K. Henry.
My lords of Suffolk and of Huntington,
Who scouts it now? or who stand sentinels?
What men of worth, what lords, do walk the round?

Suf.
May it please your highness—

K. Henry.
Peace, no more of that:
The king's asleep; wake not his majesty
With terms, nor titles; he's at rest in bed.
Kings do not use to watch themselves; they sleep,
And let rebellion and conspiracy
Revel and havock in the commonwealth.
Is London look'd unto?

Hunt.
It is, my lord;
Your noble uncle Exeter is there,
Your brother Gloucester, and my lord of Warwick;
Who, with the mayor and the aldermen,
Do guard the gates, and keep good rule within.
The earl of Cambridge and sir Thomas Grey
Do walk the round; lord Scroope and Butler scout:
So, though it please your majesty to jest,
Were you in bed, well might you take your rest.

K. Henry.
I thank ye lords; but you do know of old,
That I have been a perfect night-walker.
London, you say, is safely look'd unto,
(Alas, poor rebels, there your aid must fail;)
And the lord Cobham, sir John Oldcastle,
Quiet in Kent. Acton, you are deceiv'd;
Reckon again, you count without your host;
To-morrow you shall give account to us:
Till when, my friends, this long cold winter's night
How can we spend? King Harry is asleep,
And all his lords; these garments tell us so;
All friends at foot-ball, fellows all in field,
Harry, and Dick, and George. Bring us a drum^{6 note};
Give us square dice; we'll keep this court of guard^{7 note}

Where's that mad priest ye told me was in arms,
To fight as well as pray, if need requir'd?

Suf.
He's in the camp, and if he knew of this,
I undertake he would not be long hence.

K. Henry.
Trip Dick, trip George.

Hunt,
I must have the dice: what do we play at?

Suf.
Passage, if you please^{8 note}.

Hunt.
Set round then: so; at all.

K. Henry.
George, you are out;
Give me the dice, I pass for twenty pound:
Here's to our lucky passage into France.

Hunt.
Harry, you pass indeed, for you sweep all.

Suf.
A sign king Harry shall sweep all in France. Enter sir John.

Sir John.

Edge ye, good fellows^{9 note}; take a fresh gamester in.

K. Henry.

Master parson, we play nothing but gold.

Sir John.

And, fellow, I tell thee that the priest hath gold. Gold! what? ye are but beggarly soldiers to me; I think I have more gold than all you three.

Hunt.

It may be so; but we believe it not.

K. Henry.

Set, priest, set: I pass for all that gold.

Sir John.

You pass indeed.

K. Henry.

Priest, hast any more?

Sir John.
More! what a question's that?
I tell thee I have more than all you three.
At these ten angels.

K. Henry.
I wonder how thou com'st by all this gold.
How many benefices hast thou, priest?

Sir John.

'Faith, but one. Dost wonder how I come by gold? I wonder rather how poor soldiers should have gold. For I'll tell thee, good fellow; we have every day tithes, offerings, christenings, weddings, burials; and you poor snakes come seldom to a booty. I'll speak a proud word; I have but one parsonage, Wrotham; 'tis better than the bishoprick of Rochester: there's ne'er a hill, heath, nor down, in all Kent, but 'tis in my parish;—Barham-down, Cobham-down, Gads-hill, Wrotham-hill, Black-heath, Cocks-heath, Birchen-wood, all pay me tithe. Gold quoth-a? ye pass not for that.

Suf.

Harry, you are out: now, parson, shake the dice.

Sir John.

Set, set, I'll cover ye;—at all:—a plague on't, I am out. The devil, and dice, and a wench, who will trust them?

Suf.
Say'st thou so, priest? set fair; at all for once.

K. Henry.
Out, sir; pay all.

Sir John.
Sir, pay me angel gold:
I'll none of your crack'd French crowns nor pistolets;
Pay me fair angel gold, as I pay you.

K. Henry.

No crack'd French crowns! I hope to see more crack'd French crowns ere long^{1 note}

.

Sir John.

Thou mean'st of Frenchmen's crowns, when the king's in France.

Hun.
Set round; at all.

Sir John.
Pay all. This is some luck.

K. Henry.
Give me the dice; 'tis I must shred the priest* ^note:
At all, sir John.

Sir John.

The devil and all is yours. At that. 'Sdeath, what casting's this?

Suf.

Well thrown, Harry, i'faith.

K. Henry.

I'll cast better yet.

Sir John.

Then I'll be hang'd. Sirrah, hast thou not given thy soul to the devil for casting?

K. Henry.

I pass for all.

Sir John.

Thou passest all that e'er I play'd withal. Sirrah, dost thou not cog, nor foist, nor slur?

K. Henry.
Set, parson, set; the dice die in my hand.
When, parson, when^{2 note}? what, can you find no more?
Already dry? was't you bragg'd of your store?

Sir John.
All's gone but that.

Hun.
What? half a broken angel.

Sir John.
Why, sir, 'tis gold.

K. Henry.
Yea, and I'll cover it.

Sir John.
The devil give ye good on't! I am blind:
You have blown me up.

K. Henry.
Nay, tarry, priest; you shall not leave us yet:
Do not these pieces fit each other well?

Sir John.
What if they do?

K. Henry.
Thereby begins a tale.
There was a thief, in face much like sir John,
(But 'twas not he—that thief was all in green,)
Met me, last day, on Black-heath near the Park;
With him a woman. I was all alone
And weaponless; my boy had all my tools,
And was before, providing me a boat.
Short tale to make, sir John—the thief I mean—
Took a just hundred pound in gold from me.
I storm'd at it, and swore to be reveng'd,
If e'er we met. He, like a lusty thief,
Brake with his teeth this angel just in two,
To be a token at our meeting next;
Provided I should charge no officer

To apprehend him, but at weapon's point
Recover that and what he had beside.
Well met, sir John; betake you to your tools,
By torch-light; for, master parson, you are he
That had my gold.

Sir John.

'Zounds I won it in play, in fair square play, of the keeper of Eltham-park; and that I will maintain with this poor whynniard. Be you two honest men, to stand and look upon us, and let us alone, and take neither part^{3 note}.

K. Henry.
Agreed; I charge ye do not budge a foot:
Sir John, have at ye.

Sir John.
Soldier, 'ware your sconce. [As they are preparing to engage, Butler enters, and draws his sword to part them.

But.
Hold, villain, hold; my lords, what do ye mean,
To see a traitor draw against the king?

Sir John.
The king? God's will, I am in a proper pickle.

K. Henry.
Butler, what news? why dost thou trouble us?

But.
Please your majesty, it is break of day;
And as I scouted near to Islington,
The grey-ey'd morning^{4 note}
gave me glimmering
Of armed men coming down Highgate-hill,
Who by their course are coasting hitherward.

K. Henry.
Let us withdraw, my lords; prepare our troops
To charge the rebels, if there be such cause.

For this lewd priest, this devilish hypocrite,
That is a thief, a gamester, and what not,
Let him be hang'd up for example sake.

Sir John.

Not so, my gracious sovereign. I confess I am a frail man, flesh and blood as others are; but set my imperfections aside, you have not a taller man, nor a truer subject to the crown and state, than sir John of Wrotham is.

K. Henry.

Will a true subject rob his king?

Sir John.

Alas, 'twas ignorance and want, my gracious liege.

K. Henry.
'Twas want of grace. Why, you should be as salt
To season others with good document;
Your lives, as lamps to give the people light;
As shepherds, not as wolves to spoil the flock:
Go hang him, Butler. Didst thou not rob me?

Sir John.

I must confess I saw some of your gold; but, my dread lord, I am in no humour for death. God wills that sinners live; do not you cause me to die. Once in their lives the best may go astray; and if the world say true, yourself, my liege, have been a thief.

K. Henry.
I confess I have;
But I repent and have reclaim'd myself.

Sir John.
So will I do, if you will give me time.

K. Henry.
Wilt thou? my lords, will you be his sureties?

Hunt.
That when he robs again he shall be hang'd.

Sir John.
I ask no more.

K. Henry.
And we will grant thee that.
Live and repent, and prove an honest man;
Which when I hear, and safe return from France,
I'll give thee living. Till when, take thy gold,
But spend it better than at cards, or wine;
For better virtues fit that coat of thine.

Sir John.

Vivat rex, & currat lex. My liege, if ye have cause of battle, ye shall see sir John bestir himself in your quarrel.

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