have the hanging of the Thieves, and fo become a rare Hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well, and in fome fort it jumps with my Humour, as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell you. P. Henry. For obtaining of Suits?

Fal Yea, for obtaining of Suits, whereof the Hangman hath no lean Wardrobe. I am as melancholy as a Gyb-Cat, or a lugg'd Bear.

P. Henry. Or an old Lion, or a Lover's Lute.
Fal. Yea, or the Drone of a Lincoln fhire Bagpipe.

P. Henry. What fay'ft thou to a Hare, or the Melancholy of Moor-Ditch?

Fal. Thou haft the most unfavoury Similes, and art indeed the most comparative rafcalleft fweet young Prince. But, Hal, I prithee trouble me no more with Vanity; I would 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 wifely, and in the Street too.

P. Henry. Thou didft well; for no Man regards it.

Fal. O, thou haft damnable Iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a Saint. Thou haft done much harm unto me, Hal, God forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now I am, if a Man fhould speak truly, little better than one of the Wicked. I must give over this Life, and I will give it over; and I do not, I am a Villain. I'll be damned for never a King's Son in Christendom.

P. Henry. Where fhall we take a Purfe to Morrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, Lad, I'll make one; and I do not, call me Villain, and baffle me.

P. Henry. I fee a good Amendment of Life in thee, from Praying to Purfe-taking.

Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my Vocation, Hal. 'Tis no fin for a Man to labour in his Vocation.

Peins. Now fhall we know if Gads-hill have fet a Watch. O, if Men were to be faved by Merit; what Hole in Hell were hot enough for him? This is the moft omnipotent Villain, that ever cry'd, Stand, to a true Man.

P. Henry. Good morrow, Ned.

Poins. Good morrow, fweet Hal. What fays Monfieur

:

Remorse?

Remorse? What fays Sir John Sack and Sugar? Fack! How agrees the Devil and thee about thy Soul, that thou foldeft him on Good-Friday laft, for a Cup of Madera, and a cold Capon's Leg?

P. Henry. Sir John stands to his Word, the Devil fhall 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.Henry. Elfe he had been damn'd for cozening the Devil. Poins. But, my Lads, my Lads, to morrow Morning, by four a Clock early at Gads-Hill, there are Pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich Offerings, and Traders riding to London with fat Purfes. I have Vizards for you all; you have Horses for your felves; Gads-Hill lyes to Night in Rochefter, I have befpoke Supper to morrow in Eaft-cheap; we may do it as fecure as fleep: If you will go, I will stuff your Purfes full of Crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hang'd.

Fal. Hear ye redward, 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. Henry. Who, I rob? I a Thief? not I.

Fal. There's neither Honefty, Manhood, nor good Fellowhip in thee, nor thou cam'ft not of the Blood Royal, if thou dar'st not stand for ten Shillings.

P. Henry. Well then, once in my Days I'll be a mad-cap.
Fal. Why, that's well faid.

P. Henry. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
Fal. I'll be a Traitor then, when thou art King.

P. Henry. I care not.

Poins. Sir John, I prithee leave the Prince and me alone, I will lay him down fuch Reasons for this Adventure, that he shall go.

Fal. Well, may'st thou have the Spirit of Perfuafion, and he the Ears of profiting; that what thou fpeak'ft may move, and what he hears may be believ'd; that the true Prince may, for Recreation fake, prove a falfe Thief; for the poor Abuses of the time, want Countenance. Farewel, you shall find me in Eaft-cheap.

P. Henry.

P. Henry. Farewel the latter Spring. Farewel allhollown

Summer.

[Exit Fal. Poins. Now, my good fweet hony Lord, ride with us to morrow. I bave a Jeft to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Harvey, Reffil, and Gads-Hill, fhall rob those Men that we have already way-laid; your self and I 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. Henry. But how fhall we part with them in fetting forth? Poins. Why, we will fet forth before or after them, and appoint them a Place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleafure to fail; and then will they venture upon the Exploit themselves, which they have no fooner atchiev'd, but we'll fet upon them.

P. Henry. Ay but 'tis like that they will know us by our Horfes, by our Habits, and by every other Appointment to be our felves.

Poins. Tut, our Horfes they fhall not fee, I'll tye them in the Wood; our Vizards we will change after we leave them; and Sirrah, I have Cafes of Buckram for the ronce to immask our noted outward Garments.

P. Henry. But I doubt they will be too hard for us.

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 fees Reafon, I'll forfwear Arms. The virtue of this Jeft will be, the incomprehenfible Lies that this fat Rogue will tell us, when we meet at Supper; how thirty at leaft he fought with, what Words, what Blows, what Extremities he endured; and in the Reproof of this, yes the Jeft.

P. Henry. Well, I'll go with thee, provide us all things neceffary, and meet me to morrow Night in Eaft-cheap, there I'll fup. Farewel.

Poins. Farewel, my Lord.

[Exit Poins.

P. Henry. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyoak'd Humour of

your Idleness;

Yet herein will I imitate the Sun,

Who doth permit the bafe contagious Clouds
To fmother up his Beauty from the World;
That when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wondred at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly Mifts

Of

Of Vapours, that did feem to ftrangle him.
If all the Year were playing Holidays,
To fport would be as tedious as to work;

Bnt when they feldom come, they wisht-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 fo much fhall I falfifie Mens Hopes;
And like bright Metal on a fullen Ground
My Reformation glittering o'er my Fault
Shall fhew more goodly, and attract more Eyes,
Than that which hath no Soil to fet it off.
I'll fo offend, to make Offence a Skill,
Redeeming time, when Men think leaft I. will.

SCENE III.

[Exit.

Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Worcester, Hot-fpur, Sir Walter Blunt, and others.

K. Henry. My Blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to ftir at thefe Indignities,

And you have found me; for accordingly,
You tread upon my Patience: But be fure,

I will from henceforth rather be my felf,
Mighty, and to be fear'd, then my Condition,

Which hath been fmooth as Oil, foft as young Down,
And therefore loft the Title of Refpect,

Which the proud never pays, but to the proud.

Wor. Our Houfe, my Soveraign Liege, little deferves
The Scourge of Greatnefs to be used on it,

And that fame Greatnefs too, which our own Hands,
Have holp to make fo portly.

North. My Lord.

K. Henry. Worcester get thee gone, for I do fee
Danger and Difobedience in thine Eye.

O Sir, your Prefence is too bold and peremptory,
And Majefty might never yet endure

The moody Frontier of a Servant Brow,

You

You have good Leave to leave us. When we need

Your Ufeand Counsel, we fhall fend for you.[Exit Worcester.

You were about to speak.

North. Yes, my good Lord.

[To Northumberland.

Those Prisoners in your Highness Name demanded,

Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

Were, as he fays, not with fuch Strength deny'd
As was deliver'd to your Majefty;

Who either through Envy, or Mifprifion,
Was 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 extream Toil,
Breathlefs, and faint, leaning upon my Sword,
Came there a certain Lord, neat and trimly drefs'd;
Fresh as a Bridegroom, and his Chin new reap'd,
Shew'd like a Stubble Land at Harveft 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 ftill he fmil'd and talk'd;
And as the Soldiers bare dead Bodies by,
He call'd them untaught Knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a flovenly, unhandfome Coarfe
Betwixt the Wind, and his Nobility.
With many Holiday and Lady Terms
He queftion'd me: Among the reft, demanded
My Prisoners, in your Majefty's behalf.

I then, all-fmarting with my Wounds, being cold,
To be fo peftered with a Popingay,

Out of my Grief, and my Impatience,
Anfwer'd, neglectingly, I know not what,
He should or fhould not; for he made me mad,
To fee him fhine fo brisk, and smell fo fweet,

And talk fo like a waiting-Gentlewoman,

Of Guns, and Drums, and Wounds; God fave the Mark;

And telling me, the Soveraign'ft thing on Earth

Was Parmacity, for an inward Bruife;

And that it was great Pity, fo it was,

That