'fcape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forfworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitch'd with the rogue's company. If the rafcal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd; it could not be elfe; I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! a Plague upon you both. Bardolph! Peto! I'll ftarve, ere I'll rob a foot further. Antwere not as good a deed as to drink, to turn true-man, and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chew'd with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground, is threescore and ten miles afoot with me: and the ftony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true one to another. [They while. Whew! a plague upon you all. Give me my horse; you rogues, give me my horse, and be hang'd.

P. Henry. Peace, ye fat guts, lie down, lay thine ear close to the ground, and lift if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

Fal. Have you any leavers to lift me up again, being down? Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh fo far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye, to colt me thus? P. Henry. Thou lieft, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

Fal. I pr'ythee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horfe, good King's fon.

P. Henry. Out, you rogue! fhall I be your oftler? Fal. Go hang thyfelf 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 fung to filthy tunes, let a cup of fack be my poifon; when a jeft is fo forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

Enter Gads-hill and Bardolph.

Gads. Stand,

Fal. So I do against my will.

C 2

Poins.

Poins. O, 'tis our Setter, I know his voice : Bardolph, what news?

Bard. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your visors; there's money of the King's coming down the hill, 'tis going to the King's Exchequer.

Fal. You lie, you rogue, 'tis going to the King's

tavern.

Gads. There's enough to make us all.

Fal. To be hang'd.

P. Henry. Sirs, you four fhall 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. But how many be of them?

Gads. Some eight or ten.

Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?

P. Henry. What, a'coward, Sir John Paunch. Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal.

P. Henry. Well, we'll leave that to the proof. Poins. Sirrah, Jack, thy horfe ftands behind the hedge; when thou need'ft him, there shalt thou find him; farewel, and ftand faft

Fal. Now cannot I ftrike him, if I fhould be hang'd.

P. Henry. Ned, where are our disguises?

Poins. Here, hard by: stand close.

Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, fay I; every man to his business.

Trav. COM

SCENE IV.

Enter Travellers.

OME, neighbour; the boy fhall lead our horses down the hill: we'll walk a foot

a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand,

Trav. Jefu blefs us!

Fal.

Fal. Strike; down with them, cut the villains throats; ah! whorefon caterpillars; bacon-fed knaves; they hate us youth; down with them, fleece them.

Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours for

ever.

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are you undone? no, ye fat chuffs, I would your ftore were here. On, bacons, on! what, ye knaves? young men muft live; you are grand jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, i'faith. [Here they rob and bind them: Exeunt.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins.

P. Henry. The thieves have bound the true men: now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jeft for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming.

Enter Thieves again.

Fal. Come, my mafters, let us share, and then to horse before day; .an the Prince and Poins be not two arrant Cowards, there's no equity ftirring. There's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild Duck. P. Henry. Your money.

Poins. Villains!

[As they are fharing, the Prince and Poins fet upon them. They all run away, and Falstaff after a blow or two runs away too, leaving the booty behind them. [horse: P. Henry. Got with much ease. Now merrily to The thieves are scatter'd, and possest with fear So ftrongly, that they dare not meet each other; Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, good Ned. Now Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along: Were't not for laughing, I fhould pity him. Poins. How the rogue roar'd!, C 3

[Exeunt. SCENE

Lord Percy's Houfe.

Enter Hot-fpur folus, reading a letter.

The

BUT for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your Houfe. He could be contented to be there; why is he not then? in respect of the love he bears our Houfe! he fhews in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our Houfe. Let me fee fome more. purpofe you undertake is dangerous. Why, that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to fleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, fafety. The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named uncertain, the time itfelf unforted, and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize of fo great an oppofition. Say you fo, fay you fo? I say unto you again, you are a fhallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this? By the lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and conftant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frofty-spirited rogue is this? Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general courfe of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rafcal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself, Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not befides, the Dowglas? have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are there not fome of them fet forward already? What a Pagan rafcal is this? an infidel. Ha! you fhall fee now, in very fincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving fuch a

difh of skimm'd milk with fo honourable an action. Hang him, let him tell the King. We are prepared, I will fet forward to night.

How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.

Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?

Tell me, fweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy ftomach, pleasure, and thy golden fleep?
Why doft thou bend thy eyes upon the earth?
And ftart fo often, when thou fitt'ft alone?
Why haft thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks?
And given my treasures and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd mufing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint flumbers I by thee have watcht,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars:
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding fteed;
Cry, courage! to the field! and thou haft talk'd
Of fallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palifadoes, fortins, parapets;

Of bafilifks, of cannon, culverin,

Of prisoner's ransom, and of foldiers flain,
And all the current of a heady fight.

Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so beftir'd thee in thy fleep,
That beads of fweat have ftood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-difturbed ftream:

And in thy face ftrange motions have appear'd,
Such as we fee when men reftrain their breath
On fome great sudden haste. O, what portents are
thefe ?

Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,

And I must know it;

else he loves me not.
C 4

Hot.