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P. John.

Go, my lord,

And let our army be dischargéd too.

[Exit WESTMORELAND.

And, good my lord, so please you, let your trains

March by us, that we may peruse the men

We should have coped withal.

Arch.

Go, good Lord Hastings,

And, ere they be dismissed, let them march by.

[Exit HASTINGS. P. John. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night

together.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
West. The leaders, having charge from you to

stand,

Will not go off until they hear you speak.

P. John. They know their duties.

Re-enter HASTINGS.

Hast. My lord, our army is dispersed already. Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their

Courses

East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke

up,

Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place

West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the

which

1 do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason :—

And you, lord árchbishop, and

and you, Lord

Mowbray,

Of capital treason I attach you both.

Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honourable?

West. Is your assembly so?

Arch. Will you thus break your faith?

P. John.

I pawned thee none.

I promised you redress of these same grievances
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
I will perform with a most Christian care.
But, for you, rebels, look to taste the due
Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.-
Strike up our drums! pursue the scattered stray;
God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.—
Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Another Part of the Forest.

Alarums: Excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and
COLEVILLE, meeting.

Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition 、 are you, and of what place, I pray?

Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is Coleville of the dale.

Fal. Well, then, Coleville is your name, a knight is your degree, and your place, the dale: Coleville shall still be your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place,-a dale deep enough; so shall you be still Coleville of the dale.

Cole. Are not you Sir John Falstaff?

Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore, rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

Cole. I think, you are Sir John Falstaff, and ir. that thought yield me.

Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active

any

fellow in Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.-Here comes our general.

Enter Prince JOHN of LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, and others.

P. John. The heat is past; follow no further

now,

Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.—

[Exit WESTMORELAND.

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while ?
When everything is ended, then you come :
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows' back.

Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered nine-score and odd posts, and here, travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Coleville of the dale, a most furious knight, and valorous enemy. But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, I came, saw, and overcame.

P. John. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

Fal. I know not :-here he is, and here I yield him, and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top of it, Coleville kissing my foot to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt twopences to me, and I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins' heads to her, believe not the word of the noble: therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.

P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount.

Fal. Let it shine then.

P. John. Thine 's too thick to shine.

Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will.

P. John. Is thy name Coleville ?

Cole.

It is, my lord.

P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Coleville.
Fal. And a famous true subject took him.

Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are

That led me hither: had they been ruled by me, You should have won them dearer than you have.

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