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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 shall 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 there of them?
Gads. Some eight, or ten.
Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?
P. Henry. What, a coward, fir John Paunch?

Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather ; but yet no coward, Hal.

P. Henry. Well, we leave that to the proof.

Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge; when thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Fare. well, and stand fast.

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should 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, say
I; every man to his business.

Enter Travellers.

Trav. Come, neighbour ; the boy shall lead our horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand.
Trav. Jesu bless us !

Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains'throats : Ah! whoreson caterpillars ! bacon-fedd 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 ye undone ? bappy man be his dole,)-good luck betide us.

TAMING OF THE SHREW, Vol. II. p. 238. Hor. gorbellied ]-corpulent,

No,

No, ye fat *chuffs ; I would, your store were here ! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves ? young men must 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 jest for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming,

Enter thieves again. Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day. An the prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring : there's no more va. lour in that Poins, than in a wild duck.

P. Henry. Your money. Poins. Villains ! [As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them.

They all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or

two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind him) P. Henry. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear So strongly, that they dare not meet each other ; Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along : Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.

Poins. How the rogue roar'd! * cuffs---churls, clowns. argument)-furnish a topic of conversation, a subject of merriment.

SCENE

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Warkworth. A Room in the Castle.

Enter Hotspur, reading ? a letter.

-But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your bouse. -He could be contented,—Why, is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house:-he shews in this, ne loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous, - Why, that's certain ; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to Neep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous ; the friends you bave named, uncertain ; the time itself unforted; and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize of fo great an opposition.Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow 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 constant : a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation : an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this? Why, • my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, 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, besides, the Douglas ? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next z a letter. ]-from G. Durbar, carl of March, in Scotland.

any lord of York]- Richard Scroop, Archbishop of York.

fan ]--fans were formerly made of feathers, with handles of gold, filver, &c.

month?

3

b

month ? and are they not, some of them, set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this? an infidel? Ha! you thall see now, in very sincerity 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 such a dish of skimm'd milk with fo honourable an action! Hang him ! let him tell the king :-We are prepared. I will set forward to-night.

Enter Lady Percy.
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 banilh'd wonian from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth;
And ftart so often, when thou fit'st alone ?
Why haft thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint Numbers, I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars :
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage !--to the field! And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, “frontiers, parapets ;
Of baglisks, of cannon, culverin ;
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers Nain,
And all the 'currents of' a heady fight.

Kare?]-Lady Percy's name was Elizabeth, but Sbakspeare had a fondness for this familiar appellation.

frontiers, ]-forts. bafilisks,)

great guns.
boudy fighi.)-a warm engagement.

Thy

Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestir'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream :
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are these? ?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not,

Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone ?

Enter Servant.

Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff
Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv. It is, my lord.

Hot. That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight : 0 esperance !
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. [Exit Serv.

Lady. But hear you, my lord. .
Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady. What is ie carries you away?
Hot. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.

Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weazle hath not such a deal of spleen,
As you are tost with.
In sooth, I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear, my brother Mortimer doth ftir
About his title; and hath sent for you,
To line his enterprize : But if you go

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me

& Speranza-Perry's motto, and word of battle,
VOL. III.
K k

Directly

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