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SCENE III.-The same. Another room in the Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, palace. Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt, and So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns, others. He would himself have been a soldier.

K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and tem- This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,

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 sovereign liege, little de-

serves

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 frontier 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.
[To North.
Yea, my good lord.
Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
Were, 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.

You were about to speak.
North.

Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil,
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,
Show'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 smil'd, 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 terms

He question'd me; among the rest demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

I 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 made 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 villanous salt-petre should be digg'd

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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,

To such a person and in such a place,
Whatever Harry Percy then had said,
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.
K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners;
But with proviso, and exception,-

That we, at our own charge, shall ransom 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 indents 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 ransom 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 hardiment10 with great Glendower:
Three times they breath'd, 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.
Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Never did bare and rotten policy

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 dost
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:
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 ccme and roar for them, I will not send them:-I will after straight,

(5) Parrot. (6) Pain.
(8) Sign an indenture.
(10) Hardiness.

(7) Brave. (9) Expend. (11) Curled.

And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,
Although it be with hazard of my head.

And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents

North. What, drunk with choler? stay, and I'll read you matter deep and dangerous;

pause a while;

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
mad.
[To Worcester.
Wor. Who struck this heat up, after I was gone?
Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;
And when I urg'd the ransom 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 proclaim'd,
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 depos'd, and shortly, murdered.

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

Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of.

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 starv'd.
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 show 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 farther 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.

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Peace, cousin, say no more:

(2) The dog-rose.

(4) A rival. (5) Friendship. (6) Shapes created by his imagination.

As full of peril, and advent'rous spirit,
As to o'er-walk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

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-fac'd 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;
So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear,
Without corrival, all her dignities:
But out upon this half-fac'd 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 ransom 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.

Cousin, a word.

Hear you,

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 scourg'd
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 bowed 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:-

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Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. Deliver them up without their ransom straight, And make the Douglas' son your only mean For powers in Scotland; which,-for divers reasons, Which I shall send you written,-be assur'd, 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 belov'd, 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,2

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 will 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 reveng'd 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,

trust.

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I'll be hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostier!

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.

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 turned upside down, since Robin ostler died.

1 Car. Poor fellow! never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him.

2 Car. I think, this be the most villanous 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. io'

1 Car. What, ostler! come away and be hanged,

come away.

2 Car. I have a gammon of bacon, and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.

1 Car. 'Odsbody! the turkeys 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 hanged:-Hast no faith in thee? Enter Gadshill.

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.

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? canst tell?-Lend me thy lantern, quoth-a ?-marry, I'll see thee hanged

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. [Ere. Carriers. Gads. What, ho! 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 labour ing; thou lay'st the plot how.

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Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicho- miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains las' clerks, I'll give thee this neck. know it well enough: A plague upon't, when Cham. No, I'll none of it: I pr'ythee keep that thieves cannot be true to one another! [They whisfor the hangman; for, I know, thou worship'st tle.] Whew!-A plague upon you all! Give me Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may. my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be Gads. What talkest thou to me of the hangman? hanged.

if I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows: for, if I P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine hang, old sir John hangs with me; and, thou ear close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear knowest, he's no starveling. Tut! there are other the tread of travellers.

Trojans that thou dreamest not of, the which, for Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, sport sake, are content to do the profession some being down? "Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh grace; that would, if matters should be looked so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's into, for their own credit sake, make all whole. I exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt'i me am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, thus?

six-penny strikers; none of these mad, mustachio,P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art purple-hued malt-worms: but with nobility, and uncolted. tranquility; burgomasters, and great oneyers ;3

Fal. I pr'ythee, good prince Hal, help me to my

such as can hold in: such as will strike sooner than horse; good king's son.

speak, and speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner P. Hen. Out, you rogue! shall I be your ostler? than pray: And yet I lie; for they pray continually Fal. Go, hang thyself in thy own heir-apparent to their saint, the commonwealth; or, rather, not garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I pray to her, but prey on her; for they ride up and have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy down on her, and make her their boots.4 tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: When a jest is so forward, and afoot too, I hate it. Enter Gadshill.

Cham. What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold out water in foul way?

Gads. She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, cock-sure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

Cham. Nay, by my faith; I think you are more beholden to the night, than to fern-seed, for your walking invisible.

Gads. Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true' man.

6

Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are false thief.

a

Gads. Go to; Homo is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The road by Gadshill. Enter Prince Henry and Poins; Bardolph and Peto at some distance.

Poins. Come, shelter, shelter; I have removed Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. P. Hen. Stand close.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! P. Hen. Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal; What brawling dost thou keep!

a

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on us.

Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight, or ten.

Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?

P. Hen. What, a coward, sir John Paunch? Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal.

P. Hen. Well, we leave that to the proof. Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge; when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.

P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins. Here, hard by; stand close.

Fal. Where's Poins, Hal? P. Hen. He is walked up to the top of the hill; I'll go seek him. [Pretends to seek Poins. Fal. I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the squire further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I say I; every man to his business. have forsworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty years, and yet I am bewitched

[Exeunt P. Henry and Poins. Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole,12

Enter Travellers.

Thieves. Stand.

Trav. Jesu bless us!

with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not 1 Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot awhile, and hanged; it could not be else; I have drunk medi-ease our legs. cines.-Poins!-Hal!-a plague upon you both!Bardolph!-Peto!-I'll starve, ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good a deed as drink to Fal. Strike, down with them; cut the villains' turn true1o man, and leave these rogues, I am the throats: Ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth. Eight knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; yards of uneven ground, is threescore and ten fleece them.

(1) Cant term for highwaymen.

Footpads. (3) Public accountants.
Booty. (5) Oiled, smoothed her over.

(6) In what we acquire. (7) Honest.
(8) Square. (9) Love-powder. (10) Honest.
(11) Make a voungster of me. (12) Portion

1 Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity for ever. of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied' knaves; Are ye un- open all our proceedings. O, I could divide mydone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would, your store self, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish o were here! On, bacons, on! What, ye knaves? skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang young men must live: You are grand-jurors, are him! let him tell the king: We are prepared: I ye? We'll jure will set forward to-night. [Exeunt Fal. &c. driving the Travellers out.

ye,

i'faith.

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. Villians.

[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set
upon them. Falstaff, after a blow or two,
and the rest, run away, leaving their booty
behind them.]

P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily to
horse :

The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear
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:
Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd! [Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Warkworth. Aroom in the castle.
Enter Hotspur, reading a letter.

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 sit'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; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin;
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
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.

Hot.
What say'st, my lady?
Lady. What is it carries you away?
Hot.

-But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I beer 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; 'tis 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. That roan shall be my throne. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous; the Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!"— friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. [Ex. Serv. unsorted; and your whole plot too light, for the Lady. But hear you, my lord. 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 lackbrain is this? By the Lord, our plot is a good plot My love, my horse. as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: Lady. a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen, an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-As you are toss'd with. In faith, spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York com- I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. mends the plot, and the general course of the I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I About his title; and hath sent for you, could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not To lines his enterprize: But if you gomy father, my uncle, and myself? lord Edmund Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary love. Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Lady. Come, come, you paraquito,' answer me Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all Directly to this question that I ask. their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, next month? and are they not, some of them, set An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an Hot. Away,

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My horse

Out, you mad-headed ape!

Away, you trifler!-Love?-I love thee not,

(7) Motto of the Percy family.
(8) Strengthen. (9) Parrot.

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