For more unaven and unwelcome news

Came from the north, and thus it did import.
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he, that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend, I Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Stain'd with the variation of each soil

Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
The earl of Douglas is discomfited;
Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood, did sir Walter see
On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son
To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
West. In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin

In envy, that my lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son :
A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow

Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd,
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children, where they lay,
And call'd mine-Percy, his-Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts:

coz,

What think you,

Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife.
West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Wor-
cester,

Malevolent to you in all aspects;

Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this:
And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.

West. I will, my liege.

[Exeunt.

SCENR II.-The same. Another Room in the

Palace.

Enter HENRY Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly, which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping houses, and the bless ed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame colour'd taffeta; I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars;

Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal.

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too : for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; and spent with crying-bring in : now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft.

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No: I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit.

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,--But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

P. Hen. For obtaining of suits?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear.

P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?

Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,sweet young prince,--But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in

the street too.

P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.

Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration; and art, in

deed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Be fore I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.

P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?

Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.

P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking.

Enter POINS, at a distance.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true P. Hen. Good-morrow, Ned. (man. Poins. Good-morrow, sweet Hal.-What says monsieur Remorse? What says sir John Sack-andSugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg?

P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. [the devil. P. Hen. Else he had been damned for cozening Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbary with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your parses fall of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged.

Fal. Hear me, Yedward, if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chaps?

Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my

faith.

Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.

Fal Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persua sion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be bebeved, that the true prince may (for recreation sake,) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: You shall find me in Bastcheap.

P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-ballown summer! (Exit Falstaff. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and I, will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders.

P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth?

Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they ad venture upon the exploit themselves: which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.

P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.

Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

P. Hen. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for us. Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'l forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jest.

P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap, there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord.

[Exit Poins. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness: Yet herein will I imitate the sun; Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holydays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So, when this loose behaviour I throw off, And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes, Than that, which hath no foil to set it off. I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; Redeeming time, when men think least I will. [Exit. SCENE III.-The same. Another Room in the Palace.

Enter King HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WOR CESTER, HOTSPUR, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others.

K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities,
And you have found me; for, accordingly,
You tread upon my patience; but, be sure,
I will from henceforth rather be myself,
Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition;
Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
And therefore lost that title of respect,
Which the proud soul ne'er pays, but to the proud.
Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little de-

When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, In single opposition, hand to hand,

Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.-

[Exit Worcester. (To North.) Yea, my good lord.

You were about to speak. North.

Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
Were, as he says, not with such strength denied,
As is deliver'd to your majesty:
Either envy, therefore, or misprision
Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd,
Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home:
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose, and took 't away again;
Who, therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff:-and still he smil'd, and talk'd;
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them-untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holyday and lady terms

He question'd me; among the rest, demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To be so pester'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Answer'd negligently, I know not what;

He should, or 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 druins, 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 villainous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald disjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said;

And, I beseech you, let not his report

Come current for an accusation,

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

He did confound the best part of an hour
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
Three times they breath'd, 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 slander'd 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 not asham'd? 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;

Here comes your uncle.

Hot.

Re-enter WORCESTER.

Speak of Mortimer!

Whatever Harry Percy then had said,

To such a person, and in such a place, At such a time, with all the rest re-told,

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 ransome straight
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
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 ransome home revolted Mortimer!
Hot. Revolted Mortimer!

Ele 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 mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,

And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

Wor. I cannot blame him: Was he not pro

claim'd,

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 depos'd, and shortly, murder'd.

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

Live scandaliz'd, 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 wish'd him on the barren mountains starv'd. 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 murd'rous 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 show 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 fool'd, discarded, and shook off By him, for whom these shames ye underwent? No; yet time serves, wherein you may redeem Your banish'd honours, and restore yourselves Into the good thoughts of the world again : Revenge the jeering, and disdain'd 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 advent'rous spirit, As to o'er-walk 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-fac'd moon: Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear,
Without corrival, all her dignities:
But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship!

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

That are your prisoners,

Those same noble Scots,

Hot.

I'll keep them all;

By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them: No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: I'll keep them, by this hand.

Wor.

You start away,

And lend no ear unto my purposes.—
Those prisoners you shall keep.
Hot.

Nay, I will, that's flat:-
He said, he would not ransome Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
But I will find him, when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla-Mortimer!
Nay,

I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him,
To keep his anger still in motion.

Wor.

Cousin ; a word.

Hear you,

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,

Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:

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 mad-cap duke his uncle kept;
His uncle York :-where I first bow'd my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,
When you and he came back from Ravenspurg.
North. At Berkley castle.

Hot. 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, for I have done.
Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again;
We'll stay your leisure.
Hot.

Wor. Then once

soners.

I have done, i'faith. more to your Scottish pri

Deliver them up without their ransome straight,
And make the Douglas' son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which,-for divers reasons,
Which I shall send you written,-be assur'd,
Will easily be granted.-Yon, my lord,-
(To Northumberland.)

Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
Shall secretly into the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate well belov'd,
The archbishop.

Hot. Of York, is't not?

Wor. True; who bears hard

His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop.
I speak not this in estimation,

As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted, and set down:
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion, that shall bring it on.
Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well.
North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st
(plot :-
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble
And then the power of Scotland, and of York,-
To join with Mortimer, ha?

slip.

Wor. And so they shall. Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. Wor. And 'tis 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 reveng'd ou 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,

And would be glad he met with some mischance,

But that I think his father loves him not,

I'd have him poison'd with a pot of ale.

Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you,

When you are better temper'd to attend.

North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient

Art thon, to break into this woman's mood;
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own?

[fool

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Rochester. An Inn Yard. Enter a Carrier, with a lantern in his hand.

with rods,

Ost. (Within.) Anon, anon.

1 Car. I prythee, 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.

2 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 turned upside down, since Robin ostler died.

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

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

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

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

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

come away.

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

1 Car. Odsbody! 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 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 ? 1 Car. I think it be two o'clock. Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.

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

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thine.

2 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?

2 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 pick-purse. 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' clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

Cham. No, I'll none of it: I pr'ythee, keep that for the hangman; for, I know, thou worship'st saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.

Gaas. 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 malt-worms: but with nobility, and trauquillity; burgomasters, and great oneyers; such as

can hold in; such as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than drink, and driuk 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.

men.

stable.

Gads. Go to; Homo is a common name to all Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the Farewell, you muddy knave. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Road by Gadshill. 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 squire 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 twoand-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-Ha!-a plague upon you both!-Bardolph-Peto!-I'll starve, ere I'll rob a foot fur ther. An 'twere not as good a deed as driuk, to turn true man, and leave these rogues, I am the veriest of uneven ground, is threescore and ten miles afoot varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: A plague upon't, when thieves cannot 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? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

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

Fal. I pr'ythee, 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 An I garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack he ny poison: When a jest is so forward, and afoot too,-I hate it. Enter GADSHILL.

Gads. Stand!
Fal. So I do, against my will.

Poins. O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice.