The First Part of King Henry the Fourth

for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.
Poins. Stand close! I hear them coming.
[They stand aside.]
Enter the Thieves again.
Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before
day.
An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no
equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins than in
a
wild duck.

[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
them. THey all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or
two, runs awasy too, leaving the booty behind them.]

Prince. Your money!
Poins. Villains!

Prince. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse.
The thieves are scattered, and possess'd with fear
So strongly that they dare not meet each other.
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death
And lards the lean earth as he walks along.
Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd! Exeunt.

Scene III. Warkworth Castle

Enter Hotspur solus, reading a letter.

Hot. 'But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well
contented to
be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.' He could
be
contented- why is he not then? In respect of the love he
bears
our house! He shows in this he loves his own barn better than
he
loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The purpose you
undertake
is dangerous'– Why, that's certain! 'Tis dangerous to take a
cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out
of
this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The
purpose
you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named
uncertain,
the time itself unsorted, and your whole plot too light for
the
counterpoise of so great an opposition.' Say you so, say you
so?
I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and
you
lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a
good
plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good
plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent
plot,
very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why,
my
Lord of York commends the plot and the general course of the
action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain
him
with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and
myself; Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen
Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all
their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next
month,
and are they not some of them set forward already? What a
pagan
rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very
sincerity of fear and cold heart will he to the King and lay
open
all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to
buffets
for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an
action!
Hang him, let him tell the King! we are prepared. I will set
forward to-night.

Enter his Lady.

How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours.
Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed,
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tent,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,