The Road by Gadshill.

Enter Prince HENRY, and POINS; BARDOLPH and PETO, at some distance.

Poins.

OME, shelter, shelter: I have removed
Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gumm'd

velvet.

P. Hen. Stand close.

Enter FALSTAFF.

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

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 square 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. Poins!——— Hal!-a plague upon you both!-Bardolph!-Peto! -I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. Eight yards of uneven ground, is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true one to another! [They whistle.] Whew!-A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you rogues; give me my horse, and be hang'd.

P. Hen. Peace! lie down; lay thine ear close to

the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers.

Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

P. Hen. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art ùncolted.

Fal. I pr'ythee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse good king's son.

P. Hen. Out, you rogue! shall I be your òstler? Fal. Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you all, let a cup of sack be my poison: When a jest is so forward, and afoot too, I hate it.

Gads. Stand!

Enter GADShill.

Fal. So I do, against my will.

[Bardolph comes forward. Gads. Case ye, case ye; on with your visors; there's money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's exchequer.

Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the king's tàvern.

P. Hen. You four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape from your encounter, then they light on us. Fal. But how many be there of them?

Gads. Some eight, or ten.

Fal. 'Zounds! will they not rob ùs?

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. We'll leave that to the proof.

Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge; when thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast.

P. Hen. Ned, where are our disguises?

[Aside to Poins.

Poins. Here, hard by; stand close.

[Exeunt P. Hen. and Poins. Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business.

Enter Travellers.

I Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall leàd our horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand!

Fal. Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: Ah! caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth: down with them; fleece them. What, ye knaves? young men must live: You are grand-jurors are ye? We'll jure ye, i'faith.

[Exeunt Fal. &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, Falstaff

roaring, and leaving the booty behind them. P. Hen. Got with much ease. Now merrily to

horse:

Away, good Ned. Now 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.

Warkworth.

A Room in the Castle.

Enter HOTSPUR, reading a Letter.

UT, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the

me see some more.

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 bàrn better than he loves our house. Let 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. 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! By the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: an èxcellent 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 fàn. 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! lèt 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?