The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, to which are Added His Miscellaneous Poems. (Life of William Shakspeare, by Mr. N. Rowe.).

SCENE I-London.-A Room in the Palace. Enter King HENRY, WESTMORELAND, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Others.

K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short winded accents of new broils To be commenced in stronds afar remote. No more the thirsty Erinnys + of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields; Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which,-ike the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred,Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now, in mutual well-beseening ranks, March all one way; and be no more opposed Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies: The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engaged to fight,) Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd For our advantage, on the bitter cross. But this our purpose is a twelve-month old, And bootless 'tis to tell you-we will go; Therefore we meet not now:-Then let me hear Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, What yesternight our council did decree, In forwarding this dear expedience.

West. My lege, this haste was hot in question, And many limits of the charge set down But yesternight: when, all athwart there came A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news; Whose worst was,-that the noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower, Was by the rude hand of that Welshman taken, And a thousand of his people butchered: Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse, Such beastly, shameless transformation,

• Strands, banks of the sea. The fury of discord. Force, army. » Needless. Estimates.

Expedition.

By those Welshwomen done, as may not be,
Without much shame, retold or spoken of.
K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this
broil

Brake off our business for the Holy land.
West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious

lord;

For more uneven and unwelcome news
Caine from the north, and thus it did import.
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant, and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each soil +
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
The earl of Douglas is discomfited;

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
On Holmedon's plains :-Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son
To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? Ha, cousin, is it not?
West. In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and

mak'st me sin

In envy that my lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son:
A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow

Of my young Harry. O, that it could be proved,
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And call'd mine-Percy, his-Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.

* September 14.

+ Covered with dirt of different colours. Piled up in a heap.

But let him from my thoughts :-What think you, coz',

Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surprized,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife.
West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is
cester,

ther antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

P. Hen. No; thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou Wor-shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.

Malevolent to you in all aspects;
Which makes him prune + himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

K. Ilen. But I have sent for him to answer this;
And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.
West. I will, my liege.

[Exeunt

SCENE II.-The same.-Another Room in the Palace Enter HENRY Prince of WALES, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in Lame-colour'd taffata; I see no reason, why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,-he, that wandering knight so fair. And I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,)——— P. Hen. What! none?

Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

P. Hen. Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly, Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's beanty; let us beDiana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: and let men say, we be men of good government; being govern'd as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose Countenance we--steal.

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being govern'd as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now:-A purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by ; and spent with crying-bring in ; now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet

robe of durance?

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning,

many a time and oft.

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid

all there.

P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit.

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standng in England when thou art king? And resolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rusty curb of old fa

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

P. Hen. For obtaining of suits?

Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits; whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugg'd bear.

P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe +.

P. Hen. What say'st thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?

Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,sweet young prince,-But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought; an old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, Sir; but I mark'd him not: and yet he talk'd very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talk'd wisely,

and in the street too.

P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damn'd for never a king's son in Christendom.

P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?

Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffles me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking.

Enter POINs, at a distance.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!-Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him! This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true T

man.

P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned.

Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal.-Wha says monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-andsugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good friday last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg

P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.

P. Hen. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil.

Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: have visors for you all, you have horses for your selves; Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep: if you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hang'd.

Fal. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops?

Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?

P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good

Gib-cat, should be lib-cat,-a Scotch term at this day for a gelded cat.

Croak of a frog.
Treat me with ignominy.
Made an appointment.
Honest.

Citation of holy text.

• Masks.

fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.

P.Hen. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a mad-cap.

Fal. Why, that's well said.

P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

P. Hen. I care not.

Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.

Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be be lieved, that the true prince may (for recreation sake,) prove a false thief: for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.

P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-hallown summer+! [Exit Falstaff. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself, and 1, will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth?

Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves: which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.

P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.

Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

us.

P. Hen, But, I doubt, they will be too hard for Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper; how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproofs of thi, lies the jest.

P. fen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all
things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in
Eastcheap, there I'll sup. Farewell.
Poins. Farewell, my lord.

[Exit Poins. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while up

hold.

The unyoked humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun;
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;

But, when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So, when this loose behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And, like bright metal on a sullen ¶ ground,
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall shew more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time, when men think least I will.

[Exit.

The value of a coin called real or royal. + Fire weather at All-hallown-tide (i. e. All Saints, Nov. 1st) is called a All-hallown summer. 1 Cecasion. Confutation. Dull.

Tectations.

SCENE 111.-The same.-Another Room in the

Palace.

Enter King HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCES
TER, HOTSPUR, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Others.
K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and tem-
perate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities,

And you have found me; for accordingly,
You tread upon my patience; but be sure,
I will from henceforth rather be myself,
Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition⚫;
Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
And therefore lost that title of respect,
Which the proud soul ne'er pays, but to the proud.
Wor. Our house my sovereigu liege,little deserves
The scourge of greatness to be used on it;
And that same greatness too which our own hands
Have holp to make so portly
North. My lord.-

K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I see danger
And disobedience in thine eye: 0, Sir,
Your presence is too bold and peremptory,
And majesty might never yet endure
The moody frontiert of a servant brow.
You have good leave to leave us: when we need
Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.-
[Exit Worcester.
You were about to speak.

[To Northumberland.

North. Yea, my good lord.
Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
Where, as he says, not with such strength denied
As is deliver'd to your majesty:
Either envy, therefore, or misprision
is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toii,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd,
Shew'd like a stubble-land at harvest home:
He was perfumed like a milliner;
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose, and took't away again ;—
Who, therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff:-And still he smiled, and talk'd;
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them-untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility,
With many holiday and lady termis
He question'd me: among the rest demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To be so pester'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience
Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what;
He should, or he should not;-for he inade me
mad,

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the
mark!)

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villainous salt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said;
And, I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accusation,
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
Blunt. The circumstance consider'd, good my
lord,

Whatever Harry Percy then had said,
To such a person, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest re-told,
May reasonably die, and never rise
To do him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he said, so he unsay it now.

• Disposition. + Forehead.
+ Ready assent.
A small box for musk or other perfumes.
Parrot.
Pain.

• Brave,

K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners;
But with proviso, and exception,—

That we, at our own charge, shall ransome straight
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
The lives of those, that he did lead to fight
Against the great magician, damn'd Glendower;
Whose daughter, as we hear, the earl of March
Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then
Be emptied, to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we buy treason? And indent with fears,
When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains let him starve ;
For I shall never hold that man my friend,
Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
To ransome home revolted Mortimer.

Hot. Revolted Mortimer!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

But by the chance of war:-To prove that true,
Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
In single opposition, hand to hand,

He did confound the best part of an hour
In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
Three times they breathed, and three times did they
drink,

Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;

Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank
Blood-stained with these valiant combatants.
Never did bare and rotten policy

Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor never could the noble Mortimer
Receive so many, and all willingly:
Then let him not be slander'd with revolt.
K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou
belie him,

He never did encounter with Glendower;
I tell thee,

He durst as well have met the devil alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.

Hot. But, soft, I pray you; did king Richard then
Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
Heir to the crown?

North. He did; myself did hear it.

Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,.
That wish'd him on the barren mountains starved.
But shall it be, that you,-that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man;
And, for his sake, wear the detested blot
Of murd'rous subornation,-shall it be,
That you a world of curses undergo;
Being the agents, or base second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather ?—
O, pardon me, that I descend so low,
To shew the line, and the predicament,
Wherein you range under this subtle king.
Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power.
Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf,-
As both of you, God pardon it! have done,-
To
put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off
By him, for whom these shames ye underwent?
No; yet time serves, wherein you may redeem
Your banish'd honours, and restore yourselves
Into the good thoughts of the world again:
Revenge the jeering, and disdain'd + contempt,
Of this proud king, who studies, day and night,
To answer all the debt he owes to you,
Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.
Therefore, I say,--

Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents
dost I'll read you matter deep and dangerous;
As full of peril, and advent'rous spirit,
As to o'er-walk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
Or you shall hear in such a kind from me
As will displease you.-My lord Northumberland,
We license your departure with your son :-
Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it.

[Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and Train.
Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them,
I will not send them:-I will after straight,
And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,
Although it be with hazard of my head.

Hot. If he fall in, good night :-or sink or
swim:-

Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it from the north to south,
And let them grapple ;-O! the blood more stirs,
To rouse a lion, than to start a hare.

North. Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,
To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced

moon;

Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;

North. What, drunk with choler? Stay, and pause So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear,

awhile;

Here comes your uncle.

Re-enter WORCESTER.

Hot. Speak of Mortimer?

Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
Want mercy, if I do not join with him:
Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins,
And shed my dear blood drop by drop i' the dust,
But I will lift the down trod Mortimer
As high i' the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.
North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew
[To Worcester.
Wor. Who struck this heat up, after I was gone?
Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;
And when I urged the ransome once again
Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale;
And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
Wor. I cannot blame him :-Was he not pro-
claim'd,

mad.

By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?
North. He was; I heard the proclamation:
And then it was, when the unhappy king
(Whose wrongs in us God pardon!) did set forth
Upon his Irish expedition;

From whence he, intercepted, did return
To be deposed, and, shortly murdered.

Wor. And for whose death, we in the world's
wide mouth

Live scandalized, and foully spoken of.

Without corrival, all her dignities:

But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures || here,
But not the form of what he should attend.-
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
Hot. I cry you mercy.

Wor. Those same noble Scots,
That are your prisoners,--
Hot. I'll keep them all;

By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them:
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I'll keep them, by this hand.

Wor. You start away,
And lend no ear unto my purposes.-
Those prisoners you shall keep.

Hot. Nay, I will; that's flat :-
He said, he would not ransome Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla-Mortimer!
Nay,

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. Hear you,

Cousin; a word.

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy ¶,
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
And that same sword-and-buckler ** prince of
Wales,

But that I think his father loves him not,
And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I'd have him poison'd with a pot of ale.

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 scourged
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 Gloucestershire;-

Twas 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!-God forgive 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 ransome 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,

[To Northumberland. 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 1,

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 'tis no little reason bids us speed,*
To save our heads by raising of a head 3:
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king we 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.
When time is ripe, (which will be suddenly,)
I'll steal to Glendower, and lord Mortimer;
Where you and Douglas, and our powers at once,
(As I will fashion it,) shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
North. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive,

I trust.

Hot. Uncle, adieu :-0, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans, applaud our sport! [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I-Rochester.-An Inn Yard. Enter a CARRIER, with a Lantern in his Hand. A 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!

1 Conjecture.

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 t.

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 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 villainous house in all London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.

1 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.

2 Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jorden, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach T.

1 Car. 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 starved.-What, ostler!-A plague on thee! Hast thou never an eye in thy head? Canst not hear? An 'twere 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? Enter GADS HILL.

Gads. Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? 1 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 two of that, i' faith.

Cads. I pr'ythee, lend me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? Canst tell?-Lend me thy lan tern, quoth at-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, I warrant thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen; they will along with company, for they have great charge. [Exeunt Carriers. Gads. What, hol chamberlain !

Cham. [Within.] At hand, quoth pick-purse **. Gads. That's even as fair as-at hand, quoth the chamberlain: for thou variest no more from picking of purses, than giving direction doth from la bouring; thou lay'st the plot how.

Enter CHAMBERLAIN.

Cham. Good morrow, master Gadshill. It holds current, that I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the wild of Kent, hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company, last night at supper: a kind of auditor; one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They are up al ready, and call for eggs and butter: they will away presently.

Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

Cham. No, I'll none of it: I pr'ythee, keep that for the hangman; for, I know, thou worship'st Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.

Gads. What talk'st thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows: for, if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me; and, thou know'st, he's no starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou dream'st not of, the which, for sport sake, are content to do the profession some grace; that would, if matters should be look'd into, for their own credit sake, make all whole. I am join'd with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers; none of these mad, mustachio, purple-hued malt-worms: but with nobility, and tranquillity; burgomasters, and great oneyers; such as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray and

Mind, humour.

+ Sugared. A body of forces.

ready.

The constellation ursa major.

Cant term for highwaymen. Public accountants.

+Freeholder.

Footpads.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, to which are Added His ..., Tom 1