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And,-‘‘gentle Harry Percy,”—and, “ kind cou-
-Oh, the devil take such cozeners!—Heaven for-
give me ! -
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, i'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 assured,
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 beloved,
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 lett'st
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 'tis 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 unsatisfied,
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 revenged 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 trust. -
Hot. Uncle, adieu !—O, let the hours be short,
Till fields, and blows, and groans, applaud our sport!

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1 Car. Heigho! 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.

1 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. Peas 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 died. 1 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 villanous 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 delivered as far as Charing Cross. I Car. 'Odsbody! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved.—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.

1 Car. Nay, soft, I pray ye; I know a trick worth

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Gads. Sirrah Carrier, what time do you mean to

come to London 2

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


The Road by Gads Hill.

Enter HENRY PRINCE of WALEs, and Poins, disguised.

Poins. Come, come, shelter; I have removed Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. P. Hen. 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! Hall P. Hen. He has walked up to the top of the hill; I'll go seek him. [Pretends to go and look for Poins. Fal. I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the square 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 for: sworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitched 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 e'er 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 chewed 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 PosNs, GADSHILL, BARDolph, and PETo, disguised. Gads. Stand. Fal. So I do, against my will. Poins. O, 'tis our setter; I know his voice. What news? Gads. Case ye, case ye; on with your visors; there's money of the king's coming down the hill, 'tis going to the king's exchequer. Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern.

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