Arch.
Thus have you heard our Cause, and know our means,
And my most noble Friends, I pray you all
Speak plainly your Opinions of our hopes:
And first Lord Marshal what say you to it?

Mow.
I well allow th' occasion of our Arms,
But gladly would be better satisfied
How (with our Means) we should advance ourselves
To look with Forehead bold and big enough
Upon the Strength and Power of the King.

Hast.
Our present Musters stand upon the Roll
Full Five and Twenty Thousand chosen Men,
And our Supply live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose Bosome burns
With an Incensed Fire of Injuries.

L. Bar.
The Question then Lord Hastings standeth thus,
Whither our present Five and Twenty Thousand
May hold up head without Northumberland?

Hast.
With him we may.

L. Bar.
I 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 have 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 Bardolfe, for indeed
It was young Hotspur's case at Shreswbury.

L. Bar.
It was my Lord, who lin'd himself with hope,
Eating the Air on promise of Supply,
Flatt'ring himself with prospect of a Power
Much smaller than the smallest of his Thoughts,
And so with great Imagination
(Proper to Mad-men) led his Men to Death,
And winking leap'd into Destruction.

Hast.
But by your leave it never yet did hurt
To lay down Likelihoods and Forms of hope.

L. Bar.
Yes, if this present quality of War
Lives in the hope, as in an early Spring
We see th' appearing Buds which promise Fruit,
Hope gives not so much warrant as Dispair
That Frosts will nip 'em.

Hast.
Grant that our hopes (yet promising fair birth)
Should be Stillborn: and that we now possess'd
The utmost of our Expectations;
I think we are a Body strong enough
(Even as we are) and equal with the King.

L. Bar.
What is the King but Five and Twenty Thousand?

Hast.
We hear no more; nay not so much, Lord Bardolfe,
We have Intelligence that all his Forces
Are in three heads; One part against the French,

And one against Glendower; The third of course
March against us: So is the unfirm King
In three divided, and his Coffers sound
With hollow Poverty and Emptyness.

Arch.
That he should draw his several Strengths together
And March against us in full Puissance
Need not be dreaded.

Hast.
If he should do so
He leaves his Back unarm'd, The French and Welsh
Baying him at the Heels: Never fear that.

L. Bar.
Who is it that commands his Forces hither?

Hast.
The Duke of Lancaster and Westmorland.
Against the Welsh, himself, and Harry Monmouth.
But who is substituted 'gainst the French,
I have no certain knowledge.

Arch.
Then let's on,
And publish the occasion of our Arms,
The Commonwealth is Sick of their own choice,
Their over-greedy Love has Surfeited.
A Habitation giddy and unsure
Has he who builds upon the vulgar Heart.
Oh thou fond Many! with what loud Applause
Did'st thou beat Heav'n with blessing Bullingbroke
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be?
And now he is dress'd up in thy own desire
Thou (Beastly feeder) art so full of him
That thou provok'st thy self to cast him up,
What Trust is in these times?
They who when Richard liv d, would have him dye
Are now become enamour'd on his Grave,
Thou that threw'st dust upon his Sacred Head
When thro' proud London he came Sighing on
After th' admired Heels of Bullinbroke,
Cry'st now, O Earth, yield us that King again

And take thou this, (O thoughts of Men accurst)
Past, and to come seems best, things present worst. Exeunt.

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