Iuft. You follow the yong prince vp and downe, like his ill angell.

Falft. Not fo my lord, your ill angell is light, but I hope he that lookes vpon me will take me without weighing, and yet in fome refpects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell, ver tue is of fo little regard in thefe coftar-mongers times, that true valour is turned berod, pregnancie is made a tapfter, and his quick wit wafted in giuing reckonings, all the other giftes appertinent to man, as the malice of his age fhapes the one not worth a goofberry, you that are old confider not the capacities of vs that are yong, you doe measure the heate of our liuers with the bitterneffe of your galles, and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confeffe are waggos too.

Lo. Do you fet downe your name in the fcroule of youth, that are written downe, old with all the characters of age? haue you not a moift eie, a dry hand, a yelow cheeke, a white beard, a decreafing leg, an increafing belly? is not your voice broken, your winde fhort, your chinne double, your wit fingle, and euery part about you blafted with antiquitie, and will you yet call your felfe yong? fie, fie, fie, fir John.

Iohn. My lorde, I was borne about three of the clocke in the afternoone, with a white head, and fomething a round bellie, for my voyce, I haue loft it with hallowing, and finging of anthems: to approoue my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudgement and vnderstanding: and hee that wil caper with me for a thoufand markes, let him lend me the money, and haue at him for the boxe of the yeere that the prince gaue you, he gaue it like a rude prince, and you tooke it like a fenfible lord: I haue checkt him for it, and the yong lion repents, mary not in afhes and fackloth, but in new filke, and old facke.

Lord. Well, God fend the prince a better companion.

Ichn. God fend the companion a better prince, I cannot ridde my hands of him.

Lord. Well, the king hath feuerd you: I heare you are go. ing with lord Iohn. of Lancaster, against the archbishop and the earle of Northumberland.

John. Yea, I thanke your prety fweet witte for it: but looke you pray, all you that kiffe my lady peace at home, that our armies ioyne not in a hote day, for, by the Lord, I take but two fhirts out with me, and I meane not to fweate extraordi narily if it be a hot day, and I brandifh any thing but a bottle. I would I might neuer fpit white again: there is not a dangerous action can peepe out his head, but I am thrust vpon it. Wel, I cannot laft euer, but it was alway yet the tricke of our English nation, if they haue a good thing, to make it too common. If yee will needs fay I am an olde man, you should giue me reft: I would to God my name were not fo terrible to the enemy as it is, I were better to be eaten to death with a ruft, than to be fcoured to nothing with perpetuall motion.

Lord. Well, be honest, be honest, and God bleffe your expedition.

Ichn. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me forth?

Lord. Not a penny, not a penny, you are too impatient to beare croffes: fare you well: commend mee to my coofine Weftmerland.

Iohn. If I do, fillip me with a three man beetle: a man can no more feparate age and couetoufneffe, than a can part yong limbs and lechery, but the gowt galles the one, and the pox pinches the other, and fo both the degrees preuent my curfes, boy.

Boy. Sir.

John. What money is in my purfe?
Bay, Seuen groates and two pence.

John. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse, borrowing onely lingers and lingers it out, but the difeafe is incurable go beare this letter to my lord of Lancaster, this to the prince, this to the earle of Westmerland, and this to olde mistris Vrfula, whome I haue weekely fworne to marry fince I perceiud the first white haire of my chin: about it, you know where to finde me: a pox of this gowt, or a gowt of this pox, for the one or the other playes the rogue with my great toe. Tis no matter if I doe hault, I haue the warres for my color, and my penfion fhal feeme the more reasonable: a good wit will make vse of any thing; I will turne diseases to commoditie.

Enter th'archbishop, Thomas Mowbray (earle marshall) the lord Haftings, Fauconbridge, and Bardolfe.

Bishop. Thus haue you heard our caufe, and knowne our

meanes,

And my most noble friends, I pray you al
Speake plainely your opinions of our hopes,
And firft lord marfhall, what fay you to it?

Marfb. I well allow the occafion of our armes,
But gladly would be better satisfied,

How in our meanes we should aduance our felues,
To looke with forehead, bold, and big enough,
Vpon the power and puiffance of the king.

Haft. Our present mufters grow vpon the file,
To fiue and twenty thoufand men of choife,
And our fupplies liue largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whofe bofome burnes
With an incensed fire of iniuries.

Bard. The queftion then lord Haftings ftandeth thus,
Whether our present fiue and twentie thousand,

May hold vp head without Northumberland.

Haft. With him we may.

VOL. II.

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Bard.

Bard. Yea mary, theres the point,

But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My iudgment is we should not step too far.

Bifh. Tis very true lord Bardolfe, for indeede
It was young Hot-Spurs cause at Shrewsbury.

Bard. It was my lord, who lined himselfe with hope, Eating the ayre, and promise of supplie,

Flattring himfelfe in proiect of a power,

Much smaller then the smallest of his thoughts,
And fo with great imagination,

Proper to mad-men, led his powers to death,
And winking, leapt into deftruction.

Haft. But by your leaue it neuer yet did hurt,
To lay downe likelihoods and formes of hope.
Bard. We fortifie in paper, and in figures,
Vfing the names of men in steed of men,
Like on that drawes the model of an house,
Beyond his power to build it, who (halfe through)
Giues o're, and leaues his part-created cost,
A naked fubiect to the weeping clowdes,

And wafte for churlish winters tyrannie.

Haft. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of faire birth) Should be ftil-borne, and that we now poffeft

The vtmost man of expectation,

I thinke we are fo, body ftrong enough,

Euen as we are to equal with the king.

Bard. What, is the king but fiue and twenty thousand.
Haft. To vs no more, nay not fo much, lord Bardolfe,

For his diuifions, as the times do brawle,

And in three heads, one power against the French,
And one against Glendower, perforce a third

Muft take vp vs, fo is the vnfirme king
In three diuided, and his coffers found
With hollow pouertie and emptineffe.

Bib. That he should draw his feuerall strengths togither, And come against vs in full puiffance,

Need not to be dreaded.

Haft. If he fhould do so, French and Welch he leaues his back vnarmde, they baying him at the heeles, neuer feare

that.

Bar. Who is it like should leade his forces hither?

Haft. The duke of Lancaster and Weftmerland: Against the Welfb, himself and Harry Monmouth: But who is fubftituted against the French,

I haue no certaine notice.

Bifb. Shall we go draw our numbers, and fet on?
Haft. We are times fubiects, and time bids be gone.

Enter hofteffe of the tauerne, and an officer or two. Hofteffe. Mafter Phang, haue you entred the action? Phang. It is entred.

Ex.

Hoft. Wheres your yeoman? ift a lufty yeoman? wil a ftand too't?

Phang. Sirra, wheres Snare?

Hoft. O Lord I, good mafter Snare.

Snare. Here, here.

Phang Snare, we must areft fir Iohn Falstaffe.

Hoft. Yea good mafter Snare, I haue entred him and all. Snare. It may chaunce coft fome of vs our liues, for he will stabbe.

Hoft. Alas the day, take heed of him, he ftabd me in mine owne house, moft beaftly in good faith, a cares not what mif chiefe he does, if his weapon be out, he will foyne like any diuell, he will fpare neither man, woman, nor child. Phang. If I can clofe with him, I care not for his thrust. Hoft. No nor I neither, Ile be at your elbow.

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Phang