Scæna Secunda.
Enter Falstaffe and Bardolph.
Falst.
Bardolph, get thee before to Couentry, fill me a Bottle of Sack, our Souldiers shall march through: wee'le to Sutton-cop-hill to Night.
Bard.
Will you giue me Money, Captaine?
Falst.
Lay out, lay out.
Bard.
This Bottle makes an Angell.
Falst.
And if it doe, take it for thy labour: and if it make twentie, take them all, Ile answere the Coynage. Bid my Lieutenant Peto meete me at the Townes end.
Bard.
I will Captaine: farewell.Exit.
Falst.
If I be not asham'd of my Souldiers, I am a sowc't-Gurnet: I haue mis-vs'd the Kings Presse damnably. I haue got, in exchange of a hundred and fiftie Souldiers, three hundred and odde Pounds. I presse me none but good House-holders, Yeomens Sonnes: enquire me out contracted Batchelers, such as had beene ask'd twice on the Banes: such a Commoditie of warme slaues, as had as lieue heare the Deuill, as a Drumme; such as feare the report of a Caliuer, worse then a struck-Foole, or a hurt wilde-Ducke. I prest me none but such Tostes and Butter, with Hearts in their Bellyes no bigger then Pinnes heads, and they haue bought out their seruices: And now, my whole Charge consists of Ancients, Corporals, Lieutenants, Gentlemen of Companies, Slaues as ragged a Lazarus in the painted Cloth, where the Gluttons Dogges licked his Sores; and such, as indeed were neuer Souldiers, but dis-carded vniust Seruingmen, younger Sonnes to younger Brothers, reuolted Tapsters and Ostlers, Trade-falne, the Cankers of a calme World, and long Peace, tenne times more dis-honorable ragged, then an old-fac'd Ancient; and such haue I to fill vp the roomes of them that haue bought out their seruices: that you would thinke, that I had a hundred and fiftie totter'd Prodigalls, lately come from Swine-keeping, from eating Draffe and Huskes. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had vnloaded all the Gibbets, and prest the dead bodyes. No eye hath seene such skar-Crowes: Ile not march through Couentry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the Villaines march wide betwixt the Legges, as if they had Gyues on; for indeede, I had the most of them out of Prison. There's not a Shirt and a halfe in all my Company: and the halfe Shirt is two Napkins tackt together, and throwne ouer the shoulders like a Heralds Coat, without sleeues: and the Shirt, to say the truth, stolne from my Host of S[aint]. Albones, or the Red-Nose Inne-keeper of Dauintry. But that's all one, they'le finde Linnen enough on euery Hedge.
Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmerland.
Prince.
How now blowne Iack? how now Quilt?
Falst.
What Hal? How now mad Wag, what a Deuill do'st thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmerland, I cry you mercy, I thought your Honour had already beene at Shrewsbury.
West.
'Faith, Sir Iohn, 'tis more then time that I were there, and you too: but my Powers are there alreadie. The King, I can tell you, lookes for vs all: we must away all to Night.
Falst.
Tut, neuer feare me, I am as vigilant as a Cat, to steale Creame.
Prince.
I thinke to steale Creame indeed, for thy theft hath alreadie made thee Butter: but tell me, Iack, whose fellowes are these that come after?
Falst.
Mine, Hal, mine.
Prince.
I did neuer see such pittifull Rascals.
Falst.
Tut, tut, good enough to tosse: foode for Powder, foode for Powder: they'le fill a Pit, as well as better: tush man, mortall men, mortall men.
Westm.
I, but Sir Iohn, me thinkes they are exceeding poore and bare, too beggarly.
Falst.
Faith, for their pouertie, I know not where they had that; and for their barenesse, I am sure they neuer learn'd that of me.
Prince.
No, Ile be sworne, vnlesse you call three fingers on the Ribbes bare. But sirra, make haste, Percy is already in the field.
Falst.
What, is the King encamp'd?
Westm.
Hee is, Sir Iohn, I feare wee shall stay too long.
Falst.
Well, to the latter end of a Fray, and the beginning of a Feast, fits a dull fighter, and a keene Guest.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Dowglas, and Vernon.
Hotsp.
Wee'le fight with him to Night.
Worc.
It may not be.
Dowg.
You giue him then aduantage.
Vern.
Not a whit.
Hotsp.
Why say you so? lookes he not for supply?
Vern.
So doe wee.
Hotsp.
His is certaine, ours is doubtfull.
Worc.
Good Cousin be aduis'd, stirre not to night.
Vern.
Doe not, my Lord.
Dowg.
You doe not counsaile well:
You speake it out of feare, and cold heart.
Vern.
Doe me no slander, Dowglas: by my Life,
And I dare well maintaine it with my Life,
If well-respected Honor bid me on,
I hold as little counsaile with weake feare,
As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day liues.
Let it be seene to morrow in the Battell,
Which of vs feares.
Dowg.
Yea, or to night.
Vern.
Content.
Hotsp.
To night, say I.
Vern.
Come, come, it may not be.
I wonder much, being me of such great leading as you are
That you fore-see not what impediments
Drag backe our expedition: certaine Horse
Of my Cousin Vernons are not yet come vp,
Your Vnckle Worcesters Horse came but to day,
And now their pride and mettall is asleepe,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a Horse is halfe the halfe of himselfe.
Hotsp.
So are the Horses of the Enemie
In generall iourney bated, and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of rest.
