Enter Sheriff, and Carrier.

Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me? Sher. First pardon me, my Lord.

cry

A hue and

Hath followed certain men into this house.

P. Hen. What men?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious Lord;

A gross fat man.

Car. As fat as butter.

P. Hen. The man, 1 do assure you, is not

here;

For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withal:
And so let me entreat you leave the house.
Sher. I will, my Lord: There are two gen-

Have in this robbery lost
P. Hen. It may be so:

tlemen

three hundred marks. if he have robb'd these

men,

He shall be answerable, and so, farewell.
Sher. Good night, my noble Lord.

P. Hen. I think, it is good morrow; Is it not? Sher. Indeed, my Lord, I think it be two o'clock.

[Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, call him forth.

Poins. Falstaff fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse.

P. Hen. Hark how hard he fetches breath:

Search his pockets. [PoINS searches.] What hast thou found?

Poins. Nothing but papers, my Lord.

P. Hen. Let's see what they be read them. Poins. Item, A capon, 2s. 2d.

Item, Sauce, 4d.

Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.

Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. Item, Bread, a halfpenny.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!— What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning: we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelve-score, The money shall be paid back again with advant age. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins,

Poins. Good morrow, good my Lord.

[Exeunt.

ACT III, SCENE I

Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's House.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER.

Mort. These promises are fair, the parties

sure,

And our induction full of prosperous hope.

Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur: For by that name as oft as Lancaster

Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale; and,

with

A rising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven.

Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity, The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets; and, at my birth The frame and the foundation of the earth Shak'd like a coward.

Hot. Why, so it would have done

At the same season, if your mother's cat had But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born. Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was

born.

Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my mind, If you suppose, as fearing you it shook.

Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity.

Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth
Is with a kind of cholick pinch'd and vex'd
By the imprisoning of unruly wind

Within her womb; which, for enlargement striv

ing,

Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down Steepels, and moss-grown towers. At your birth, Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, In passion shook.

Glend. Cousin, of many men

ད

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
To tell you once again, -that, at my birth,
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes;
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
And all the courses of my life do show,
I am not in the roll of common men.
Where is he living, - clipp'd in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland,
Wales,

Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
And bring him out, that is but woman's son,
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
Or hold me pace in deep experiments.

Hot. I think, there is no man speaks better
Welsh:

I will to dinner.

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can ; or so can any man: But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command

The devil.

Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the

devil,

By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the de

vil.

If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,

And I'll be sworn, I have power do shame him hence.

O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the

Mort. Come, come,

devil.

No more of this unprofitable chat.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke

made head

Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye, And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him, Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? Glend. Come, here's the map; Shall we divide our right,

According to our threefold order ta'en?
Mort. The Archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits, very equally:

England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
By south and east, is to my part assign'd:
All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Gendower:—and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn:
Which being sealed interchangeably,
(A business that this night may execute,)
To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I,
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth,
To meet your father, and the Scottish power,
A is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

My father Glendower is not ready yet,

Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days: Within that space, [To GLEND.] you may have drawn together