SCENE II.
The road by Gads-hill.
Enter Prince Henry, Poins, and Peto.
Poins.
Come, shelter, shelter; I have remov'd
Falstaff's horse, and he frets like a gumm'd velvet2 note.
P. Henry.
Stand close.
-- 301 --
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Poins! Poins, and be hang'd! Poins!
P. Henry.
Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal; What a
brawling dost 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 3 note
four foot by the
square further 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
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 4 notemedicines 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 I'll
5 note
rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good a deed as
-- 302 --
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 stony-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 list if thou canst hear the
tread of travellers.
Fal.
Have you any levers 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, 6 note
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 ostler?
Fal.
Go, hang thyself in thy own 7 note
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.
-- 303 --
Enter Gads-hill.
Gads.
Stand.
Fal.
So I do, against my will.
Poins.
O, 'tis our setter; I know his voice.
8 note
Bard.
What news!—
Gads.
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.
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.
Peto.
But how many be there of them?
Gads.
Some eight, or ten.
Fal.
Zounds! will they not rob us?
P. Hen.
What, a coward, sir John Paunch?
Fal.
Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather;
but yet no coward, Hal.
P. Hen.
Well, we leave that to the proof.
Poins.
Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the
hedge; when thou need'st him, there thou shalt find
him. Farewel, and stand fast.
-- 304 --
Fal.
Now cannot I strike him, if I should be
hang'd.
P. Hen.
Ned, where are our disguises?
Poins.
Here, hard by; stand close.
Fal.
Now, my masters, happy man be his dole9 note
,
say I; every man to his business.
Enter Travellers.
Trav.
Come, neighbour; the boy shall lead our
horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot a while, and
ease our legs.
Thieves.
Stand.9Q0675
Trav.
Jesu bless us!
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, 1 note
gorbellied knaves; Are ye undone?
-- 305 --
No, ye fat chuffs2 note
; 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 men3 note
:
Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily
to London, it would be argument4 note
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
-- 306 --
arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's no
more valour in that Poins, than in a wild duck.
P. Henry.
Your money.
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 behind him.]
P. Henry.
Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
The thieves are scatter'd, and possess'd with fear
So strongly, that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Wer't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins.
How the rogue roar'd!
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
