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Capiculate against us, and are up.
But wherefore do I tell this news to thee?
Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
Which art my near't and deareft enemy?
Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
Base inclination, and the fart of spleen, 81707
To fight against me under Peroy's Pay;" 02 .* 33 *
To dog his heels, and curt'le at his frowns,.. bin,
To show how much thou acc degenerate. Jy síc ja:

P. Henry. Do not think fo, you shall not find it to :
And heav'n forgive them, that for much have (way'd
Your Majesty's good thoughes away from memory?
I will redeem all this on Percy's head. bolo 1979
And in the closing of some otorious day, ill..
Be bold to tell you, that I am your fon m id duis
When I will wear a garment ali of blood, we
And stain my favours in a bloody mask, bolti
Which, washt away, shall fcowre my fame with it.
And that shall be the day when e'er ic lights,
That this fame child of honour and renown, yo!!
This gallaat Hot-fpur, this all-praised Knightga:
And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet?
For every honour litting on his helm, 916 zbrisd 108
Would they were multitudes, and on my heada 67
My fhames redoubled! for the time will come,
That I fhall make this northern Youth exchango a
His glorions deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
T'engrofs ap glorious deeds on my behalf:
And I will call him to fo frict account,
That he shall render every glory up,

of 7 Or Į will near the reck’ning from his heart: This, in the name of heaving. I promiferheré şıbriwb The which, if I perform, and do furvive, lool 2'y..! I do beseech your Majefty, may falve 19 W ..!? The long-grown wounds of my intemperaturd. If not, the

end of life cancels all bonds; is And I will die a hundred thousand deaths, Ere break the smalteft parcel of this wow.?

K. Henry.

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: K. Henry. A hundred thousand Rebels die in this! Thou shalt have Charge, and soveraign Truft herein.

2 in oor's te

Sven Enter Blunt.is 0

icot 13001dd9 91
How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.

Blunt. So is the business that I come to speak af.
Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,
That Dowglas and the English rebels met!

Th'elevgnth of this month, at Shrewsbury: ...
A 'mighty, and a fearful bead they are, vil
If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer'd foul play in a State:

K. Henry. The Earl of Wefimorlandset forth to day,
With him my son, lord John of Lancaster;
For this advertisement is five days old. Gid.
On Wednesday next, Harry, thou shalt set forward:
On Toursday, We our felves will march: our meeting
Is at Bridgnorth siand, Harry, you shall marchi .'}
Through Gloferfsine : by which, come twelve days

hence is bilis-ben.fi
Our general forces at Bridgnarıb fhall meet.
Our hands are full of business a let's away
Advantage feeds them fat, while we delay.” [Exeunt.

9000 l want to E DI DI SCENE changes to the Boara-bead Tavern

biolin East-cheap
: 11snsd 10 a
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. 111

yioig yngoloutlet
Ardolph, am not fallin away vilely, fince

action? Do I not bate? do I not dwindle why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gowna Itam wither'ds like an old apple

John. Well, i'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in fome bikinga I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no ftrength to repent. · An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse; the inside of a

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church ! company, villainous company hath been the spoil of me.

Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long

Fal. Why, there is its come, ling me a bawdy song, to make me 'merry: I was as virtuously

ly given, as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough, swore little; diced not above feven times a week; went to a bawdyhouse not above once in a quarter of an hour, paid mony, thar. Tborrow'd, three or four times; Jivd well, and in good compafs; and now I live out of all order, out of all compafs. .

Bard. Why, you are fo fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, our of all reasonable cor pass, Sir Fobn. w111ca

Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art our 'Admiral, thou bearest the lanthorn in the poop, but ?tis in the nose of thee; thou art the knight of the burning lamp"09

A. 7. Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm,

Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it, as many a of a death's head, oc a memento mori. I never fee thy face, but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple, for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. ***** If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy

t altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rann'st up Gadsbill in the night' to catch my horse, if I did not think, thou had'st been an ignis fatuus, or a ball of wild-fire, there's no purchafe in'mony: 1 0, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlafting bonfire light, thou halt" faved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt ,

avern and tavern but the fack, that thou hast drunk me, would have bought me lights as good cheap, at the dearest chandler's in Exrope.

I have maintain'd that Salamander of yours with fire, any time this two and thirty years, heav'n reward me for it!: .8

Bard.

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Bard: 'Sblood, I would, my face were in your belly.
Fal. God-a-mercy! fo should I be sure to be heart-

burn'd.

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Jówod & GrEnter Hostessa
How now, hen, have you enquir'd

TRONSOLT
yet who pick'd my pocket?

Hot Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think, I keep thieves in my house? I have searchd, 'I have enquir’a, lo has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, fervant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never house before.

ney Fal.

Bardolph was

shav d, and loft many à hair; and

I'll be sworn, my pocket was pick'd si go to, you are a woman, go.

Hoff. Who I? I defie thee I was never call'd fo in mine own house before well enough act

. Fal. Go to, I know you

you , Hoft. No, Sir John: you do not know mo, Sir John;

you, Sir John; owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. bought" you a dozen of thirts to your back, vit Fal . Dowlas, filthy do wlas : I have

have given the

them away tobakers" wives, and they have made boulters of Hof. Now as I amazinux

as I am a true woman, Holland of eight fillings an ell: for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you,

Voor you owe mony here belides, Sir Tobn, four and twenty poundsen psi Fal. He had his part of it, let him pay, fi'i

of aging Hoft. He? alas ! he is poor, he hath nothing. Fall How! 'poor look upon his face. what call you rich? let Him

coin his nole, let him coin his cheeks: P'll not pay a' denier. What, will you make a yonker of me mall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I fhall have my pocket pick'd I have lost a seal-ring of my grand-Father's worth forty mark.

Hojt Jesu!" I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that the ring was copper.

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Fal: How? the Prince is a yack, a fncak-cup; and if he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so.

olivmodiora Enter Prince Henry marching, and Peto, playing, on his Truncheon like a Fife : Falttaff meets them.

2750 A 21 Fal. How 'now, lad?' is the wind in that ddor? must we all march?

wedged Oj 9198W 701 Bard. Yea, two and cwo, Newgate-fashion.T .foH : Hoft. My lord, I pray you, hear me. Wulis (13.30

? ?Wund P. Henry. What fayot thou, Miftels Quickly how does thy husband ? I love him well, he is an honeft

Vm boy drob gri 02 HOH Hoft. Good, my lord, hear me suis by no voy pino? Fal. Pr'ythee, let her alone, and lift to me:(783.9 P. Henry. What say'st thou, Yack ? kuons Ait

Fal. The other night I fell'affeep here behind the arras, and had my pocket pickt:"this house is turn'd bawdy-house, they pick pockets. ucy 19ybud biwi P. Henry. What didst thou lose, back pl bia.

Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pounds a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.

P. Henry. A trifle, some eight-penny mattet. W prit:

Hoft. So I told him, my lord, and I said, I heard your Grace say so; and, my ford, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is, and faid the would cudgel you.

JOL Vin bak

Tráin: P. Henry. Wher! he did not?

Hoft. There's neither' faith, truth.IT in me elle,

11010 BKTV 19. oblli Fal. There's no more, faith' in thee than in aftew'd prune, no more truth in thee than in a drawn Fox, and for woman-hood, Maid-Marian may be the depuu ty's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go. 19.10

Hoft. Say, what thing? what thing? - Fal. What thing? why, a thing to thank God'on

Hoft. I am nothing to thank God on, I would thou should'st know it; I am an honest man's wife; and.

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