I am accurs'd to rob in that thief's company. The rascal hath
removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I travel but
four foot by the squire 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 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 I'll rob a foot further. An
'twere not as good 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! (They whistle.) Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my
horse, you rogues! give me my horse and be hang'd!
PRINCE [comes forward] Peace, ye fat-guts! Lie down, lay thine ear
close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of
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 to colt me thus?
Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king's
Go hang thyself in thine 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.
Strike! down with them! cut the villains' throats! Ah,
whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth. Down
with them! fleece them!
O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs;
I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves!
young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye? We'll jure ye,
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
[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
them. THey all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or
two, runs awasy too, leaving the booty behind them.]
Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse.
The thieves are scattered, 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.
Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.