SCENE III.-York. A Room in the Arch bishop's Palace. Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH. Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, How, in our means, we shall advance ourselves L. Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth thus; Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand L. Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point; But if without him we be thought too feeble, My judgment is, we should not step too far It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. L. Bard. It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply, Flattering himself with project of a power Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt, We see the appearing buds: which, to prove fruit, Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, What do we then, but draw anew the model To build at all? Much more, in this great work, (Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down, And set another up,) should we survey The plot of situation, and the model; Question surveyors; know our own estate, How able such a work to undergo, To weigh against his opposite; or else, A naked subject to the weeping clouds, Hast. Grant that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth) Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd The utmost man of expectation; I think we are a body strong enough, Even as we are, to equal with the king. L. Bard. What! is the king but five-andtwenty thousand ? Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, lord Bardolph. For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads; one French, power against the And one against Glendower; perforce, a third In three divided; and his coffers sound Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together, And come against us in full puissance, Need not be dreaded. Hast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh Baying him at the heels: never fear that. But who is substituted 'gainst the French, have no certain notice. Arch. Let us on; And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Boling broke, Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! times? They that when Richard lived would have him die, Are now become enamour'd on his grave: Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head, worst. Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on? Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids be [Exeunt. gone. Enter Hostess; FANG, and his Boy, with her; and SNARE following. M Hostess. ASTER FANG, have you entered the action ? Fang. It is entered. Host. Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will he stand to't? Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare? Host. Ay, ay; good master Snare. Fang. Snare, we must arrest sir John Falstaff. Host. Ay, good master Snare; I have entered him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us Our lives; he will stab. Host. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly; in good faith, he cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out; he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Fang. If I can close with him I care not for his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. If I but fist him once; if he come but within my vice;— Host. I am undone with his going; I warrant he is an infinitive thing upon my score.-Good master Fang, hold him sure;-good master |