On any

He writes me here, that inward fickness
And that his friends by deputation
Could not so soon be drawn: nor thought he meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a Trust

soul remov'd, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is dispos'd to us:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now;
Because the King is certainly poffeft
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.

Hot. A perillous gash, a very limb lopt off : And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want Seems more than we shall find it.

Were it good,
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one Gaft; to set so rich à Main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour ?
It were not good; for therein should we read
The very bottom, and the soul of hope,
The very lift, the very utmost Bound
Of all our fortunes.

Dowg. Faith, and so we fhould;
Where now remains a sweet reverfion.
We now may boldly 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 Mischance 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 divison : it will be thought By some, that know not why he is away, That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike Of our proceedings, kept the Earl from hence. And think, how such an apprehension May turn the tide of fearful faction,

And

And breed a kind of question in our cause:
For well you know, we of th' offending fide
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement;
And stop all fight-holes, every loop, from whence
The eye of reason may pry

in

upon us :
This absence of your father draws a curtain,
That shews the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt upon.

Hot. You ftrain too far.
I rather of his absence 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 shall 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.

S CE N E II.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.
Y coufin Vernon, welcome, by my soul !

Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a wel

come, lord.

The Earl of Westmorland, sev’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 person hath set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation,

Hot. He shall be welcome too: where is his fon ?
The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daft the world alde
And bid it pass?
Ver. All furnisht, all in arms,

All

All plum d like Eftridges, that with the wind
Baited like Eagles, having lately bath'd:
Glittering in golden coats like images,
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the Sun at Midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuifles on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,
Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury;
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an Angel dropt down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Hot. No more, no more ; worse than the Sun in.

March,
This praise doth nourish agues; let them come.
They come like Sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them.
The mailed Mars shall on his altar fit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire,
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,
And
yet not ours. Come, let me take

my

horse,
Who is to bear me, like a thunder-bolt,
Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.
Harry to Harry shall (not horse to horse)
Meet, and ne'er part, ’rill One drop down a coarse.
Oh, that Glendower were come!

Ver. There is more news :
I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his Pow'r this fourteen days.

Dowg. That's the worst tidings that I hear of, yet.
Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
Hot. What may the King's whole Battle reach unto?
Ver. To thirty thousand.

Hot. Forty let it be ;
My father and Glendower being both away,
The Pow'r of us may serve so great a day.

Come,

Come, let us take a mufter speedily:
Dooms-day is near; die all, die merrily.

Dowg. Talk not of dying, I ain out of fear
Of death, or death's hand, for this one half year.

Exeunt.

age. Bid

i

Changes to a Public Road, near Coventry.

Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. Fal. BAR DOLPH, get thee before to Coventry,

fill me a bottle of fack : our foldiers shall march through: we'll to Sutton-cop-hill to-night.

Bard. Will you give me money, captain ?
Fal. Lay out, lay out.
Bard. This bottle makes an angel.

Fal. And if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coin

my

lieutenant Pete meet me at the town's end. Bard. I will, captain; farewel.is

[Exit. Fal. If I be not asham'd of my soldiers, I am a sowc'd gurnet: I have mis-us’d the King's Press damnably. I have got, in exchange of an hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me none but good housholders, yeomens' fons; enquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been ask'd twice on the banes: such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lieve hear the devil, as a drum; such as fear the report of a culverin, worse than a ftruck deer, or a hurt wild duck. I press me none but such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their services : and now my whole Charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, flaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the Glution's dogs licked his sores : and such Vol. V.

E

as

as indeed were never foldiers, but discarded unjust Servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers ; revolted tapiters, and oftlers trade-fall'n, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace; ten times more difhonourably ragged, than an old-feast ancient; and such have I to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services; that you would think, I had a hundred and fifty tatter'd Prodigals, lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow mei me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and preft the dead bodies. No

eye

hath seen such skare-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 * gyves 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 half shirt is two napkins tack'd together, and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without fleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth foll'n from my Hoft of St. Albans; or the red nos'd Inn-keeper of Daintry. But that's all one, they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

Enter Prince Henry, and Westmorland.
P. Henry. How now, blown Jack ? how now, quilt?

Fal. Wbat, Hal? How now, mad wag, what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire? My good lord of Weftrrorland, I cry you mercy; I thought, your Honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

Wef. '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 to-night.

Fal. Tut, never fear me, I am as vigiladt, as a Cat to steal cream.

P. Henry. I think, to fteal cream, indeed; for thy * gyves on;] i. 6. Shakles.

Mr. Pope.

theft

4

.