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.
HOT-SPUR.

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.
By heav'n, I cannot flatter: I defy

The tongues of foothers. But a braver place
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
Dowg. Thou art the King of honour:
No man fo potent breathes upon
But I will beard him.

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!
Hot-fpur had asked who leads his Power? The Meffenger answers,
His Letters bear his Mind. The other replies, 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-
And that his friends by deputation

Could not fo foon be drawn: nor thought he meet
To lay fo dangerous and dear a Truft
On any foul remov'd, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our fmall conjunction we should on,
To fee how fortune is difpos'd to us:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now;
Because the King is certainly poffeft

Of all our purposes. What fay you to it?
Wor. Your father's fickness is a maim to us.
Hot. A perillous gash, a very limb lopt off:
And yet, in faith, 'tis not: his prefent want
Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good,
To fet the exact wealth of all our fates
All at one Caft; to fet fo rich a Main..
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good; for therein fhould we read
The very bottom, and the foul of hope,
The very lift, the very utmoft Bound
Of all our fortunes.

Dowg. Faith, and fo we should;
Where now remains a fweet reverfion.
We now may boldły spend upon the hope
Of what is to come in:

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:
The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no divifon: it will be thought
By fome. that know not why he is away,
That wifdom, loyalty, and mere diflike

Of our proceedings, kept the Earl from hence.
And think, how fuch an apprehenfion
May turn the tide of fearful faction,

And

And breed a kind of question in our caufe:
For well you know, we of th' offending fide
Muft keep aloof from ftrict arbitrement;
And ftop all fight-holes, every loop, from whence
The eye of reafon may pry in upon us :
This abfence of your father draws a curtain,
That fhews the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt upon.

Hot. You ftrain too far.

I rather of his abfence make this use:
It lends a luftre, and more great opinion,
A large Dare to our great enterprise,

Than if the Earl were here: for men muft think,
If we without his help can make a head,
To push against the Kingdom; with his help,
We fhall o'erturn it topfy-turvy down.

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!
Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a wel-
come, lord.

The Earl of Westmorland, fev'n thousand strong,
Is marching hither, with Prince John of Lancaster.
Hot. No harm; what more?

Ver. And further, I have learn'd,

The King himself in perfon hath fet forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,

With ftrong and mighty preparation.

Hot. He fhall be welcome too: where is his fon?

The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daft the world afide.
And bid it pafs?

Ver. All furnifht, all in arms,

All