the rooms of them that have bought out their services, that you would think, that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals, lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scare-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 gives on; for, indeed, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the halfshirt is two napkins, tacked together, and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose inn-keeper of Daintry.' But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and WESTMORELAND.

P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? how now, mad wag? what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire ?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; I thought your honor had already been at Shrewsbury.

West. '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 night.

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

P. Hen. I think, to steal cream indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack; whose fellows are these that come after?

Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.

P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals.

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

1 Daventry.

West. Ay, but, sir John, methinks they are exceed ing poor and bare; too beggarly.

Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I am sure, they never learned that of me.

P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste; Percy is already in the field.

Fal. What, is the king encamped?

West. He is, sir John; I fear we shall stay too long. Fal. Well,

To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a

feast,

Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.

Enter HOTSPUR, Worcester, DOUGLAS, and VERNON. Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.

Wor.

Doug. You give him then advantage.
Ver.

It may not be.

Not a whit.

Hot. Why say you so? Looks he not for supply? Ver. So do we.

Hot.

His is certain; ours is doubtful. Wor. Good cousin, be advised; stir not to-night.

Ver. Do not, my lord.

Doug.

You do not counsel well;

You speak it out of fear, and cold heart.

Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life, (And I dare well maintain it with my life,)

If well-respected honor bid me on,

As

I hold as little counsel with weak fear,
you, my lord, or any Scot that lives.1—
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle,
Which of us fears.

1 The old copies read, "that this day lives;" but the words, as Mason observes, weaken the sense and destroy the measure.

Hot. To-night, say I.

Ver.

Content.

Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, being men of such great leading,' That you foresee not what impediments Drag back our expedition. Certain horse Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up; Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day; And now their pride and mettle is asleep, Their courage with hard labor tame and dull, That not a horse is half the half of himself. Hot. So are the horses of the enemy In general, journey-bated, and brought low; The better part of ours is full of rest.

Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours. For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.

[The trumpet sounds a parley.

Enter SIR WALTER BLUNt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king,

If you vouchsafe 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 even those some

Envy your great deserving, and good name;

Because you are not of our quality,

But stand against us like an enemy.

Blunt. And God defend, but still I should stand so,

So long as, out of limit, and true rule,

You stand against anointed majesty!

But to my charge.-The king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land

1 Leading is experience in the conduct of armies. The old copies have, "such leading as you are;" but the superfluous words serve only to destroy the metre.

Audacious cruelty. If that the king

Have any way your good deserts forgot,-
Which he confesseth to be manifold,-

He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed,
You shall have your desires, with interest;

And pardon absolute for yourself, and these,
Herein misled by your suggestion.

Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king

Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father, and my uncle, and myself,

Did give him that same royalty he wears;
And,-when he was not six-and-twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor, unminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore;
And,-when he heard him swear, and vow to God,
He came but to be duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery,' and beg his peace;
With tears of innocency, and terms of zeal,-
My father, in kind heart and pity moved,
Swore him assistance, and performed it too.
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less 2 came in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages;
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs as pages; followed him,
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.
He presently-as greatness knows itself—
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees,

That lie too heavy on the commonwealth ;

1 That is, to sue out the delivery or possession of his lands. This law term has been already explained.

2 The greater and the less.

Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and, by this face,
This seeming 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 favorites, that the absent king
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was personal in the Irish war.
Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.

Hot. Then, to the point.— In short time after, he deposed the king;

Soon after that, deprived him of his life;

And, in the neck of that,' tasked the whole state:
To make that worse, suffered his kinsman March
(Who is, if every owner were well placed,
Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales,
There without ransom to lie forfeited:
Disgraced me in my happy victories;
Sought to intrap me by intelligence;
Rated my uncle from the council-board;

In rage dismissed my father from the court;

Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong;
And, in conclusion, drove us to seek out
This head of safety; and, withal, to pry
Into his title, the which we find

Too indirect for long continuance.

Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king?
Hot. Not so, sir Walter; we'll withdraw awhile.
Go to the king; and let there be impawned
Some surety for a safe return again,
And in the morning early shall mine uncle
Bring him our purposes; and so farewell.

1 So in Painter's Palace of Pleasure: "Great mischiefes succedyng one in another's necke." Tasked is here used for taxed; it was common to use these words indiscriminately, says Steevens. Taskes were tributes or subsidies, and should not be confounded with taxes, which are carefully distinguished by Baret. He interprets "telonium, the place where taskes or tributes are paied." Philips, in his World of Words, says, "Tasck is an old British word, signifying tribute, from whence haply cometh our word task, which is a duty or labour imposed upon any one."

2 The old copies read engaged, which Theobald altered to incaged: to be engaged is to be pledged as a hostage.