Puslapio vaizdai
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2 Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jourden, and then we leak in the chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a Loach.

1 Car. What, oftler, come away, and be hang'd, come away!

2 Car, I have a gammon of bacon, and two razes of ginger, to be deliver'd as far as Charing-Crofs.

1 Car. 'Odsbody, the Turkies in my panniers are quite ftarv'd. What, oftler! a plague on thee; haft thou never an eye in thy head? canft not hear? an 'twere not as good a deed as drink, to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain. Come and be hang'd, haft no faith in thee?

Enter Gads-hill.

Gads. Good-morrow, carriers. What's a clock? 1 Car. I think it be two a Clock.

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thy lanthorn, to fee my gelding in the ftable.

1 Car. Nay, foft, I pray ye; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.

Gads. I pr'ythee, lend me thine.

2 Car. Ay, when? canft tell? lend me thy lanthorn, quoth a! marry, I'll fee thee hang'd first.

Gads. Sirrah, carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?

2 Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbour Mugges, we'll call up the gentlemen; they will along with company, for they have great charge. [Exeunt Carriers.

SCENE II.

Enter Chamberlain.

Gads, What, ho, chamberlain !

Chamb. At hand, quoth pick-purfe.

Gads. That's even as fair, as at hand, quoth the cham

berlain;

berlain; for thou varieft no more from picking of purses, than giving direction doth from labouring. Thou lay'st the plot how.

Chamb. Good-morrow, mafter Gads-bill, it holds currant that I told you yefternight. There's a Franklin in the wild of Kent, hath brought three hundred marks with him in gold; I heard him tell it to one of his company last night at fupper; a kind of auditor, one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what: they are up already, and call for eggs and butter. They will away prefently.

Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with a St. Nicholas clarks, I'll give thee this neck.

Chamb. No, I'll none of it: I pr'ythee, keep that for the hangman; for I know thou worshipp'ft St. Nicholas as truly as a man of falfhood may.

Gads. What talk'ft thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows. For if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou know't he's no starveling. Tut, there are other Trojans that thou dream'st not of, the which, for sport-fake, are content to do the profeffion fome grace; that would, if matters fhould be look'd into, for their own credit-fake, make all whole. I am join'd with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff fixpenny-ftrikers, none of thofe mad Muftachio-purple-hu'dmalt-worms; but with nobility and tranquillity; burgomafters and great owners, fuch as can hold in, fuch as will strike fooner than fpeak; and fpeak fooner than 4/think; and 5'think fooner than pray; and yet I lie, for they pray continually unto their faint the commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her; for they ride up and down on her, or make her their boots.

6

Chamb. What, the common-wealth their boots? will fhe hold out water in foul way?

(a) A cant-award for the Devil, old Nick.

Gads.

3 one-eyers or moneyers, 4 drink; ... old edit. Warb. emend.

5 drink... old edit. Warb. emend.

6 and

Gads. She will, fhe will; juftice hath liquor'd her. We steal, as in a castle, cock-fure; we have the receipt of Fern-feed, we walk invifible."

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

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

Chamb. 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 ftable. Farewel, you muddy knave! [Exeunt.

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Enter Prince Henry, Poins and Peto.

Poins. Come, fhelter, fhelter; I have removed Falstaff's

horse, and he frets like a gumm'd velvet.

P. Henry. Stand close.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Poins, Poins, and be hang'd, Poins!

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

Fal. What, Poins! Hal!

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

Fal. I am accurft to rob in that thief's company: the rafcal hath remov'd my horfe, and ty'd him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the fquare further afoot, I fhall break my wind. Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I 'fcape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forfworn his company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitch'd with the rogue's

rogue's company. If the rafcal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd; it could not be elfe; 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 verieft varlet that ever chew'd with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threefcore 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 to far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye, to colt me thus ?

P. Henry. Thou lieft, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.

Fal. I pr'ythee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good King's fon.

P. Henry. Out, you rogue, fhall I be your oftler?

Fal. Go hang thy felf 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 fung to filthy tunes, let a cup of fack be my poifon; when a jeft is fo forward, and afoot too, I hate it.

Enter Gads-hill and Bardolph.

Gads. Stand!

Fal. So I do against my will.

Poins. O, 'tis our fetter, I know his voice :

Bardolph, what news?

Bard. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your vizards; there's mony of the King's coming down the hill, 'tis going to the King's Exchequer.

Fal.

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. You four fhall front them in the narrow lane: Ned Poins and I will walk lower; if they 'fcape from your encounter, then they light on us.

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Peto. 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? 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 horfe ftands behind the hedge; when thou need'ft him, there fhalt thou find him; farewel, and ftand faft.

Fal. Now cannot I ftrike him if I fhould be hang'd. P. Henry. Ned, where are our difguifes?

Poins. Here hard by: ftand close.

Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole fay I; every man to his bufinefs,

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: Trav. Come, neighbour, the boy fhall lead our horfes down the hill: we'll walk a foot a while, and ease our legs. Thieves. Stand!

Trav. Jefu bless us !

Fal. Strike; down with them, cut the villains throats; ah! whorfon 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 ftore 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

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