'Icape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitch'd with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd; it could not be elle; I have drunk medicines. Poins ! Hal! a Plague upon you both. . Bardolph! Peto! I'll ftarve, ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good a deed as to drink, to turn true-man, and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chew'd with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground, is threescore and ten miles afoot with me: and the ftony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true one to another. [They whistle. Whew! — a plague upon you all. Give me my horse ; you rogues, give me my horse; and be hang'd. P. Henry. Peace, ye fat guts, lie down, lay thine ear close to the ground, and lift if thou canst hear the tread of travellers. Fal. Have you any leavers to lift me up again, being down ? 'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh fo far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye, to colt me thus ? P. Henry. Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. Fal. I pr’ythee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good King's son. P. Henry. Out, you rogue! shall I be your oftler? Fal. Gó hang thyself in thy own heir-apparent garters ; if I be ta’en, I'll peach for this ; an I have not ballads made on you all, and sung to filthy lunes, let a cup of fack be my poison; when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! 'I hate it. Enter Gads-hill and Bardolph. Poins. Irat. Uhorses down the hill : we'll walk a foot Poins. O, ’ris our Setter, I know his voice : Bardolph, what news ? Bard. Case ye, case ye; on with your visors ; there's money of the King's coming down the hill, 'tis going to the King's Exchequer. Fal. You lie, you rogue, 'tis going to the King's tavern. Gads. There's enough to make us all. P. Henry. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane ; Ned Poins and I will walk lower; if they 'scape from your encounter, then they light on Peto. But how many be of them ? Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal. P. Henry. Well, we'll leave that to the proof., Poins. Sirrah, Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge ; when thou need'st him, there shalt thou find him; farewel, and stand fast Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd. P. Henry. Ned, where are our disguises ? Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business. S CE N E IV. Enter Travellers. OME, neighbour; the boy shall lead our a while, and ease our legs. Thieves. Stand, Fal. Fal. Strike; down with them, cut the villains' throats ; ah! whoreson caterpillars ; bacon-fed knaves; they hate us youth ; down with them, fleece thein. Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever. Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are you undone ? no, ye fat chuffs, I would your store were here. On, bacons, on! what, ye knaves ? young men must live; you are grand jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye,. i'faith. (Here they rob and bind them: Exeunt. Enter Prince Henry and Poins. P. Henry. The thieves have bound the true men: now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming. Enter Thieves again. Fal. Come, my masters, let us sharė, and then to horse before day;.an the Prince and Poins be not two arrant Cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins, than in a wild Duck. P. Henry. Your money. fet upon them. They all run away, and Falstaff after a blow or two runs away too, leaving the booty behind theni. [horse : P. Henry. Got with much ease. Now merrily to The thieves are scatter'd, and posseft with fear So strongly, that they dare not meet each other; Each takes his fellow for an officer. Away, good Ned. Now Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along : Were't not for laughing, I should pity him. Poins. How the rogue roar'd!, [Excunt. SCENE C 3 Lord Percy's House. tented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your House. He could be contented to be there; why is he not then? in respect of the love he bears our House ! he shews in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our House. Let me see some more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous. Why, that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. The purpose you Undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named uncertain, the time itself unforted, and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an opposition. Say you so, say you so ? 'I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie... What a lack-brain is this ? By the lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid ; our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this? Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the adion. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. 'Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself , Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not besides, the Dowglas ? have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are there not some of them set forward already? What a Pagan rascal is this ? an infidel. Ha ! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish 1 dish of skimm'd milk with so honourable an action. Hang him, let him tell the King. We are prepared, I will set forward to night. Tell me, Enter Lady Percy. How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone ? For what offence have I this fortnight been A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed ? sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee these ? Hot. |