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Wor. Nay, if you have not, to 't again; We'll stay your leisure.

Hot.

I have done, i' faith.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas' son2 your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which-for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written—be assured,
Will easily be granted.-You, my lord-

[TO NORTHUMBERLAND.

Your son in Scotland being thus employed-
Shall secretly into the bosom creep

Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.

Hot. Of York, is't not?

Wor. True: who bears hard

His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.

I speak not this in estimation,1

As what I think might be, but what I know

Is ruminated, plotted, and set down,

And only stays but to behold the face

Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well.
North. Before the game's afoot, thou still lett'st slip.5

1 Deliver them up.] Set them free.

2 The Douglas' son.] Mordake, Earl of Fife, not really 'the Douglas' son.' See p. 7, note 3.

3 His brother's death, &c.] This is a mistake. The Archbishop of York was Richard Scroop, son of Lord Scroop of Bolton. The Scroop who was beheaded at Bristol was Lord William Scroop of Masham, Earl of Wiltshire.

• In estimation.] According to conjecture.

5 Thou still lett st slip.] An allusion to setting a leash of greyhounds free from the slips for chase. Still means always.

Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be1 a noble plot :— And then the power of Scotland, and of York,

To join with Mortimer, ha?

Wor.
And so they shall.
Hot. In faith it is exceedingly well aimed.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head:
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king will always think him2 in our debt,
And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay us home.
And see already how he doth begin

To make us strangers to his looks of love.

Hot. He does, he does; we'll be revenged on him.
Wor. Cousin, farewell.-No further go

in this,
Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe (which will be suddenly)
I'll steal to Glendower, and Lord Mortimer;
Where you and Douglas and our powers at once
(As I will fashion it) shall happily meet,

To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

North. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.
Hot. Uncle, adieu :—O, let the hours be short,

Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport!

[Exeunt.

It cannot choose but be.] It cannot help being; it cannot be otherwise than.

2 Him.] Himself.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Rochester.

An Inn Yard.

Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.

First Car. Heigh ho! An't be not four by the day, I'll be hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!

Ost. [Within.] Anon, anon.

First Car. I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle,2 put a few flocks3 in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers1 out of all cess.5

Enter another Carrier.

Second Car. Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots:7 this house is turned upside down, since Robin ostler died.

1 Charles' wain.] That is, the churl's or rustic's waggon. The constellation of the Bear was vulgarly so called.

2 Cut's saddle.] Cut was a name for a curtal or docked horse. In Twelfth Night, ii. 3, Sir Toby says, 'Call me Cut;' as Falstaff (p. 52) 'Call me horse.'

says,

3 Flocks.] Locks of wool or hair.

• Wrung in the withers.]

Galled in the shoulders.

So in

Hamlet, iii. 2, 'Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.'

Out of all cess.] To an inordinate excess.

• The next way.] The nearest way. So in Othello, i. 3:

'To mourn a mischief that is past and gone

Is the next way to draw new mischief on.'

Sir Philip Sidney, in his Apology for Poetry, says, 'The saddler's next (most immediate) end is to make a good saddle.'

The bots.] Worms in the intestines of horses.

First Car. Poor fellow! never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him.

Second Car. I think, this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a tench.2

First Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.-What, ostler! come away, and be hanged! come away.

Second Car. I have a gammon of bacon3 and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing Cross.5

First Car. The turkeys in my pannier are quite starved. -What, ostler !—A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An 't were not as

1 Since the price of oats rose.] Knight says: 'In 1596 the price of oats was exceedingly high, and Elizabeth issued a Proclamation against Ingrossers. This play was undoubtedly written about 1596; and Shakspeare had most probably the scarcity in his mind when he made the dear oats kill poor 'Robin ostler.'

2 Stung like a tench.] The comparison here may be nonsensical, as in the same carrier's previous expression dank as a dog.' But Knight says, "The particular charge against fleas of troubling fish is gravely set forth in Philemon Holland's Translation of Pliny.' Perhaps, after all, there is intended an absurd transposition of the terms dank and stung, from the more intelligible phrases dank as a tench and stung like a dog.

3 A gammon of bacon.] A smoked ham.

Razes.] Razes or races are roots.

5 Charing Cross.] Charing was anciently a detached village. The cross erected there was to commemorate the last place where the body of Eleanor, Edward I.'s queen, rested on the way to Westminster.

• An 't were not.] If it would not be. An, the old Saxon word for if, is still used in that sense in some parts of the north. It was sometimes corruptly written and when followed by if redundant.

good a deed as drink' to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain.-Come, and be hanged:-hast no faith in thee?

Enter GADSHILL.

What's o'clock ?

Gads. Good-morrow, carriers.

First Car. I think it be two o'clock.

Gads. I prithee, lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding

in the stable.

First Car. Nay, soft, I pray ye; I know a trick worth two of that i' faith.

Gads. I prithee, lend me thine.

Second Car. Ay, when, canst tell ?—Lend me thy lantern quoth a ?2-marry, I'll see thee hanged first.

Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London ?

Second Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee.-Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen; they will along with company, for they have great charge.

Gads. What, ho! chamberlain !

3

[Exeunt Carriers.

Cham. [Within.] At hand, quoth pick-purse.4

Gads. That's even as fair as5—at hand, quoth the chamberlain for thou variest no more from picking of purses,

1 As good a deed as drink.] Drink for to drink. The same phraseology occurs in the next scene. So in Twelfth Night, ii. 3, ''T were as good a deed as to drink when a man's a-hungry.'

2 Quoth a.] The readers of our old plays are familiar with the use of a for he.

3 Chamberlain.] A servant who had charge of the bed-rooms of an inn.

• At hand quoth pick-purse.] This was a proverbial expression. As fair as.] As proper as to say.

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