throats: Ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; fleece them.

1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours, for

ever.

Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves; Are ye undone? 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. [Exeunt FALS., &c., driving the Travellers out.

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS.

P. Hen. 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.

Re-enter Thieves.

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 valour in that Poins than in a wild duck.

P. Hen. Your money. [Rushing out upon them.
Poins. Villains.

[As they are sharing, the PRINCE and POINS set
upon them.
They all run away; and FAL-

STAFF, after a blow or two, runs away too,
leaving the booty behind.b

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear

a Chuffs. The word chuff seems to mean a swollen, pampered glutton.

b The original stage-direction has been inconsiderately deviated from in the modern editions, which read, "Falstaff, after a blow or two, and the rest, run away;" whereas Falstaff, staying behind after the rest have run away, and giving "a blow or two," is clearly not the coward which it has been the fashion to consider him.

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:
Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-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 house."-He could be contented,-Why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house : -he shows in this, he 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; 't is dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, 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 have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so 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! I protest, our plot is as good a 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 month? and are they

not, some of them, set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall 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 skimmed milk with so 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 banish'd woman 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 start so often when thou sitt'st alone?
Why hast 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 slumbers 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; a of trenches, tents;
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin;

Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the current of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,

a Retires-retreats.

b Frontiers. A frontier is something standing in front. Thus the frontier of a territory is the part opposed to, fronting, another territory; and in this way a fort is a frontier, es in this passage.

And thus hath so bestirr'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: Esperancé!"—

Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. [Exit Servant. Lady. But hear you, my lord.

Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?

Lady. What is it carries you away?
Hot. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!

A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss'd with. In sooth,

I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title; and hath sent for you,
To line his enterprise: But if you go-

Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I shall ask.

a Esperance. This is the motto of the Percy family.

In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
Hot. Away,

Away, you trifler!-Love?—I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too.-Gods me, my horse!—
What say'st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have with
me?

Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
Well, do not then; for, since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me, if you speak in jest, or no.
Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?

And when I am a horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no further wise
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are,
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I will believe

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate!

Lady. How! so far?

Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: Whither I go thither shall you go too;

To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.

Will this content you, Kate?

Lady.

It must of force. [Exeunt.

a Mammets-puppets.