Arch. ^note
Thus have you heard our cause ^note and known ^note our means;
And ^note, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes:
And first, lord marshal, what say you to it?

Mowb. ^note
I well allow the occasion of our arms;
But gladly would be better satisfied
How in our means we should advance ourselves
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the power and puissance of the king.

Hast.
Our present musters grow upon the file
To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
And our supplies live ^note largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.

L. Bard.
The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus;
Whether our present five and twenty thousand

May hold up head without Northumberland?

Hast.
With him, we may.

L. Bard.
Yea ^note, marry, there's the point:
But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My judgement is, we should not step too far
Till we had his assistance by the hand;
For in a theme so bloody-faced as this
Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
Of aids incertain ^note should not be admitted ^note.

Arch.
'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed
It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

L. Bard.
It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope,
Eating the air on ^note promise of supply,
Flattering himself in ^note project of a power
Much 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
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.

L. Bard.
Yes, if this present quality of war,
Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot,
Lives ^note so in hope, as in an early spring
We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit,
Hope gives not so much warrant as despair
That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
And when we see the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the cost of the erection;
Which if we find outweighs ability,
What do we then but draw anew the model
In fewer offices, or at least ^note desist

To build at all? Much more, in this great work,
Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
And set another up, should we survey
The plot of situation ^note and ^note the model,
Consent ^note upon a sure foundation,
Question surveyors, know our own estate, ^note
How able such a work to undergo,
To weigh ^note against his ^note opposite; or else ^note
We ^note fortify in paper ^note and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men:
Like one ^note that draws the model of a house ^note
Beyond his power to build it; who, half through ^note,
Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost ^note
A naked subject to the weeping clouds,
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

Hast.
Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth,
Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd ^note
The utmost man of expectation,
I think we are a body ^note strong enough,
Even as we are, to equal with the king.

L. Bard.
What, is the king but five and twenty thousand?

Hast.
To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph.
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
Are ^note in three heads: one power against the French,
And one 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 ^note dreaded.

Hast.
If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh
Baying ^note him at the heels: never fear that. ^note

L. Bard.
Who is it like should lead his forces hither?

Hast.
The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:
But who is substituted 'gainst ^note the French,
I have no certain notice.

Arch.
Let us on,
And publish the occasion of our arms.
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
Their ^note over-greedy love hath surfeited:
An habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many ^note, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now ^note trimm'd ^note in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provokest thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,
Are ^note now become enamour'd on his grave:
Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head

When through proud London he came sighing on
After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Criest now ‘O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this!’ O thoughts of men accursed!
Past and to come seems ^note best; things present, worst ^note. ^note

Mowb. ^note
Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?

Hast.
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. [Exeunt. ^note

Previous section