1135By prosecuting of this enterprize.

1136But where are men? where's power and furniture

1137To order such an action? we are weak,

1138Harry, you know's a mighty Potentate.

1139Cam. Tut, we are strong enough; you are belov'd,

1140And many will be glad to follow you,

1141We are the like, and some will follow us:

1142Nay, there is hope from France : here's an Ambassador

1143That promiseth both men and money too.

1144The Commons likewise (as we hear) pretend

1145A sudden tumult, we will joyn with them.

1146Cob. Some likelyhood, I must confesse, to speed:

1147But how shall I believe this in plain truth?

1148You are (my Lords) such men as live in Court,

1149And have been highly favoured of the King,

1150Especially Lord Scroop, whom oftentimes

1151He maketh choice for his bed-fellow.

1152And you, Lord Gray, are of his privy Counsel:

1153Is not this a train laid to intrap my life?

1154Cam. Then perish may my soul: what, think you so?

1155Scr. We'll swear to you.

1156Gray. Or take the Sacrament.

1157Cob. Nay you are Noble men, and I imagine,

1158As you are honourable by birth, and bloud,

1159So you will be in heart, in thought, in word.

1160I crave no other testimony but this.

1161That you would all subscribe, and set your hands

1162Unto this writing which you gave to me.

1163Cam. With all our hearts: who hath any pen and ink?

1164Scr. My pocket should have one; O, here it is.

1165Cam. Give it me, Lord Scroop. There is my name.

1166Scr. And there is my name.

1167Gray. And mine.

1168Cob. Sir, let me crave that would likewise write your

1169name with theirs, for confirmation of your Masters words

1170the King of France.

1171Char. That will I, Noble Lord.

1172Cob. So, now this action is well knit together,

1173And I am for you; where's our meeting, Lords?

1174Cam. Here if you please, the tenth of July next.

1175Cob. In Kent? agreed. Now let us in to supper,

1176I hope your honours will not away to night.

1177Cam. Yes presently, for I have far to ride,

1178About soliciting of other friends.

1179Scr. And we would not be absent from the Court,

1180Lest thereby grow suspition in the King.

1181Cob. Yet taste a cup of wine before ye go.

1183Cob. Farewell, my Noble Lords. My Noble Lords?

1184My noble villains, base Conspirators,

1185How can they look his Highnesse in the face,

1186Whom they so closely study to betray?

1187But I'le not sleep until I make it known,

1188This head shall not be burthen'd with such thoughts,

1189Nor in this heart will I conceal a deed

1190Of such impiety against my King.

1191Madam, how now?

1193La. Cob. Y'are welcome home, my Lord:

1194Why seem ye so unquiet in your looks?

1195What hath befaln you that disturbs your mind?

1196La. Powis. Bad news I am afraid touching my husband.

1197Cob. Madam, not so: there is your husband's pardon;

1198Long may ye live, each joy unto the other.

1199La. Po. So great a kindnesse, as I know not how to

1200reply, my sense is quite confounded.

1201Cob. Let that alone: and Madam stay me not,

1202For I must back unto the Court again,

1203With all the speed I can: Harpool, my horse.

1204L. Cob. So soon my Lord? what will you ride all night?

1205Cob. All night or day, it must be so sweet wife;

1206Urge me not why, or what my businesse is,

1207But get you in: Lord Powess, bear with me.

1208And Madam, think your welcome ne're the worse,

1209My house is at your use. Harpool, away.

1210Har. Shall I attend your Lordship to the Court?

1212La. Cob. I prythee Harpool look unto thy Lord,

1213I do not like this sudden posting back.

1214Po. Some earnest business is a-foot belike,

1215What ere it be, pray God be his good guide.

1216La. Po. Amen, that hath so highly us bested.

1217La. Cob. Come Madam & my Lord, we'll hope the best,

1218You shall not into Wales till he return.

1219Pow. Though great occasion be we should depart, yet,

1220Madam, will we stay to be resolv'd of this unlookt for

1224Mur. Come my hearts of flint, modestly, decently,

1225soberly, and handsomly; no man afore his Leader: fol-

1226low your Master, your Captain, your Knight that shall-

1227be, for the honour of Meal-men, Millers, and Malt-men,

1228dun is the mouse: Dick and Tom for the credit of Dun-

1229stable, ding down the Enemy to morrow. Ye shall not

1230come into the field like beggars. Where be Leonard and

1231Lawrence my two Loaders? Lord have mercy upon us,

1232what a world is this? I would give a couple of shillings

1233for a dozen of good Feathers for ye, and fourty pence for

1234as many Scarffes to set ye out withall. Frost and snow,

1235a man has no heart to fight till he be brave.

1236Dick. Master, we are no babes, our town foot-balls

1237can bear witnesse: this little parrel we have shall off, and

1238we'll fight naked before we run away.

1239Tom. Nay, I'me of Lawrence mind for that, for he

1240means to leave his life behind him, he and Leonard, your

1241two Loaders are making their Wills because they have

1242wives, now we Batchellors bid our friends scramble for

1243our goods if we dye: but Master, pray let me ride upon Cut.

1244Mur. Meal and salt, wheat and Malt, fire and tow,

1245frost and snow, why Tom thou shalt. Let me see, here

1246are you, William and George are with my Cart, and Ro-

1247bin and Hodge holding my own two Horses; proper

1248men, handsome men, tall men, true men.

1249Dick. But Master, Master, me thinks you are mad

1250to hazard your own person, and a cart-load of money too.

1251Tom. Yea, and Master there's a worse matter in't; if

1252it be as I heard say, we go fight against all the learned

1253Bishops, that shauld give us their blessing, and if they

1254curse us, we shall speed nere the better.

1255Dick. Nay birlady, some say the King takes their part,

1256and Master dare you fight against the King.

1257Mur. Fie paltry, paltry, in and out, to and fro upon

1258occasion, if the King be so unwise to come there, we'll

1259fight with him too.

1260Tom. What if ye should kill the King?

1261Mur. Then we'll make another.

1262Dick. Is that all? do ye not speak Treason?

1263Mur. If we do, who dare trip us? We come to fight for

1264our conscience, and for honour: little know you what is in

1265my bosome, look here mad knaves, a pair of gilt Spurres.