Hoft. All victuallers do fo: what is a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? P. Henry. You, gentlewoman. -Fal. His grace fays that which his flesh rebels against. Hoft. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the door there, Francis. SCENE XII. Enter Peto. P. Henry. Peto, how now? what news? P. Henry. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to So idly to profane the precious time; When tempeft of commotion, like the South Give me my fword, and cloak: Falstaff, good night. [Exeunt Prince and Poins. Fal. Now comes in the fweeteft morfel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpickt. More knocking at the door? how now? what's the matter? Bard. You muft away to court, Sir, presently: a dozen captains stay at door for you. Fal. Pay the musicians, Sirrah: farewel hoftefs, farewel Dol. You fee, my good wenches, how men of merit are fought after; the undeferver may fleep, when the man of action is call'd on. Farewel, good wenches; if I be not fent away poft, I will fee you again, ere I go. Dol Dol. I cannot fpeak; if my heart be not ready to well, fweet Jack, have a care of thy felf. burft [Exit. Hoft. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty nine years, come pefcod-time; but an honefter and truer-hearted man- well, fare thee well. Bard. Mrs. Tear-fheet. Hoft. What's the matter? Bard. Bid Miftrefs Tear-fheet come to my master. ACT III. SCENE I LONDON. Enter King Henry in his night-gown, with a Page. K. HENRY. O, call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick; But ere they come, bid them o'er-read thefe letters, And well confider of them: make good speed. How many thousands of my poorest subjects Are at this hour aileep! O gentle Sleep, [Exit Page. Nature's foft nurfe, how have I frighted thee, Why rather, Sleep, ly'st thou in fmoaky cribs, And hufht with buzzing night-flies to thy flumber ; ‹ Than in the perfum'd chambers of the • Under the canopies of costly state, great, And lull'd with founds of sweetest melody? O thou dull God, why ly'ft thou with the vile • Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Enter Warwick and Surrey. War. Many good-morrows to your Majefty. War. "Tis one a clock, and past. K. Henry. Why then good-morrow to you all, my lords: Have you read o'er the letters that I fent you? War. We have, my Liege. K. Henry. Then you perceive the body of our king dom, How foul it is; what rank diseases grow, And with what danger, near the heart of it. K. Henry. Oh heav'n, that one might read the book of fate, And fee the revolution of the times 0 3 Make Make mountains level, and the continent Into the fea; and other times, to fee Too wide for Neptune's hips: how chances mock With divers liquors. a O, if this were feen, Wou'd fhut the book, and fit him down and die. 'Tis not ten years fince Richard and Northumberland Did feaft together; and in two years after Were they at wars. It is but eight years fince (You, coufin Nevil, as I may remember) [To Warwick. ་ < My cousin Bolingbroke afcends my throne: That I and greatnefs were compell'd to kiss) The time fhall come, (thus did he follow it,) War. There is a history in all men's lives, Such a Thefe four verfes are fupply'd from the edition of 1600. Such things become the hatch and brood of time; King Richard might create a perfect guess, K. Henry. Are these things then neceffities? And that fame word even now cries out on us : War. It cannot be : Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, To comfort you the more, I have receiv'd K. Henry. I will take your counfel: And were thefe inward wars once out of hand, SCENE III. The COUNTRY. [Exeunt Enter Shallow and Silence, Juftices; with Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, and Bull-calf. OME Shal. C your hand, Sir; an early ftirrer, by the f come on, come on; give me rood. And how doth my good coufin Silence? Sil. Good morrow, good coufin shallow. 0 4 † the rood, i.. the cross.- t Shal, |