the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily; if it be a hot day, an I brandish any thing but my bottle, I would I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever; but it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If you will needs say, I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.

Ch. Just. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your expedition!

Fal. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound, to furnish me forth?

Ch. Just. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousin Westmoreland.

[Exeunt Chief Justice and Attendant.

Fal. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle.3-A man can no more separate age and covetousness, than he can part young limbs and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Page. Sir?

Fal. What money is in my purse?
Page. Seven groats and two-pence.

-Boy!

Fal. I can get no remedy against this consumption

1 The rest of this speech, which is not in the folio, is restored from the quarto copy.

2 A quibble is here intended between crosses, contraryings, and the sort of money so called.

3 This alludes to a common but cruel diversion of boys, called fillipping the toad. They lay a board, two or three feet long, at right angles, over a transverse piece, two or three inches thick; then placing the toad at one end of the board, the other end is struck by a bat or large stick, which throws the poor toad forty or fifty feet perpendicular from the earth; and the fall generally kills it. A three-man beetle is a heavy beetle, with three handles, used in driving piles.

4 To prevent is to anticipate.

of the purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.-Go bear this letter to my lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this to the earl of Westmoreland; and this to old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. About it; you know where to find me. [Exit Page.] A pox of this gout, or, a gout of this pox! for the one, or the other, plays the rogue with my great toe. It is no matter, if I do halt; I have the wars for my color, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing; I will turn diseases to commodity.

[Exit.

SCENE III. York. A Room in the Archbishop's Palace.

Enter the Archbishop of York; the LORDS HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH.

Arch. Thus have you heard our cause, and known our means;

And, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes.-
And first, lord marshal, what say you to it?

Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms;
But gladly would be better satisfied,
How, in our means, we should advance ourselves
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the power and puissance of the king.
Hast. Our present musters grow upon the file
To five-and-twenty thousand men of choice;
And our supplies live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.

Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standeth

thus:

Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand

May hold up head without Northumberland.

Hast. With him, we may.

Bard. Ay, marry, there's the point. But if without him we be thought too feeble, My judgment is, we should not step too far Till we had his assistance by the hand; For, in a theme so bloody-faced as this, Conjecture, expectation, and surmise

Of aids uncertain, should not be admitted.

Arch. 'Tis very true, lord Bardolph; for, indeed,

It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

Bard. It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope,

Eating the air on promise of supply,

Flattering himself with project of a power
Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;'

And so, with great imagination,

Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And, winking, leaped into destruction.

Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt,

To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope.
Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war ;-
Indeed the instant action, (a cause on foot,)

2

Lives so in hope, as in an early spring

We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit,
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair,

That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model;

And when we see the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the cost of the erection;

1 That is, which turned out to be much smaller than, &c.

2 The first twenty lines of this speech were first inserted in the folio, 1623. This passage has perplexed the editors. The old copies read:

"Yes, if this present quality of war,

Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot

Lives so in hope: As in," &c.

It has been proposed to read :—

:

"Yes, if this present quality of war ;

Induced the instant action: a cause on foot

Lives so in hope, as in," &c.

The reading adopted by Steevens and Malone, from Johnson's suggestion, is that which is given above.

Which if we find outweighs ability,

What do we then, but draw anew the model
In fewer offices; or, at least, desist

To build at all? Much more, in this great work,
(Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down,
And set another up,) should we survey
The plot of situation, and the model;
Consent upon a sure foundation;
Question surveyors; know our own estate,
How able such a work to undergo,
To weigh against his opposite; or else,
We fortify in paper, and in figures,

Using the names of men instead of men;

Like one that draws the model of a house

Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
Gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost
A naked subject to the weeping clouds,

And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth)

Should be still-born, and that we now possessed
The utmost man of expectation;

I think we are a body strong enough,

Even as we are, to equal with the king.

Bard. What! is the king but five-and-twenty thousand?

Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bardolph.

For his divisions, as the times do brawl,

Are in three heads: one power against the French,2
And one against Glendower; perforce, a third
Must take up us. So is the unfirm king

In three divided; and his coffers sound

With hollow poverty and emptiness.

Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together,

1 Agree.

2 During this rebellion of Northumberland and the archbishop, a French army of twelve thousand men landed at Milford Haven, in aid of Owen Glendower. See Holinshed, p. 531.

And come against us in full puissance,

Need not be dreaded.

If he should do so,

Hast. He leaves his back unarmed, the French and Welsh Baying him at the heels: never fear that.

Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither? Hast. The duke of Lancaster,1 and Westmoreland; Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth: But who is substituted 'gainst the French,

I have no certain notice.

Arch.

Let us on; 2

And publish the occasion of our arms.

The commonwealth is sick of their own choice,
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.—

A habitation giddy and unsure

Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now trimmed in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,

And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,
Are now become enamored on his grave.

Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came sighing on
After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Cry'st now, O earth, yield us that king again,

1 This is an anachronism. Prince John of Lancaster was not created a duke till the second year of the reign of his brother, king Henry V. At this time prince Henry was actually duke of Lancaster. Shakspeare was misled by Stowe, who, speaking of the first parliament of king Henry IV., says, "Then the king rose, and made his eldest sonne prince of Wales, &c.: his second sonne was there made duke of Lancaster." Annales, 1631.-He seems to have consulted Stowe (p. 323) between the times of finishing the last play and beginning of the present.

2 This speech first appeared in the folio.

3 Dressed.