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That may give furch'rance to our Expedition;
For we have now no thought in us but France,
Save thofe to God, that run before our Business.
Therefore let our Proportions for these Wars
Be foon collected, and all things thought upon,
That may with reasonable swiftness add
More Feathers to our Wings: For God before,
We'll chide this Dauphin at his Father's Door.
Therefore let every Man now task his Thought,
That this fair Action may on foot be brought. [Exeunt.
Flourish. Enter Chorus.

Now all the Youth of England are on fire,
And filken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lies:

Now thrive the Armourers, and Honour's thought
Reigns folely in the Breast of

every Man.

They fell the Pafture now, to buy the Horse,
Following the Mirror of all Chriftian Kings,
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now fits Expectation in the Air,

And hides a Sword, from Hilts unto the Point,
With Crowns imperial, Crowns and Coronets,
Promis'd to Harry, and his Followers.
The French advis'd by good intelligence
Of this moft dreadful preparation,

Shake in their fear, and with pale Policy

Seek to divert the English purposes.

O England! Model to thy inward Greatness,

Like little Body with a mighty Heart;

What might'ft thou do, that Honour would thee do,

Were all thy Children kind and natural:

But fee, thy Fault France hath in thee found out,
A neft of hollow Bofoms, which he fills

With treacherous Crowns, and three corrupted Men
One Richard Earl of Cambridge; and the fecond,
Henry Lord Scroop of Masham; and the third,
Sir Thomas Gray Knight of Northumberland,
Have for the Gilt of France, (O Guilt indeed!)
Confirm'd Confpiracy with fearful France; ·
And by their Hands this grace of Kings must die,
If Hell and Treafon hold their Promiles,

Ere

Ere he take Ship for France; and in Southampton,
Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
Th' abuse of diftance; force a Play:

The Sum is pay'd, the Traitors are agreed,
The King is fet from London, and the Scene
Is now tranfported, Gentles, to Southampton,
There is the Play-house now, there must you fit,
And thence to France fhall we convey you fafe,
And bring you back: Charming the narrow Seas,
To give you gentle Pafs; for if we may,
We'll not offend one Stomach with our Play.
But 'till the King come forth, and not 'till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our Scene.

Enter Corporal Nim, and Lieutenant Bardolph.

-Bard. Well met, Corporal Nim.

Nim. Good-morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

[Exit.

Bard. What, are Ancient Piftol and you Friends yet? Nim. For my part, I care not: I fay little; but when time fhall ferve, there fhall be fmiles, but that fhall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink, and hold out mine Iron; it is a fimple one, but what though? It will toft Cheese, and it will endure cold, as another Man's Sword will; and there's an end.

Bard. I will beftow a Breakfaft to make you Friends, and we'll be all three fworn Brothers to France: Let it be fo, good Corporal Nim.

Nim. Faith, I will live fo long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may: That is my Reft, that is the rendezvous of it.

Bard. It is certain, Corporal, that he is married to Nel Quickly, and certainly the did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.

Nim. I cannot tell, Things must be as they may; Men may fleep, and they may have their Throats about them at that time, and fome fay, Knives have Edges: It muft be as it may, tho' Patience be a tired name, yet fhe will plod, there must be Conclufions; well, I cannot tell.

Enter Piftol, and Quickly.

Bard. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his Wife; good Corporal, be patient here. How now, mine Hoft Pistol?

Pif

Pift. Bafe Tyke, call'ft thou me Hoft? now by this Hand, I fwear 1 fcorn the Term, nor shall my Nel keep Lodgers.

Quick. No by my troth, not long: For we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen Gentlewomen that live honeftly by the prick of their Needles, but it will be thought we keep a Bawdy-house ftraight. O welliday Lady, if he be not hewn now, we fhall fee wilful Adul. tery and Murther committed.

Bard. Good Lieutenant, Good Corporal, offer nothing here.

Nim. Pifh.

Pit. Pifh for thea, Iland Dogs thou prick-car'd Cur of Iland.

Quick. Good Corporal Nim, fhew thy Valour, and put up thy Sword.

Nim. Will you fhog off? I would have you Solus.

Pift. Solus, egregious Dog! O Viper vile; The folus in thy moft marvellous Face, the folus in thy Teeth, and in thy Throat, and in thy hateful Lungs, yea in thy Maw perdy; and which is worse, within thy nafty Mouth. I do retort the folus in thy Bowels; for I can take, and Piftol's cock is up, and flashing fire will follow.

Nim. I am not Barbafon, you cannot conjure me: I have an humour to knock you indifferently well; If you grow foul with me, Piftol, I will fcour you with my Rapier, as I may in fair terms. If you would walk off, I would prick your Guts a little in good terms, as I may, and that's the humour of it.

Pif. O Braggard vile, and damned furious Wight, The Grave doth gape, and doating Death is near, Therefore exhale.

Bard. Hear me, hear me what I fay: He that ftrikes the firft ftroak, I'll run him up to the Hilts, as I am a Soldier. Pift. An Oath of mickle might, and fury fhall abate. Give me thy Fift, thy Fore-foot to me give: Thy Spirits are more tall.

Nim. I will cut thy Throat one time or other in fair terms, that is the humour of it.

Pift. Coupe a gorge, that is the word. I defie thee again, O hound of Creet, think'st thou my Spouse to get? No, to the Spittle go, and from the Powdring-tub of Infamy, fetch forth the Lazar Kite of Greffid's kind, Dol TearSheet, the by name, and her Efpoufe. I have, and I will hold the Quondam Quickly for the only fhe; and Pauca, there's enough to go to.

Enter the Boy.

Boy. Mine Hoft Pistol, you must come to my Mafter, and your Hofteft: He is very fick, and would to, bed Good Bardolph, put thy Face between his Sheets, and do the Office of a Warming-pan: Faith, he's very ill.

Bard, Away, you Rogue.

Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the Crow a Pudding one of thefe Days; the King has kill'd his Heart. Good Husband come home presently. [Exit Quick Bard. Come, fhall I make you two Friends? We must to France together; why the Devil fhould we keep Knives to cut one another's Throats?

Pift. Let Flouds o'erfwell, and Fiends for Food howl on. Nim. You'll pay me the eight Shillings, I won of you at Betting?

Pift. Bafe is the Slave that pays.

Nim. That now I will have; that's the Humour of it. Pift. As Manhood fhall compound; pufh home, [Dram. Bard. By this Sword, he that makes the firft thrust, I'll kill him; by this Sword I will.

Pift. Sword is an Oath, and Oaths must have their course.

Bard. Corporal Nim, and thou wilt be Friends, be Friends; and thou wilt not, why then be Enemies with me too; pritheee put up.

Pift. A Noble fhalt thou have, and prefent Pay, and Liquor likewife will I give to thee, and Friendship fhall combine, and Brotherhood. I'll live by Nim, and Nim fhall live by me, is not this juft? For I fhall Suttler be unto the Camp and Profits will accrue. Give me thy Hand Nim. I fhall have my Noble?

Pift. In Cath, moft justly paid.

Nim. Well then, that's the Humour of't.

Enter Hoftefs.

Hoft. As ever you came of Women, come in quickly to Sir John: A poor Heart, he is fo fhak'd of a burning quotidian Tertian, that it is moft lamentable to behold. Sweet Men, come to him.

Nim. The King hath run bad Humours on the Knight, that's the even of it.

Pift. Nim, thou haft spoke the right, his Heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nim. The King is a good King, but it must be as it may; hé paffes fome Humours and Carreers.

Pift. Let us condole the Knight, for, Lambkins, we will live. [Exeunt.

Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Weftmorland.
Bed. "Fore God, his Grace is bold to truft these Traitors.
Exe. They fhall be apprehended by and by.

Weft. How fmooth and even they do bear themselves, As if Allegiance in their Bofoms fate,

Crowned with Faith and conftant Royalty.

Bed. The King hath note of all that they intend, By interception which they dream not of..

Exe. Nay, but the Man that was his Bedfellow! Whom he hath lull'd and cloy'd with gracious Favours, That he fhould, for a Foreign Purse, so fell

His Soveraign's Life to Death and Treachery.

7

[Sound Trumpets.

Enter the King, Scroop, Cambridge, and Gray. K. Henry. Now fits the Wind fair, and we will aboard. My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Maham, And you my gentle Knight, give me your Thoughts: Think you not, that the Powers we bear with us. Will cut their Paffage through the Force of France? Doing the Execution, and the Act,

For which we have in head affembled them.

Scroop. No doubt, my Liege; if each Man do his best. K Henry, I doubt not that, fince we are well perfuaded, We carry not a Heart with us from hence, That grows not in a fair Confent with ours: Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish Succefs and Conquest to attend on us.

Cam

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