Hot. Forty let it be;

My father and Glendower being both away,
The pow'r of us may ferve fo great a day.
Come let us take a mufter speedily:
Dooms-day is near; die all, die merrily.
Doug. Talk not of dying, I am out of fear
Of death, or death's hand, for this one half-year.
[Exeunt.

Changes to a public road near Coventry.
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.

Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of fack: our foldiers fhall march through: we'll to Sutton-cop-hill to-night.

Bard. Will you give me money, Captain?

Fal. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This bottle makes an angel.

Fal. And if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coinage. Bid my Lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end. Bard. I will, Captain; farewell.

[Exit.

Fal. If I be not afham'd of my foldiers, I am a fowce'd gurnet. I have mifus'd the King's prefs damnably. I have got, in exchange of an hundred and

6

fifty foldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I prefs me none but good houfholders, yeoman's fons; inquire me out contracted bachelors, fuch as had been aik'd twice on the banes: fuch a commodity of warm flaves, as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum; fuch as fear the report of a culverin, worfe than a truck deer, or a hurt wild-duck. I prefs me none but such 'toasts in butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger 'than pins' heads, and they have bought out their fer'vices: and now my whole charge confifts of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, flaves • as ragg'd as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his fores; and fuch as indeed were never foldiers, but difcarded unjuft fervingmen, younger fons to younger brothers, revolted tapflers, and oftlers trade-fall'n, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace; ten times more dishonourably rag

ged, than an old-feast ancient; and fuch have I to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their fer'vices; that you would think I had a hundred and fifty tatter'd prodigals, lately come from fwine-keeping, 'from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and prefs'd the dead bodies No eye hath feen fuch fcare-crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed, I had the most of them out of prifon. There's but a fhirt and a half in all my company, and the half-fhirt is two napkins tack'd together, and thrown over the fhoulders like a herald's coat without fleeves; and the fhirt,; to fay the truth, ftoin from my hoft of St. Alban's, or the red-nos'd inn-keeper of Daintry. But that's all one, they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

Enter Prince Henry and Weftmorland.

P. Henry. How now; blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag, what a devil doit thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Weitmorland, I cry you mercy; I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

Weft. 'Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all to night.

Fal. Tut, never fear me, I am as vigilant as a cat to fleal cream.

P. Henry. I think to fteal cream, indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whofe fellows are thefe that come after?

Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.

P. Henry. I did never fee fuch pitiful rafcals.

Fal. Tut, tut, good enough to tois; food for pow der, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better; tulh, man, mortal men, mortal men.

Weft. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.

Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they

had

had that; and for their bareness, I am fure they never learn'd that of me.

P. Henry. No, i'll be fworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare.

Percy is already in the field.

But, Sirrah, make hatte.

Fal. What, is the King incamp'd?

Weft. He is, Sir John: I fear we fhall ftay too long.
Fal. Well,

The latter end of a fray, and beginning of a feaft,
Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Changes to Shrewsbury.

Enter Hot-fpur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.

Hot. We ll fight with him to-night.

Wor. It may not be.

Doug. You give him then advantage.

Ver. Not a whit.

Hot. Why fay you fo? looks he not for fupply?

Ver. So do we.

Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful.

Wor. Good coufin, be advis'd; ftir not to-night. Ver. Do not, my Lord.

Doug. You do not counfel well;

You fpeak it out of fear, and from cold heart.
Ver. Do me no flander, Douglas: by my life,
And I dare well maintain it with my life,
If well-respected honour bid me on,

I hold as little counfel with weak fear,
As you, my Lord, or any Scot that lives.
Let it be feen to-morrow in the battle,
Which of us fears.

Doug. Yea, or to-night.

Ver. Content.

Hot. To-night, fay I.

Ver. Come, come, it may not be: I wonder much,

Being men of fuch great leading as you are,
That you forefce not what impediments
Drag back our expedition; certain horse
Of my coufin Vernon's are not yet come up;
Your uncle Worcefler's horfe came but to-day,
And now their pride and mettle is afleep,

1

Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horfe is half half of himself.
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy,

In gen'ral, journey-bated, and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of reit.

Wor. The number of the King's exceedeth ours: For God's fake, coufin, ftay till all come in.

SCENE V.

[The trumpets found a parley.

Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King, If you vouchlafe me hearing and respect.

Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God You were of our determination.

Some of us love you well; and ev'n those fome
Envy your great defervings, and good name,
Because you are not of our quality;

But ftand against us like an enemy.

Blunt. And Heav'n defend but ftill I should stand fo. So long as out of limit and true rule,

You ftand against anointed Majesty!

But to my charge-The King hath fent to know
The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
You conjure from the breaft of civil peace
Such bold hoftility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty. If that the King

Have any way your good deferts forgot,
Which he confeffeth to be manifold,

He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed
You thall have your defires, with interest :

And pardon abfolute for yourfelf, and thefe,

Herein mifled by your fuggetion.

Hot. The King is kind: and well we know, the King
Knows at what time to promife, when to pay.
My father, and my uncle, and myfelf,

Did give him that fame royalty he wears:
And when he was not fix and twenty ftrong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw, fneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the fhore:
And when we heard him fwear, and vow to God,
He came to be but Duke of Lancaster,

Το

To fue his livery and beg his peace,

With tears of innocence and terms of zeal;
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him affistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
They, more and lefs, cap in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
Attended him on bridges, ftood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs, as pages following him
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.
He prefently, as greatnefs knows itself,
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked fhore at Ravenfpurg:
And now, forfooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees,
That lay too heavy on the commonwealth;
Cries out upon abufes, feems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,
This feeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for:
Proceeded further, cut me off the heads
Of all the fav'rites that the abfent King
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was perfonal in the Irith war.
Blunt. I came not to hear this.

Hot. Then to the point

In short time after he depos'd the King;
Soon after that depriv'd him of his life :

And, in the neck of that, task'd the whole ftate.
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March
(Who is, if every owner were right place'd,
Indeed his King) to be incage'd in Wales,
There without ranfom to lie forfeited:
Difgrace'd me in my happy victories,
Sought to intrap me by intelligence,
Rated my uncle from the council-board,

In

rage difmifs'd my father from the court,

Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong, And in conclufion drove us to feek out