Blood-stained with these valiant combatants.
Never did bare and rotten policy

Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor never could the noble Mortimer
Receive so many, and all willingly:
Then let him not be slandered with revolt.

K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost

belie him:

He never did encounter with Glendower.

I tell thee,

He durst as well have met the devil alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.
Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

As will displease you.-My lord Northumberland,
We license your departure with your son :—
Send us your prisoners, or you 'll hear of it.

[Exeunt KING HENRY, BLUNT, and Train. Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them.—I will after straight And tell him so: for I will ease my heart, Although it be with hazard of my head. North. What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:

Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
Want mercy if I do not join with him:
Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins,
And shed my dear blood drop by drop i' the dust,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer
As high i' the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.
North. Brother, the King hath made your ne-
phew mad.
[TO WORCESTER.
Wor. Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners:
And when I urged the ransom once again

Of my wife's brother, then his cheek looked pale,
And on my face he turned an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
Wor. I cannot blame him. Was he not pro-
claimed,

By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?
North. He was: I heard the proclamation:
And then it was when the unhappy king
(Whose wrongs in us God pardon !) did set forth
Upon his Irish expedition :

From whence he, intercepted, did return
To be deposed, and shortly murdered.

Wor. And for whose death, we in the wide world's mouth

Live scandalised and foully spoken of.

Hot. But soft, I pray you: did King Richard, then,

Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
Heir to the crown?

North.

He did myself did hear it.
Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin-king
That wished him on the barren mountains starved.
But shall it be that you, that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man,
And for his sake wear the detested blot
Of murderous subornation,-shall it be
That you a world of curses undergo;
Being the agents, or base second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather
(O, pardon me that I descend so low
To shew the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this subtle king),—
Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf
(As both of you, God pardon it! have done),
To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken
That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off
By him for whom these shames ye underwent ?
No: yet time serves wherein you may redeem
Your banished honours, and redeem yourselves
Into the good thoughts of the world again :
Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt
Of this proud king; who studies day and night
To answer all the debt he owes to you,
Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.
Therefore I say,-

Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents
I'll read you matter deep and dangerous;
As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'erwalk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

Hot. If he fall in, good night or sink or swim.

Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it from the north to south,
And let them grapple :-O! the blood more stirs
To rouse a lion than to start a hare.

North. Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon; Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drownéd honour by the locks: So he that doth redeem her thence might wear, Without corrival, all her dignities: But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here, But not the form of what he should attend.Good cousin, give me audience for awhile. Hot. I cry you mercy. Wor.

Those same noble Scots

That are your prisoners,―

Wor.

Hear you, cousin a word. Hot. 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'd have him poisoned with a pot of ale.

Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you, When you are better tempered to attend. North. Why, what a wasp-tongue and impatient fool

Art thou, to break into this woman's mood;
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own.
Hot. 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 't!-it is in Gloucestershire :

'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept;

Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed. Wor. And 't is no little reason bids us speed To save our heads by raising of a head: For, bear ourselves as even as we can, The King will always think him in our debt, And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, Till he hath found a time to pay us home. And see already how he doth begin To make us strangers to his looks of love. Hot. He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.

Wor. Cousin, farewell. No further go in this Than I by letters shall direct your course. When time is ripe (which will be suddenly), I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; Where you and Douglas, and our powers, at once (As I will fashion it) shall happily meet, To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, Which now we hold at much uncertainty. North. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.

Hot. Uncle, adieu:-O, let the hours be short, Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Rochester. An Inn Yard.

Enter a Carrier, with a lantern in his hand. 1st Car. Heigh ho! an't be not four by the day, I'll be hanged: Charles' wain is over the chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!

Ost. [within]. Anon, anon.

1st Car. I pr'y thee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point: the poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.

Enter another Carrier.

2nd Car. 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.

1st Car. Poor fellow! never joyed since the price of oats rose: it was the death of him.

2nd Car. I think this be the most villanous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a tench.

1st Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.

2nd Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jorden, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds flees like a loach.

1st Car. What, ostler! come away and be hanged, come away.

2nd Car. I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing

cross.

1st Car. 'Od'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 't were not as good a deed as drink to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain.-Come, and be hanged!-hast no faith in thee?

Enter GADSHILL.

Gads. Good morrow, carriers: what's o'clock? 1st Car. I think it be two o'clock.

Gads. I pr'y thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.

1st Car. Nay, soft, I pray ye: I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.

Gads. I pr'y thee lend me thine.

2nd Car. Ay, when; canst tell?-Lend me thy lantern, quoth a'? marry, I'll see thee hanged first.

Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?

2nd Car. 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.

Gads. What, ho: chamberlain ! Cham. [within]. At hand, quoth pickpurse. Gads. 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 lay'st the plot how.

Enter Chamberlain.

Cham. 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.

Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas's clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

Cham. No, I'll none of it: I pr'y thee keep that for the hangman; for I know thou worshipp'st Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood

may.

Gads. 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's no starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou dreamest not of (the which for sport sake are content to do the profession some grace), that would, if matters should be looked into, for their own credit sake make all whole. 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 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.

Cham. What, the commonwealth their boots! will she hold out water in foul way?

Gads. She will, she will: justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, cock-sure: we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

Cham. Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholden to the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.

Gads. Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase as I am a true man,

Cham. Nay, rather let me have it as you are a false thief.

Gads. 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,

SCENE II.-The Road by Gads-hill.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS; BARDOLPH and PETO at some distance.

Poins. Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.

P. Hen. Stand close.

Enter FALSTAFF.

Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! P. Hen. Peace, ye fat kidneyed rascal; what a brawling dost thou keep!

Fal. Where's Poins, Hal?

P. Hen. He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. [Pretends to seek Poins.

Fal. I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the square further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company hourly any time this two-and-twenty years; and yet I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it could not be else: I have drunk medicines.-Poins! Hal! a plague upon you both!-Bardolph! Peto!—I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 't were not as

good a deed as drink, to turn true man and leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague upon 't, when thieves canno be true to one another! [They whistle.] Whew. A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged.

P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down: lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down! 'S blood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean you to colt me thus?

P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

Fal. I pr'y thee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse; good king's son.

P. Hen. Out, you rogue! shall I be your ostler? Fal. Go hang thyself in thy own heir-apparent garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison. When a jest is so forward, and afoot too, I hate it.

Gads. Stand!

Enter GADSHILL.

Fal. So I do, against my will.

Poins. O, 't is our setter: I know his voice.

Enter BARDOlph.

Bard. What news?

Gads. Case ye, case ye; on with your visors. There's money of the King's coming down the hill: 't is going to the King's exchequer.

Fal. You lie, you rogue; 't is going to the King's tavern.

Gads. There's enough to make us all.
Fal. To be hanged.

P. Hen. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane: Ned Poins and I will walk lower. If they 'scape from your encounter, then they light on us.

Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight or ten.

Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?

P. Hen. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? Fal. Indeed I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather: but yet no coward, Hal.

P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof. Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: when thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.

Fal. Now cannot I strike him if I should be hanged!

P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins. Here, hard by: stand close.

[Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and PorNs. Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I every man to his business.

Enter Travellers.

1st Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our horses down the hill: we 'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand!

Trav. Jesu bless us!

Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats! Ah, whoreson caterpillars! baconfed knaves! they hate us youth. Down with them; fleece them!

1st Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for ever!

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves: are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would your store were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves, young men must live. You are grand-jurors, are ye? We'll jure ye, i' faith!

[Exeunt FALSTAFF, &c., driving the Travellers out.