Hot. I have done, i'faith.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. [To Hot-fpur. Deliver them without their ranfom ftraight, And make the Dowglas' Son your only mean For Pow`rs in Scotland; which, for divers reasons Which I fhall fend you written, be affur'd,

Will eafily be granted.-You, my lord, [To North. Your Son in Scotland being thus employ'd,

Shall fecretly into the bofom creep

Of that fame noble Prelate, well belov'd,
Th' Arch-bishop.

Hot. York, is't not?

Wor. True, who bears hard

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

As what, I think, might be; but what, I know,
Is ruminated, plotted and fet down;

And only ftays but to behold the face

Of that occafion, that fhall bring it on.

:

Hot. I fmell it on my life, it will do well. North. Before the game's a-foot, thou ftill lett'ft flip. Hot. It cannot chufe but be a noble Plot; And then the power of Sotland, and of York To join with Mortimer; ha!

Wor. So they fhall.

Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed
To fave 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 deem ourfelves unfatisfy'd,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home.
And fee already, how he doth begin
To make us ftrangers to his looks of love.

Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him.
Wor. Coufin, farewel. No further go in this,

Than I by letters fhall direct your course;

When

When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
I'll fteal to Glendower, and lord Mortimer,
Where you and Dowglas, and our Pow'rs at once,
(As I will fafhon it) fhall happily meet,

To bear our fortunes in our own ftrong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty. [trust.
North. Farewel, good brother; we shall thrive, I
Hot. Uncle, adieu: O let the hours be fhort,
'Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport!
[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I..

An Inn at Rochester.

Enter a Carrier with a Lanthorn in his Hand.

I CARRIER.

EIGH ho! an't be not four by the day, I'll be

Hhang'd. Charles' wain is over the new chimney,

and yet our horfe not packt. What, oftler? Oft. [within.] Anon, anon.

1 Car. I pr'ythee, Tom, beat Cutt's faddle, put a few flocks in the point: the poor jade is wrung in the withers, out of all cefs.

Enter another Carrier.

2 Car. Pease and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turn'd upside down, fince Robin Oftler dy'd.

1 Car. Poor fellow never joy'd fince the price of oats rofe, it was the death of him.

2 Car. I think, this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas : I am ftung like a Tench. 1 Car. Like a Tench? by th' Mafs, there's ne'er a

King in Christendom could be better bit than I have been fince the firft cock.

2 Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jourdan, and then we leak in your chimney: 'and your chamber-lie breds fleas like a Loach.

1 Car. What, oftler, come away, and be hang'd,

come away.

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

I Car. 'Odfbody, the Turkies in my panniers are quite ftarv'd. What, oftler? a plague on thee! haft thou never an eye in thy head? canft 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 hang'd, haft no faith in thee?

Enter Gads-hill.

Gads. Good-morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? Car. I think, it be two o'clock.

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thy lanthorn, to fee my gelding in the ftable.

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

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? canft tell? lend me thy lanthorn, quoth a! marry, I'll fee thee hang'd firft. 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 Mugges, we'll call up the gentlemen; they will along with Company, for they have great Charge. [Exeunt Carriers..

Enter Chamberlain.

Gads. WCham. At hand, quoth pick-purse.

HAT, ho, chamberlain !

Gads.

Gads. That's ev'n as fair, as at hand, quoth the chamberlain; for thou varieft no more from picking of purfes, than giving direction doth from labouring. Thou lay'ft the plot how.

Cham. Good-morrow, mafter Gads-hill; it holds current, that I told you yefternight. 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 laft night at fupper; 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 * St. 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 worshipp'ft St. Nicholas as truly as a man of falfhood may.

Gads. What talk'ft thou to me of hangman? if I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows. For if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou know'ft, he's no ftarveling. Tut, there are other Trojans that thou dream'ft not of, the which, for fport-fake, are content to do the profeffion fome grace; that would, if matters fhould be look'd into, for their own credit fake, make all whole. I am join'd with no footland-rakers, no long-staff-fix-penny-ftrikers, none of those mad Muftachio-purple-hu'd-malt-worms; but with nobility and tranquillity; burgomafters, and great Moneyers; fuch as can hold in, fuch as will ftrike fooner than speak; and speak sooner than think; and think fooner than pray; and yet I lie, for they pray continually unto their Saint the Common-wealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her; for they ride up and down on her, and make her their boots.

:

St. Nicholas' clerks,] St. Nicholas was the Patron Saint of Scholars And Nicholas, or Old Nick, is a cant Name for the Devil. Hence he equivocally calls Robbers, St. Nicholas's Clerks. VOL. V.

C

Cham.

Cham. What, the common-wealth their boots? will fhe hold out water in foul way?

Gads. She will, fhe will; juftice hath liquor'd her. We fteal as in a castle, cock-fure; we have the receipt of Fern-feed, we walk invisible.

Cham. Nay, I think rather, you are more beholden to the night, than the Fern-feed, for your walking invisible.

Gads. Give me thy hand: thou fhalt have a fhare 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 oftler bring my Gelding out of the ftable. Farewel, ye muddy knave.

[Exeunt.

Changes to the Highway.

Enter Prince Henry, Poins, and Peto.

C

Poins. OME, fhelter, fhelter; I have removed Falstaff's horfe, and he frets like a gumm’d

velvet.

P. Henry. Stand close.

Enter Falftaff.

Fal. Poins, Poins, and be hanged, Poins!

P. Henry. Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rafcal, what a brawling doft thou keep?

Fal. What, Poins! Hal!

P. Henry. He is walk'd up to the top of the hill, I'll go feek him.

Fal. I am accurft to rob in that thief's company: the rascal hath remov'd my horse, and ty'd him, I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the fquare farther afoot, I fhall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'scape