Scroop.
Sir John hath now his lesson. Speed him forth
When Harry falls, to horse, and spur away,
With a choice party of light troops, to Mortimer,
Conduct him hither with the utmost speed:
His guards, surpriz'd, will stand not in resistance.
Mean time, we'll seize the uncles and the brothers,
As chief abettors of king Harry's murther.
Nay, Falstaff shall declare they set him on,
Or, by yon heav'n, we'll hang him Haman's height.
What troops are there embark'd?

Cam.
Ev'n all but those o'er which we have command;
And of Sir Thomas Grey, our loyal friend.

Scroop.
That's well contriv'd. I left the legate busy,
In raising monies, and fomenting treason.
In ten days time half London will be ripe
To spurn at sacrilegious Hal, and join us.
But here's Sir Thomas Grey.

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