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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 hest. 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.

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 thou, my lady?

7 Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,] The folio, 1623, following the quartos of 1608 and 1613, omits "of." Lower down it reads beds for "beads," for the same reason.

8 On some great sudden HEST.] "Hest," for behest, is a very common word; but none of the commentators have observed that the earliest quarto prints "hest," and not haste, as they have given it. "On some great sudden hest," is "On some great sudden command.”

9 O, esperance!] The motto of the Percy family. The folio omits "O."

Lady. What is it carries you away ?
Hot. Why 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 his title; and hath sent for you,
To line his enterprize: but if you go -
Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto 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, 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' horseback, 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,

1 An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.] This speech and some others are mistakenly printed as prose in the old copies, which error the editor of the folio, 1623, not perceiving, thought himself warranted in varying from the text of the five quarto impressions. In a preceding line he inserted shall, and this line he gives thus prosaically," if thou wilt not tell me true."

This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no farther 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 farther. But hark you, 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 force2.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

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 four-score 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, a lad of mettle, a good boy, (by the Lord, so they call me3,) and when I am king of

2 It must, of FORCE.] i. e. of necessity.

3

(by the Lord, so they call me,) ]

See Vol. iii. p. 508, note 1.

These words, which, of course, came from Shakespeare's pen, are omitted in the folio, 1623: every quarto has thein. Above, the folio has confidence for "salvation."

England, I shall command all the good lads 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, clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker'; one that never spake other English in his life, than-"Eight 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 tale to me may be nothing but-anon. Step aside, and I'll show thee a precedent.

Poins. Francis!

P. Hen. Thou art perfect.

Poins. Francis!

Enter FRANCIS.

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[Exit POINS.

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.-Look down into the Pome

granate, Ralph.

4

P. Hen. Come hither, Francis.

Fran. My lord.

P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-
Poins. [Within.] Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Hen. Five years! by'r lady, a long lease for the

--

- under-skinker ;] An under-drawer. A skinker is one that serves drink at table. Schenken, Germ. is to fill a glass or cup; and schenk is a cup-bearer, one that waits at table to fill the glasses. Hence our common word "skinker."

clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indenture, and to show it a fair pair of heels, and run from it?

Fran. O lord, sir! I'll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heart

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis?

Fran. Let me see,-about Michaelmas next I shall be

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, my lord'. P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't not?

Fran. O lord, sir! I would it had been two.

P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

Fran. Anon, anon.

P. Hen. Anon, Francis?

No, Francis; but to-mor

row, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,

Fran. My lord?

P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystalbutton, knot-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddisgarter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,—

Fran. O lord, sir, who do you mean?

P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink': for, look you, Francis, your white canvas dou

5 Pray You, stay a little, my lord.] "You" is not in the 4to, 1598, but in all the subsequent editions: three lines lower the folio adds "sir" after "0 lord!" perhaps to qualify the expression.

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PUKE-stocking, CADDIS-garter,] "Puke" appears to have been some dark colour, possibly what we now call puce: also the name of a species of cloth, perhaps, usually of that colour. We have had "caddisses" mentioned in "The Winter's Tale." See Vol. iii. p. 500, note 10.

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- your brown BASTARD is your only drink :]

"Bastard" was a species of wine which Barrett, in his Alvearie, 1580, says is synonymous with "muscadel,

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