• Enter PRINCE HENRY, POINS, BARDOLPH, and PETO

    POINS

    Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff’s horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.

    PRINCE HENRY

    Stand close.
    Exit POINS, BARDOLPH, and PETO exit
    Enter FALSTAFF

    FALSTAFF

    Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!

    PRINCE HENRY

    5Peace, you fat-kidneyed rascal. What a brawling dost thou keep!

    FALSTAFF

    Where’s Poins, Hal?

    PRINCE HENRY

    He is walked up to the top of the hill. I’ll go seek him.
    Exit PRINCE HENRY

    FALSTAFF

    I am accursed 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 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 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 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!
  • PRINCE HENRY, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH enter.

    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

    Stay hidden.
    POINS, PETO and BARDOLPH exit.
    FALSTAFF enters.

    FALSTAFF

    Poins! Poins, damn you! Poins!

    PRINCE HENRY

    Quiet, you fat-bellied jerk! What a racket you’re making!

    FALSTAFF

    Where’s Poins, Hal?

    PRINCE HENRY

    He walked up the hill. I’ll go find him.
    PRINCE HENRY exits.

    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.