Davy. Sweet Sir, fit.-Master Page, fit: good Master Page, fit. What you want in meat, we'll have in drink. You must bear with us: the heart is all. There's a difh of leather-coats for you.

Shal. Come, let us be merry: now comes the fweet of the evening. Health and long life to you, Sir John!

Fal. Fill the cup, and let it come. and let it come. I'll pledge you, were it a mile to the bottom.

Shal. Honeft Bardolph, welcome! If thou want'ft any thing, and wilt not call, befhrew thy heart.-Welcome, my little tiny thief; (to the PAGE) and welcome indeed too.-I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the jolly fellows about London.

Davy. I hope to fee London ere I die.

Bar. An I might see you there, Davy,—

Shal. You'll crack a quart together! Ha, will you not, Master Bardolph ?

Bar. Yes, Sir, in a pottle pot.

Shal. I thank thee. The knave will stick by thee, I can affure thee that: he will not out, he is true bred.

Bar. And I'll ftick by him, Sir.

Shal. Why, there fpoke a king. Lack nothing:

be

be merry. (knocking) Look who's at the door there. (Exit DAVY). Ho! who knocks?

Fal. (to SIL. who drinks a bumper.) Why, now you have done me right.

Enter DAVY.

Davy. An't please your Worship, there's one Pistol come from the Court with news.

Fal. From the Court! Let him come in. (Enter PISTOL). How now, Pistol?

Pist. Sir John! fave you, Sir.

Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

Pist. Not the ill wind, that blows no man good. Sweet Knight, thou art one of the greatest men in the realm.

Sil. Indeed I think he be, except Goodman Puff of Barfton.

Pist. Puff! in thy teeth, moft recreant, cow

ard, bafe!

Sir John, I am thy Piftol, and thy friend;

And helter skelter have I rode to thee,

And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,

And golden times, and happy news of price.

Fal. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.

Pist. A fig for all this world, and worldlings

bafe!

I fpeak of Africa, and golden joys.

Shal. Give me pardon, Sir. If you come with news from the Court, I take it there are but two ways, either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, Sir, under the King, in some authority.

Pist. Under what King?

Shal. Under King Harry.

Pist. Harry the Fourth or Fifth ?

Shal. Harry the Fourth.

Pist. A fig then for thy office!

Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King.
Harry the Fifth's the man. I fpeak the truth.
When Piftol lies, do this, and fig me, like

The bragging Spaniard.

Fal. What! Is the old King dead?

Pist. As nail in door: the things I fpeak are true.

Fal. (rising) Away, Bardolph, faddle my horfe! -Mafter Robert Shallow, chufe what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine.-Piftol, I will double charge thee with dignities.

Bar. O joyful day! I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

Pist.

Pist. What do I bring good news?

Fal. Mafter Silence, you fhall stay and keep the house.-Mafter Shallow, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am Fortune's steward. Get on thy boots, we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol!— Away, Bardolph Come, Pistol, utter more to me, and withal, devife fomething to do thyfelf good.-Boot, boot, Master Shallow. I know the young King is fick for me. Let us take any man's horses. The laws of England are at my commandment. Happy are they, who have been my friends;—and woe to my Lord Chief Justice!

(Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Gourt.

(Trumpets.)—Enter on one side KING HENRY V..

attended; on the other LANCASTER, GLOSTER,

CHIEF JUSTICE, Sc.

Lanc. Long live the King!

Glo. Heav'n fave your Majesty!

King. This new and gorgeous garment, Majesty,

Sits not so easy on me as you think.

Brothers, you mix your

fadness with fome fear.

This is the English, not the Turkish Court;

N

Not

Not Amurath an Amurath fucceeds,

But. Harry Harry. Yet be fad, good brothers:
Sorrow fo royally in you appears,

That I will deeply put the fashion on,
And wear it in my heart. Yet be affur'd
I'll be your father, and your brother too.
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares :
You weep our Father's death, and fo will I.
But Harry lives, who fhall convert these tears
To balm of comfort and of happiness.

Lanc. We hope no other from your Majesty.

King. You all look strangely on me ; and you (To the CHIEF JUSTICE.

most.

You are, I think, affur'd I love you not.

Ch. Just. I am affur'd, if I be measur'd rightly, Your Majesty has no just cause to hate me.

King. No! can a Prince of my high hopes forget

The great indignities you laid on me?

What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prifon Th' immediate heir of England? Was this nothing? May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Just. I was invefted with your father's perfon.

The image of his pow'r appear'd in me.

And, in th' adminiftration of his law,

While I was bufy for the Commonwealth,

It