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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. 'Zounds, an 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 skimm'd 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 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, Couragel-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 bestir'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat bave 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

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.

That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! -
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

[Exit Servant. Lady. But hear you, my lord. Hot.

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

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 faith,
I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir
About bis title; and hath sent for you
To line bis enterprize: 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 ask. 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 3, 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 would'st 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 o'horse-back, 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 well 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


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. (Ezeunt.


Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern.

Enter Prince Henry and Poins. P. Hen. Ned, pr’ythee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little.

Poins. Where hast been, Hal?

P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very base string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their Christian names, as-Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that, though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff; but a Corinthian 32, a lad of mettle, a good boy,- by the Lord, so they call me; and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good Jads in Eastcheap. They call--drinking deep, dying scarlet: and when you breathe in your watering, they cry—hem! and bid you play it off.—To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned, -to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'd even now into my hand by an under-skinker 33; one that never spake other English in his life, thanEight shillings and sixpence, and—You are welcome; with this shrill addition,- Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon, or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I pr’ythee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer, to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling-Francis, that his

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