And, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes.

Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file
To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
And our supplies live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.

Mow. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus ;

Whether our present five and twenty thousand
May hold up head without Northumberland.
Hast. With him, we may.

Mow. Ay, marry, there's the point :-
But if, without him, we be thought too feeble?—
My judgment is, we should not step too far,
Till we had his assistance by the hand;
For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,
Conjecture, expectation, and surmise,
Of aids uncertain, should not be admitted.

Archb. 'Tis very true, Lord Marshal; for, indeed, It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

Mow. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,

Eating the air on promise of supply,

Flattering himself in project of a power,

Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;

And so, with great imagination,

Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And, winking, leap'd into destruction.

Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt,
To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope.
Mow. Yes, in this present quality of war,
Indeed of instant action: A cause on foot
Lives so in hope, as in an early spring

We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit,
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair,
That frosts will bite them.

C

Hast. I think, we are a body strong enough, Even as we are, to equal with the king.

Archb. What is the king but five and twenty thousand?

Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, my lord;

For his divisions, as the times do brawl,

Are in three heads: one power against the French, And one against Glendower; perforce, a third Must take up us.

Archb. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither?

Hast. Prince John of Lancaster, and Westmoreland:

Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Mon

mouth :

But who is substituted 'gainst the French,
I have no certain notice.

Archb. Let us on;

And publish the occasion of our arms.

The commonwealth is sick of their own choice,
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited:

A 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 Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be,—
And, being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,

That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up!

What trust is in these times?

They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die,

Are now become enamour'd on his grave:

Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head, When, through proud London, he came sighing on, After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,

Cry'st now, "O earth, give us that king again,
And take thou this !"-O thoughts of men accurs'd!
Past, and to come, seem best; things present, worst.

SCENE III.

A Street in London.

Enter HOSTESS, FANG, and SNARE.

Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang. It is entered.-Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.

Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.

Fang. An I but fist him once;-an a' come but within my vice ;-

Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an infinite thing upon my score:-Good Master Fang, hold him sure:-good Master Snare, let him not 'scape. He comes continually to Pye Corner, (saving your manhoods), to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner, to the Lubbar's Head, in Lumbart Street, to Master Smooth's, the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.-Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him.

Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang, and Master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.

Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and the PAGE.

Fal. How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter?

Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.

Fal. Away, varlets!-Draw, Bardolph, cut me off the villain's head; throw the quean in the channel.

Host. Throw me in the channel?-Murder, murder! O thou honey-suckle villain! wilt thou kill Heaven's officers, and the king's?

Fal. Keep them off, Bardolph.
Fang. A rescue! a rescue!

Host. Good people, bring a rescue or two.-Thou wo't, wo't thou? thou wo't, wo't thou? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!

Fal. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.

Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, and Two APPA

RITORS.

Ch. Just. What's the matter? keep the peace here, ho!

Host. Good my lord, be good to me, I beseech you.

Ch. Just. How now, Sir John? what are you brawling here?

Doth this become your place, your time, and business?

You should have been well on your way to York.Stand from him, fellow; wherefore hang'st thou on him?

Host. O my most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.

Ch. Just. For what sum?

Host. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have; he hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his.

Ch. Just. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not ashamed, to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course, to come by her own? Fal. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Host. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself, and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, on Wednesday, in Whitsun week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady, thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us, she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee, they were ill for a green wound. And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying that ere long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy book oath; deny it if thou canst.

Fal. My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says, up and down the town, that her eldest son is like you; she hath been in good case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish officers, I beseech you, I may have redress against

them.

Ch. Just. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng