Fal. And I hear moreover, his Highness is fall'n into this fame whorfon apoplexy.

Cb. Juft. Well, heav'n mend him! I pray, let me fpeak

with you.

Fal. This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't pleafe your Lordship, a kind of fleeping in the blood, a whorfon tingling.

Ch. Juft. What tell you me of it? be it as it is.

Fal. It hath its original from much grief; from ftudy and perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of it in Galen. It is a kind of deafnefs.

Ch. Juft. I thing you are fall'n into that difeafe: for you hear not what I say to you.

Fal. Very well, my Lord, very well: rather, an't please you, it is the disease of not lift'ning, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal.

Ch. Juft. To punish you by the heels, would amend the attention of your ears; and I care not if I be your physician. Fal. I am as poor as Job, my Lord, but not fo patient: your Lordship may minifter the potion of imprisonment to me, in refpect of poverty; but how I fhould be your pa tient to follow your prescriptions, the wife may make some dram of a fcruple, or indeed, a fcruple it felf.

Cb. Juft. I fent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to fpeak with me.

Fal. As I was then advis'd by my Counsel learned in the laws of this land-fervice, I did not come.

Ch. Juft. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.

Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in lefs. Ch. Juft. Your means are very flender, and your wafte great.

Fal. I would it were otherwife: I would my means were greater, and my waste slenderer.

Cb. Juft. You have mif-led the youthful Prince.
Fal. The young Prince hath mis-led me.

low with the great belly, and he my dog.

I am the fel

Cb. Juft. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound; your day's fervice at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over VOL. Y.

your

your night's exploit on Gads-bill. You may thank the un. quiet time, for your quiet o'er-pofting that action.

Fal. My Lord?

Ch. Juft. But fince all, is well, keep it so: wake not a neeping Wolf.

Fal. To wake a Wolf, is as bad as to smell a Fox.

Ch. Juft. What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out.

Fal. A waffel candle, my Lord; all tallow : but if I did fay of wax, my growth would approve the truth.

Ch. Juft. There is not a white hair on your face, but fhould have his effect of gravity.

Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.

Ch. Juft. You follow the young Prince up and down, like his ill angel.

Fal. Not fo, my Lord, your ill angel is light: but I hope he that looks upon me, will take me without weighing; and yet, in fome refpects I grant, I cannot go; - I can not tell; Virtue is of fo little regard in these cofter-mongers days, that true valour is turned bear-herd. Pregnancy is made a tapfter, and hath his quick wit wafted in giving recknings; all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age fhapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that are old, confider not the capacities of us that are young; you measure the heat of our livers, with the bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confefs are wags too.

Ch. Juft. Do you fet down your name in the fcrowl of youth, that are written down old, with all the characters of age have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreafing leg? an increafing belly is not your voice broken? your wind fhort? your chin double? your wit fingle? and every part about you blafted with antiquity? and will you yet call your self young? fie, fie, fie, Sir John.

Fal. My Lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and fomething a round belly. For my voice, I have loft it with hallowing and finging of Anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not, The truth is, I am only old in judgment and un

der

derstanding, and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the mony, and have at him. For the box o' th' ear that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a rude Prince, and you took it like a fenfible Lord. I have checkt him for it, and the young Lion repents: marry, not in ashes and fack-cloth, but in new filk and old fack. Ch. Juft. Well, heav'n fend the Prince a better companion!

Fal. Heav'n fend the companion a better Prince! I cannot rid my hands of him.

Ch. Juft. Well, the King hath fever'd you and Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord John of Lan-` cafter, against the Archbishop and the Earl of Northum berland.

Fal. Yes, I thank your pretty fweet wit for it; but look you pray, all you that kifs my Lady peace at home, that our armies join not in a hot day: for I take but two fhirts out with me, and I mean not to fweat extraordina→ rily if it be a hot day, if I brandifh any thing but a bottle, would I might never fpit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot laft ever. — -but it was always the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too common. If you will needs fay I am an old man, you fhou'd give me reft: I would to God my name were not fo terrible to the enemy as it is! I were better to be eaten to death with a ruft, than to be fcour'd to nothing with perpetual motion.

Ch. Juft. Well, be honest, be honeft, and heav'n bless your expedition!

Fal. Will your Lordship lend me a thousand pound, to furnish me forth?

Ch. Juft. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impa tient to bear croffes. Fare you well. Commend me to my coufin Westmorland. [Exit. Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man-beetle. A man can no more feparate age and covetoufnefs, than he can part young limbs and letchery: but the gout galls the * Three-man-beetle, i. e. a rammer big enough to require three men to lift it.

one, and the pox pinches the other, and fo both the de grees prevent my curfes. Boy!

Page. Sir.

Fal. What mony is in my purfe?

Page. Seven groats, and two pence.

Fal. I can get no remedy against this confumption of the purfe. Borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the difeafe is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earl of Weftmorland, and this to old. Mrs. Urfula, whom I have weekly fworn to marry fince I perceiv'd the firft white hair on my chin, About it; you know where to find me. A pox of this gout! or a gout of this pox! for the one or th' other plays the rogue with my great toe: it is no matter, if I do halt, I have the wars for my colour, and my penfion fhall feem the more reasonable: a good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn difeafes to commodity. [Exeunt, SCENE VI. Archbishop of York's Palace. Enter Archbifbop of York, Haftings, Thomas Mowbray (Earl Marfbal) and Lord Bardolph.

C

York. Thus have you heard our caufe, and know our

means :

Now, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes ;
And firft, Lord Marshal, what fay you to it?

Mowb. I well allow th' occafion of our arms,
But gladly would be better fatisfied

How in our means we fhould advance our felves,
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the pow'r and puiffance of the King.

Haft. Our prefent mufters grow upon the file
To five and twenty thousand men of choice:
And our fupplies live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.

Bard. The queftion then, Lord Haflings, ftandeth thus;

Whether our present five and twenty thousand

May hold up head without Northumberland?

Haft. With him we may.

Bard. Ay marry, there's the point:

But

But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My judgment is, we should not ftep too far
'Till we had his affiftance by the hand.
For in a theam fo bloody-fac'd as this,
Conjecture, expectation and furmife

Of aids uncertain, should not be admitted.

York. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed It was young Hot-fpur's cafe at Shrewsbury.

Bard. It was, my Lord, who lin'd himself with hope, Eating the air on promife of fupply,

Flatt'ring himself with project of a power

Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;

And fo, with great imagination,

Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And, winking, leap'd into deftruction.

Haft. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
Bard. Yes, if this prefent quality of war
Impede the inftant act; a cause on foot
Lives fo in hope, as in an early fpring
We fee th'appearing buds; which to prove fruit,
Hope gives not fo much warrant, as defpair

That frofts will bite them. When we mean to build

We first furvey the plot, then draw the model,

And when we fee the figure of the house,

Then muft we rate the coft of the erection;

Which if we find out-weighs ability,

What do we then but draw a-new the model

In fewer offices? or elfe, defift

To build at all? much more, in this great work,
(Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down,
And fet another up) fhould we furvey

The plot of fituation, and the model;
Confent upon a fure foundation,

Queftion furveyors, know our own estate,
How able fuch a work to undergo,
To weigh againft his oppofite; or else,
We fortifie in paper and in figures,
Ufing the names of men inftead of men:
Like one that draws the model of a house,