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 Enter Chamberlain. Gads. What, ho, chamberlain! Cham. At hand, quoth pick-purse. II. Gads. That's ev'n as fair, as at hand, quoth the chamberlain; for thou varieft no more from picking of purses, than giving direction doth from labouring. Thou lay'ft the plot how. Chamb.Good-morrow, master 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 presently. Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with St. Nicholas' clarks, I'll give thee this neck. Cham. 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. 5 St. Nicholas' clarks,] St. Nicholas was the Patron Saint of fcholars And Nicholas, or Old Nick, is a cant name for the Devil. Hence he equivocally calls robbers, St. Nicholas's clarks. Gads. 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'ft, he's no ftarveling. Tut, there are other Trojans that thou dream'ft not of, the which, for fport-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-fix-penny-strikers, none of those mad Mustachio-purple-hu'd-malt-worms; but with nobility and tranquillity; burgomafters, and great (a) Moneyers; fuch as can hold in, fuch as will ftrike fooner than fpeak; and speak sooner than think; and think fooner than pray; and yet I lye, for they pray continually unto their Saint the Common-wealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her; for they ride up and down on her, and make her their boots. Cham. What, the common-wealth their boots? will fhe hold out water in foul way? Gads. She will, fhe will; juftice hath liquor'd her. We steal as in a caftle, cock-fure; we have the receipt of Fern-feed, we walk invifible. 6 Such as will ftrike fooner than speak; and speak Sooner than DRINK; and DRINK, fooner than pray; ] According to the fpecimen, given us in this play, of this diffolute gang, we have no reafon to think they were lefs ready to drink than speak. Befides, it is plain, a natural gradation was here intended to be given of their actions, relative to one another. But what has fpeaking, drinking and praying to do with one another? We fhould certainly read THINK in both places inftead of drink; and then we have a very regular and humourous climax. They will ftrike fooner than Speak; and speak fooner than THINK; and THINK fooner than pray. By which laft words is meant, that Tho' perhaps they may How and then reflect on their crimes, they will never repent of them. The Oxford Editor has dignified this correction by his adoption of it. 7 She will, he will; juftice hath liquor'd ber.] A Satire on chicane, in courts of juftice; which fupports ill men in their vioJations of the law, under the very cover of it. [(a) Moneyers. N. Hardinge, Efq.-Vulg. One-eyers.] Cham. Cham. Nay, I think rather, you are more beholden to the night, than the Fern-feed, for your walking invifible. Gads. Give me thy hand: thou fhalt have a fhare in our purchase, as I am a true man. Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a falfe thief. Gads. Go to,-Homo is a common name to all men. Bid the oftler bring my Gelding out of the ftable. Farewel, ye muddy knave. [Exeunt. Poins. velvet. Changes to the Highway. Enter Prince Henry, Poins, and Peto. P. Henry. Stand close. Enter Falstaff. Fal. Poins, Poins, and be hanged, Poins! P. Henry. Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal, what a brawling 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 rascal hath remov'd my horfe, and ty'd him, I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the fquare farther afoot, I fhall 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 forfworn his 8 four foot by the fquare] The thought is humourous, and alludes to his bulk: Infinuating, that his legs being four foot afunder, when he advanced four foot, this put together made four foot fquare. company company hourly any time this two and twenty year, and yet I am bewitch'd with the 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 starve, ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as good a deed as to drink, to turn true-man, and to leave thefe rogues, I am the veriest 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 clofe 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 fo 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 horfe, 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 Setter, I know his voice: Bardolph, what news? Bard. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your visors; there's mony 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 fhall 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 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 stand fast. Fal. Now cannot I ftrike him, if I fhould be hang'd. P. Henry. Ned, where are our difguifes? Poins. Here, hard by: ftand clofe. Fal. Now, my mafters, happy man be his dole, fay I; every man to his bufinefs. SCE N E IV. Enter Travellers. 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 blefs us! Fal. |