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Cham. Nay, I think rather, you are more beholden to the night, than the Fern-seed, for your walking invisible.

Gads. Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a true man.

Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.

Gads. Go to,-Homo is a common name to all men. Bid the oftler bring my Gelding out of the stable. Farewel, ye muddy knave.

[Exeunt.

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S с E N E III.

Changes to the Highway.
Enter Prince Henry, Poins, and Peto.
Poins. OME, shelter, shelter ; I have removed

Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gumm'd
yelvet.
P. Henry. Stand clofe.

Enter Falstaff
Fal. Poins, Poins, and be hanged, Poins !

P. Henry. Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal, what a brawling doft thou keep?

Fal. What, Poins! Hal!

P. Henry. He is walk'd up to the top of the hill, I'll go seek him.

Fal. I am accurst to rob in that thief's company : the rascal hath remov'd my horse, and ty'd him, I know not where. If I travel but 8 four foot by the square farther afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his

8 four foot by the square] The thought is humourous, and alludes to his bulk: Insinuating, that his legs being four foot asunder, when he advanced four foot, this put together made four foot square.

company

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 else; I have
drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! a Plague upon you
both. Bardolph! Peto! I'll starve, ere l'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, lye 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 so 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 Ion. P. Henry. Out, you rogue ! shall I be your

ostler ? Fal. Go hang thy self 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 tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison ; when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

.

Enter Gads-hill and Bardolph.
Gads. Stand,
Fal. So I do against my will.

Poins. 0, 'tis our Setter, I know his voice: Bardolph, what news?

Bard. Case ye, cafe ye ; on with your visors; there's mony 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.
Fal. To be hang'd.

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 us.

Beto. But how many be of them?
Gads. Some eight or ten.
Fal. Zounds! will they not rob us?
P. Henry. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch.

Fel. 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 horfe stands behind the hedge; when thou need'st hin, 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?
Poins. Here, hard by: stand close.

Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business.

S СЕ N E IV.

Enter Travellers. Trav. Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our horses down the hill : we'll walk a foot a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand,
Trav. Jesu bless us !

Fal.

Fal. Strike; down with them, cut the villains' throats; ah! whorson caterpillars; bacon-fed knaves; they hate us youth ; down with them, fleece them.

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 share, 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 mony.
Poins. Villains !
[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins

set upon them. They all run away, and Falstaff after a blow or two runs away too, leaving the booty

bebind them.
P. Henry. Got with much ease. Now merrily to

horse:
The thieves are scatter'd, and poffest 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!

[Exeunt. SCENE

S С E N E V.

Lord Percy's House.
Enter Hot-fpur folus, reading a letter.
BURE

UT for mine own part, my lord, I could be well

contented 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 Thews 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 it self unforted, and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize of so great an opposition. Say

you so, fay 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 conftant: 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 action. 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 my felf, 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

9 brain him with his lady's fan.] The fans, then in fashion, had very long handles.

of

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