The First Part of King Henry the Fourth

stol'n from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose
innkeeper
of Daventry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on
every hedge.

Enter the Prince and the Lord of Westmoreland.

Prince. How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? What a devil dost thou in
Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy.
I
thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
West. Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there,
and
you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can
tell
you, looks for us all. We must away all, to-night.
Fal. Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal
cream.
Prince. I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath
already
made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are these
that
come after?
Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.
Prince. I did never see such pitiful rascals.
Fal. Tut, tut! good enough to toss; food for powder, food for
powder. They'll fill a pit as well as better. Tush, man,
mortal
men, mortal men.
West. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and
bare-
too beggarly.
Fal. Faith, for their poverty, I know, not where they had that;
and
for their bareness, I am surd they never learn'd that of me.
Prince. No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the
ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy 's already in the
field.

Exit.

Fal. What, is the King encamp'd?
West. He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.

[Exit.]

Fal. Well,
To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest. Exit.

Scene III. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury

Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, Vernon.

Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.
Wor. It may not be.
Doug. You give him then advantage.
Ver. Not a whit.
Hot. Why say you so? Looks he no for supply?
Ver. So do we.
Hot. His is certain, ours 's doubtful.
Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not to-night.
Ver. Do not, my lord.
Doug. You do not counsel well.
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life-
And I dare well maintain it with my life-
If well-respected honour bid me on
I hold as little counsel with weak fear
As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives.
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle
Which of us fears.
Doug. Yea, or to-night.
Ver. Content.
Hot. To-night, say I.
Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition. Certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up.
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy,
In general journey-bated and brought low.
The better part of ours are full of rest.
Wor. The number of the King exceedeth ours.
For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.

The trumpet sounds a parley.

Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King,
If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt, and would to God
You were of our determination!
Some of us love you well; and even those some