Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff's horse, and
he frets like a gummed velvet.
POINS
Come on, hide, hide! I stole Falstaff's horse, and he's rubbed the wrong way; he's fraying like cheap velvet.
PRINCE HENRY
Stand close.
PRINCE HENRY
Stay hidden.
Exit POINS, BARDOLPH, and PETO exit
POINS, PETO and BARDOLPH exit.
Enter FALSTAFF
FALSTAFF enters.
FALSTAFF
Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
FALSTAFF
Poins! Poins, damn you! Poins!
PRINCE HENRY
5
Peace, you fat-kidneyed rascal. What a brawling dost thou
keep!
PRINCE HENRY
Quiet, you fat-bellied jerk! What a racket you're making!
FALSTAFF
Where's Poins, Hal?
FALSTAFF
Where's Poins, Hal?
PRINCE HENRY
He is walked up to the top of the hill. I'll go seek him.
PRINCE HENRY
He walked up the hill. I'll go find him.
Exit PRINCE HENRY
PRINCE HENRY
exits.
FALSTAFF
I am accursed to rob in that thief's company. The rascal hath
10
removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I travel
but 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 years, and
15
yet I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal
hath not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be
hanged. It could not be else: I have drunk medicines.—
Poins! Hal! A plague upon you both.—Bardolph! Peto!—
I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good
20
a deed as drink to turn true man and to leave these rogues,
I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed 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 it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
FALSTAFF
I got a raw deal, to be out robbing with him. He stole my horse and tied him up someplace. If I have to walk even four feet more, I'll be totally out of breath. Still, I bet I'll die a natural death—if I don't get hanged for killing that jerk, that is. Every hour for the past twenty-two years, I've sworn I'd never talk to him again, but I love his company. He must have slipped me a love potion that makes me adore him. Damn, that must be it: I have drunk love potions. Poins! Hal! Drop dead, the both of you! Bardolph! Peto! I'll die if I have to walk another foot. If turning honest and abandoning these jerks weren't the best things I could possibly do for myself, then I'm the worst scoundrel that ever lived. Eight yards of rough road is like seventy miles to me, and these hard-hearted crooks know it. It stinks when there's no honor among thieves.
