Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, But for mine own part, my lord, I could be Enter LADY PERCY. How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours. Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone? Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, Enter Servant. Lady. But hear you, my lord. My horse, What say'st, my lady? Hot. Away, with me? Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate! It must, of force. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's 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 me; and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They calldrinking 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 honor, 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 in my hand by an under-skinker; one that never spake other Enggone?lish 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 pre Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago. Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even now. cedent. Poins. Francis! Strengthen. Puppets. A wencher. Tapster. P. Hen. Thou art perfect. Enter FRANCIS. his wife. Rivo, says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call [Exit POINS. in tallow. Fran. Anon, anon, sir.-Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph. P. Hen. Come hither, Francis. Fran. My lord. P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis? Fran. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. Five years! by'r lady, a long lease for the 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 it in my heartPoins. [Within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis! Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO. Poins. Welcome Jack. Where hast thou been? Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them, and foot them too. plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. A P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! if thou didst, then behold that compound. Fal. You rogue, here's lime in the sack too: There is nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villanous coward.-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt: if manhood, good manhood, be not forgotten upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say! I would, I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any thing: A plague of all cowards, I say still. Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and 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 tomorrow, Francis; or Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,Fran. My lord! P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, 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 doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. Fran. What sir? Poins. [Within.] Francis! P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear them call? [Here they both call him; the Drawer stands Enter Vintner. Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRAN.] My lord, old Sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in? P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! Re-enter POINS. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales! P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter? Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there? Poins. Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee. Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damn'd ere I call thee coward: but I will give a thousand pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me.-Give me a cup of sack:I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day. P. Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunk'st last. Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. [He drinks. P. Hen. What's the matter? Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here have taken a thousand pound this morning. P. Hen. Where is it Jack? where is it? Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us. P. Hen. What, a hundred, man? Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hack'd like a hand-saw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man; all would not do. A plague of all cowards!-Let them speak: if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of darkharkness. P. Hen. Sirah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door: Shall we be merry? Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But ye; What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue? P. Hen. I am now of all humors, that have show'd themselves humors, since the old days of goodman. Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter FRANCIS, with wine.] What's o'clock, Francis? Fan. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman!His industry is-up stairs, and down stairs; his eloquence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, Fye upon this quiet life! I want work.-O my sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer A sweet wine. P. Hen. Speak, sir; how was it? Gads. We four set upon some dozen,— Peto. No, no, they were not bound. Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us, Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged creature. Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of them. Ful. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what 1 Stockings. Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward;-here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, P. Hen. What, four? thou saidst but two, even now. Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus. P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now. Fal. In buckram. Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. Fal. Seven by these hilts, or I am a villain else. P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. -Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? P. Hen. Content;-and the argument shall be thy running away. Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me. Enter Hostess. Host. My lord the prince, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? wha sayst thou to me? Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you: he says, he comes from your father. P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These royal man, and send him back again to my mother. nine in buckram, that I told thee of, P. Hen. So, two more already. Fal. Their points being broken,- Fal. Began to give me ground: But I followed me close, came in foot and hand; and with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid. P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! Fal. But as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand. P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy, tallow-keech. Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth? P. Hen. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? come tell us your reason; What sayest thou to this? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-backbreaker, this hugh hill of flesh; Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish,-O, for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck; P. Hen. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this." Poins. Mark, Jack. P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house:-and Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard a bull-calf.What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in night! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame? Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now? Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life. I 2 A town in Westmoreland famous for making cloth. Around lump of fat. Fal. What manner of man is he? Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight?-Shall I give him his answer? P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack. [Exit. Fal. Faith, and I'll send him packing. P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r lady, you fought fair;so did you, Peto; so did you Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true prince; no,-fye! Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falslafl's sword so hacked? Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like. Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass to make them bleed: and then to beslubber our garments with it, and to swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven years before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices. 4 P. Hen. O, villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it? Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations? P. Hen. I do. Bard. What think you they portend? P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses. Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter. Re-enter FALSTAFF. Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villainous news abroad: here was sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon' the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook,-What, a plague, call you him? Poins. O, Glendower. Fal. Owen, Owen; the same;--and his son-in-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horseback up a hill-perpendicular. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it. P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running? Ful. O'horseback, ye cuckoo! but afoot, he will naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this not budge a foot. month? P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and on Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. J. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundred. Fal. By the mass lad, thou sayest true; it is like, we shall have good trading that way.-But tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heirapparent, could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it? P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy instinct. Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life. Fal. Shall I content:-This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown, for a pitiful bald crown. Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses' vein. P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.1 P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbit-sucker, or a poulter's hare P. Hen. Well, here I am set. Fal. And here I stand:-judge, my masters. P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false:-nay, I' tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith. P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humors, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombards of sack, that stuffed cloak bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villainy? wherein villainous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? Fal. I would your grace would take me with you; whom means your grace? P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. Fal. My lord, the man I know. P. Hen. I know thou dost. Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him than Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, no- in myself, were to say more than I know. That he bility. Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith. Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance! Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen, For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. and banish all the world. is old (the more the pity) his white hairs do witness it: but that he is (saving your reverence) a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not Fal. Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-him thy Harry's company; banish plump Jack, brain. Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point;-Why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keep'st: for, Harry, now, I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also:-And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. P. Hen. What manner of man, an it like your majesty? [A knocking heard. [Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH. Re-enter BARDOLPH, running, Bard. O, my lord, my lord; the sheriff with a most monstrous watch, is at the door. Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. Re-enter Hostess, hastily. Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord!stick: What's the matter? Fal. Heigh! heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddle Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? of gold, a connterfeit: thou art essentially mad, Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece without seeming so. P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. Fal. I deny your major; if you will deny the cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringsheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a ing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. Fal. A good portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras;-the rest carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or by'r-walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, lady, inclining to three-score; and now I remember and good conscience. me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be Fal. Both which I have had: but their date is lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known out, and therefore I'll hide me. by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou [Exeunt all but the PRINCE and POINS. P. Hen. Call in the sheriff. Enter Sheriff and Carrier. The machine which separates flour from bran. In Essex, where a large ox was roasted whole. Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry Hath follow'd certain men into this house. P. Hen. What men? Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse. P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: thou found? Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord, Search his pockets. [POINS searches.] What hast A gross fat man. Čar. As fat as butter. P. Hen. The man, I 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 charged withal: And so let me entreat you leave the house. Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentlemen Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. P. Hen. It may be so: 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. Nothing but papers, my lord. P. Hen. Let's see what they be: read them. Poins. Item, A capon, 28. 2d. Item, Sauce, 4d. Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. 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 honorable. 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 advantage. 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 | Can trace me in the tedious ways of art, House. Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur: Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears Glend. I cannot blame him; at my nativity Hot. 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 Glend. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave I am not in the roll of common men. Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? 7 Lights set cross-ways upon beacons, and also upon poles, which were used in processions, &c. 8 Tumbles. And hold me pace in deep experiments. I will to dinner. Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. But will they come, when you do call for them? Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the devil.If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. Mort. Come, come, No more of this unprofitable chat. Glend. Three times hath Harry 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! According to our three-fold order ta'en? drawn together Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen. Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords, And in my conduct shall your ladies come: Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours: |