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I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him,
To keep his anger still in motion.

Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you,
When you are better temper'd to attend.

North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool Art thou, to break into this woman's mood; Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!

Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods,

Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.-

In Richard's time,-What do you call the place?-
A plague upon 't!-it is in Glostershire ;-

'T was where the mad-cap duke his uncle kept,
His uncle York ;-where I first bow'd my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke ;-
When you and he came back from Ravenspurg.
North. At Berkley Castle.

Hot. You say true:

Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look,-when his infant fortune came to age,
And,-gentle Harry Percy,-and, kind cousin,-
O, the devil take such cozeners!Heaven forgive

Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done.
Wor. Nay, if you have not, to 't again;
We'll stay your leisure.

Hot. I have done, i̇' faith.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.Deliver them up without their ransom straight, And make the Douglas' son your only mean For powers in Scotland; which, (for divers reasons, Which I shall send you written,) be assur'd, Will easily be granted.-You, my lord,Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,Shall secretly into the bosom creep Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd, The archbishop

Hot. Of York, is 't not?

Wor. True; who bears hard

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

As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted, and set down;
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well.
North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st slip.
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot:-
And then the power of Scotland, and of York,
To join with Mortimer, ha?

Wor. And so they shall.

Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
Wor. And 't is no little reason bids us speed,
To save 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 think ourselves unsatisfy'd,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home.
And see already, how he doth begin

To make us strangers to his looks of love.

Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him. Wor. Cousin, farewell :-no further go in this, Than I by letters shall direct your course.

North. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I


Hot. Uncle, adieu :-O, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport! [Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, HOTSPUR, and WORCESTER.


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An Inn Yard at Rochester.

Enter a Carrier, with a lantern in his hand.

, Car. HEIGH ho! An't be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not pack'd. What, ostler ! Ost. [Within.] Anon, anon.

I Car. I pr'ythee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.

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, since Robin ostler dy'd. yo bad.

I Car. Poor fellow! never joy'd since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him.

2 Car. I think, this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a tench.

I Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.-What, ostler! 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.

1 Car. 'Odsbody! the turkies in my pannier are quite starv'd.-What, ostler!-A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear ? An't were not as good a deed as drink, to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain.-Come, and be hang'd-Hast no faith in thee?



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

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable.

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

Gads. I pr'ythee, led me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? canst tell?-Lend me thy lantern, quoth'a ?-marry, I'll see thee hang'd first. Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London ?


2 Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, warrant thee.-Come, neighbour Mugges, we 'll call up the gentlemen; they'll along with company, for they have great charge.

[Exeunt Carriers, and GADSHILL.


The Road by Gads Hill.

Enter HENRY, Prince of WALES, and POINs, disguised.

Poins. Come, shelter, shelter; I have remov'd Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gumm'd velvet.

P. Henry. Stand close.

[POINS retires a little.

Enter FALSTAFF, disguised.

Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hang'd! Poins!

P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal; what a brawling dost thou keep?

Fal. What, Poins! Hal!

P. Hen. He is walk'd up to the top of the hill; I'll go seek him.

[Pretends to go and look for POINS. Fal. I am accurs'd 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 squire further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'scape

hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitch'd with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd; it could not be else; I have drunk medicines. Poins!-Hal!-a plague' upon you both!-Bardolph !-Peto!-I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 't were not as good a deed as 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 three score and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: a plague upon 't, when thieves cannot be true to one another! [They whistle.] Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hang'd.

P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye, to colt me thus?

P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. [He advances to FALSTAFF.]

Fal. I pr'ythee, good prince Hal, help me to my horse; good king's son.

P. Hen. Out, you rogue! shall I be your ostler? Fal. Go, hang thyself 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 sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison; when a jest is so forward, and afoot too!-I hate it.

Enter POINS, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO, disguised.

Gads. Stand.

Fal. So I do, against my will.

Poins. O, 't is our setter; I know his voice. What'


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