Each takes his fellow for an officer. SCENE V. Lord Percy's Houfe. [Exeunt. But for mine own part, my Lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your boufe. He could be contented to be there; why is he not then? in refpect of the love he bears our houfe: he fhews in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me fee fome more. The purpofe you undertake is dangerous. Why, that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to fleep, to drink; but I tell you, my Lord fool, out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower fafety. The purpose. you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named uncertain, the time it felf unforted, and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize of fo great an oppofition. Say you fo, fay you fo? I fay unto you again, you are a fhallow 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 conftant: a good plot, good friends, and full of ex pectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frofty-fpirited rogue is this! Why, my Lord of York commends the plot, and the general courfe of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rafcai, I could brain him with his Lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and my felf, Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not befides, the Douglas? have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are there not fome of them fet forward already? What a Pagan rascal is this! an infidel. Ha! you fhall fee now, in very fincerity of fear and cold heart will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide my felf, and go to buffets, for moving fuch a difh of fkimm'd milk with fo honourable an action. Hang him, let him tell the King. We are prepared. I will fet forward to-night. C 2 SCENE SCENE VI. Enter Lady Percy. How now, Kate! I muft leave you within thefe two hours. A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? Of bafilifks, of cannon, culverin, And in thy face ftrange motions have appear'd, And I must know it; elfe he loves me not. Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone? Serv. He is, my Lord, an hour agone. Hot. Hath Butler brought thofe horfes from the Sheriff Hot That roan fhall be my throne. Well, I will back him ftrait. O Esperance! [Exit Serv. Lady. Lady. But hear you, my Lord. Lady. What is it carries you away? Hot. Why, my horfe, my love, my horfe. Hot. answer me So far afoot, I fhall be weary, love. Hot. Away, you trifler: love! I love thee not, To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips. gods me! my horse! Thou wilt not utter what thou doft not know, Lady. How! fo far? Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you me, Kate, C 3 Whither I go, thither fhall you go too : Lady. It muft of force. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. The Tavern in Eaft-cheap. P. Henry. Ned, pr'ythee come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little. Poins. Where haft been, Hal ? P. Henry. With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or fourfcore hogfheads. I have founded the very bafe ftring of humility. Sirrah, I am fworn brother to a leafh of drawers, and can call them by their Chriftian names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their confcience that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King of courtefie; telling me flatly, I am no proud Jack, like Jack Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy: and when I am King of England, I fhall command all the good lads in Eaft-cheap. They call drinking deep, dying fcarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they cry, bem! and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am fo good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own lan guage during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou haft loft much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action; but, fweet Ned, to fweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of fugar, clapt even now into my hand by an under fkinker, one that never fpake other English in his life, than Eight Shillings and Six Pence, and You are welcome Sir: with this fhrill addition, Anon, Sir, anon, Sir; Score a pint of baftard in the half moon, or fo. But, Ned, to drive away time 'till Falstaff come, pr'ythee, do thou ftand in fome by-room, while I question my puny drawer, to what end he gave me the fugar: and do never leave calling Francis, that his tale to me may be nothing but, anon. Step afide, and I'll fhew thee a precedent. [Pains retires, Poins. Francis! P. Henry. Thou art perfect. SCENE SCENE VIII. Enter Francis the Draven. Ralph. P. Henry. Come hither, Francis. Fran. My Lord. P. Henry. How long hast thou to ferve, Francis? Fran, Anon, anon, Sir. P. Henry, Five years; by'rlady, a long leafe for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, dareft thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indenture, and fhew it a fair pair of heels, and run from it? Fran. O Lord, Sir, I'll be fworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heart Poins. Francis! Fran. Anon, anon, Sir. P. Henry. How old art thou, Francis ? Fran. Let me fee, about Michaelmas next I fhall be→→→→ Poins. Francis ! Fran. Anon, Sir; pray you stay a little, my Lord, P. Henry. Nay, but hark you, Francis, for the fugar thou gavest me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not? Fran. O Lord, I would it had been two. P. Henry. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: alk me when thou wilt, and thou, shalt have it. Poins. Francis ! Fran. Anon, anon. P. Henry. Anon, Francis? no, Francis, but to-morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or indeed, Francis when thou wilt. But, Francis! Fran. My Lord. P. Henry, Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, cryftal button, knot-pated, agat-ring, puke-ftocking, caddicegarter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch? Fran. O Lord, Sir, who do you mean? P. Henry. Why then your brown baftard is your only drink; for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will fully. In Barbary, Sir, it cannot come to fo much. Fran. What, Sir? Poins. |