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Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes :-
Mowb. I well allow the occasion of our arms;
Hast. Qur present musters grow upon the file
Bard. The question then, lord Hastings, standelh
Ăy, 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-fac'd 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 lind himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply, Flattering himself with project of a power Mucli smaller than the smallest of his thoughts : And so, with great imagination, Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, And, winking, leap'd into destruction.
Hast. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt,
Bard. Yes, in this present quality of war;-
That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
Hast. Grant, that our hopes (yet likely of fair birth),
sand? Hast. To us, no more; nay, not so much, lord Bar
dolph. For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads: one power against the French, And ove 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, And come against us in full puissance, Need not be dreaded.
If he should do so,
Bard. Who, is it like, should lead his forces hither?
Hust. The duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland:
Let us on:
Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?
SCENE I. LONDON. A Street.
Host. Where is your yeoman? Is it a lusty yeoman? will a'stand to't?
Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare ?
Host. Yea, good master Snare; I have entered him and all.
Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.
Host. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly: in good faith, a'cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.
Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow.
Fang. An I but fist him once; an a'come but within my vice;
Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an infinitive thing upon my score :-Good master Fang, hold him sure;—good master Snare, let him not 'scape. He comes continually to Pie-corner (saving your manhoods), to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the Lubbar's Headin Lumbert-street, to master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my, on is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long loan for a poor lone woman to bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.-Enter Sir John FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH. Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, master Fang, and master Snare; do
do me Fal. How now? whose mare's dead? what's the matter?
Fang. Sir John, I arrest you at the soit of mistress Quickly.
Fal. Away, varlets !-Draw, Bardolph; cut me off the villain's bead; throw the quean in the channel.
Host. Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue !-Murder, murder! O thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers, and the king's? O thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed; à manqueller, and a woman-queller.
Fal. Keep them oft, Bardolph.
do me, me,