man, I dare; but as thou art a Prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the Lion's whelp. P. Henry. And why not as the Lion? Fal. The King himself is to be fear'd as the Lion; doft thou think, I'll fear thee, as I fear thy father? nay, if I do, let my Girdle break! P. Henry. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! But, Sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bofom of thine; it is all fill'd up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whorefon, impudent, imboss'd rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, Memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor pennyworth of fugar-candy to make thee long winded; if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, I am a villain; and yet you will ftand to it, you will not pocket up wrongs. Art thou not afham'd? Fal. Doft thou hear, Hal? thou know'ft in the state of innocency, Adam fell: and what should poor Jack Falfaff do, in the days of villany? thou feeft, I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then, you pickt my pocket? P. Henry. It appears fo by the ftory. Fal. Hoftefs, I forgive thee: go make ready Breakfaft; love thy husband, look to thy fervants, and cherilh thy guclts: thou fhalt find me tractable to any honeft reafon: thou feeft, I am pacify'd ftill, Nay, I pr'ythee, be gone. [Exit Hoftefs. Now, Hal, to the news at Court: for the robbery, lad,- -how is That answer'd? P. Henry. O my fweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee. The money is paid back again. Fal. O, I do not like that paying back ; 'tis a double labour. P. Henry. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing. Fal. Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doft, and do it with unwafh'd hands too. Bard. Do, my lord. P. Henry. I have procur'd thee, Jack, a Charge of foot. Fal. I would, it had been of horfe. Where shall I find one, that can steal well? O, for a fine thief, of two and twenty, or thereabout; I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thank'd for thefe rebels, they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them. P. Henry. Bardolph, Bard. My lord? P. Henry. Go bear this letter to lord John of Lancafter, to my brother John. This to my lord of Westmor land; go, Peto, to horfe; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple-Hall at two o'clock in the afternoon, there fhalt thou know thy charge, and there receive money and order for their furniture. The Land is burning, Percy ftands on high; And either they, or we, must lower lie. Fal. Rare words! brave world! hoftefs, my break fast, come: Oh, I could wish, this tavern were my drum! Exeunt, A C T IV. SCENE I. Changes to SHREWSBURY. Enter Hot-fpur, Worcester, and Dowglas. ELL faid, my noble Scot, if speaking truth, WE In this fine age, were not thought flattery, Such attribution fhould the Dowglas have, As As not a foldier of this season's stamp Should go fo gen'ral currant through the World. The tongues of foothers. But a braver place Enter a Meffenger. the ground, Hot. Do, and 'tis well-What letters haft thou there? I can but thank you. Meff. These come from your father. Hot. Letters from him? why comes he not himself? Meff. He cannot come, my lord, he's grievous fick. Hot. Heav'ns! how has he the leifure to be fick In fuch a juftling time? who leads his Power; Under whofe government come they along? *Meff. His letters bear his mind, not I. Hot. His mind! Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? Meff. He did, my lord, four days ere I fet forth: And at the time of my departure thence, He was much fear'd by his phyficians. Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole,' Ere he by fickness had been visited; His health was never better worth than now. Hot. Sick now? droop now? this sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprize; 'Tis catching hither, even to our Camp. *Meff. His letters bear his mind, not I his mind,] The Line fhould be read and divided thus, Meff. His Letters bear his Mind, not I. Hot. His Mind! 1 As much as to fay, I enquire not about his Mind, I want to know where his Powers are. This is natural, and perfe&ly in Character. He He writes me here, that inward ficknefs- Could not fo foon be drawn: nor thought he meet Of all our purposes. What fay you to it? Dowg. Faith, and fo we should; A comfort of retirement lives in this. Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the Devil and Mifchance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. Wor. But yet I would your father had been here: Of our proceedings, kept the Earl from hence. And And breed a kind of question in our caufe: Hot. You ftrain too far. I rather of his abfence make this use: Than if the Earl were here: for men muft think, Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole. Dowg. As heart can think; there is not such a word Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear. Hot. Enter Sir Richard Vernon. Y coufin Vernon, welcome, by my foul! The Earl of Westmorland, fev'n thousand strong, Ver. And further, I have learn'd, The King himself in perfon hath fet forth, With ftrong and mighty preparation. Hot. He fhall be welcome too: where is his fon? The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales, Ver. All furnifht, all in arms, All |