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with him in gold; I heard him tell it to one of his company last night at supper; 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, l'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'ít St. Nicholas as truly as a man of falfhood may.

Gads. What talk'st 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'st, he's no starveling. Tut, there are other Trojans that thou dream'It not of, the which, for sport-sake, are content to do the profession some grace; that would, if matters should 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: (13) burgomasters, and great Moneyers ; such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak; and speak, sooner than drink; and drink, sooner than pray; and yet I lye, for they pray continually unto their 'Saint the Common-wealth; or rather, not pray

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(13) Burgo-masters, and great one-eyers.] Perhaps oneraires, Trustees or Commisioners ; fays Mr. Pope. But how this Word comes to admit of any such Construction, I am at a loss to know. The Word is apparently of French Termination; and must have its Derivation from Onus of the Latines: accordingly the French fay Nefs oneraires, Ships of Burthen : and so un Agent oneraire is such an Agent qui a le Soin & la Charge d'une chose, dont un autre a l'honneur. So that this Exposition does not at all sort with the Characters intended by our Author. "To Mr. Pope's second Conjecture, of cunning Men that look marp and aim well, I have nothing to reply seriously : but choose to drop it. I formerly suspected that we should read Seigniors; but I retract it as a bad Conjecture. The Reading, which I have now substituted, I owe to the Friendship of the ingenious Nicholas Hardinge, E1q;. A Moneyer, is an Officer of the Mint, which makes Coin and delivers out the King's Money Moneyers are also taken for Banquers, or those that make it their Trade to turn and return Money. Either of these Acceptations will admirably square with our Author's Context.

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to her, but prey on her; for they ride up and down on her, and make her their boots.

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

Gads. She will, the will; justice hath liquor'd her. We steal, as in a castle, cock-sure ; we have the receipt of Fern-seed, we walk invisible.

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

Gads. Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share 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 stable. Farewel, ye muddy knave.


SCENE changes to the Highway.

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Enter Prince Henry, Poins, and Peto. Poins. OME, shelter, shelter; 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 rascal, what a brawl. ing dost thou keep?

Fal. What, Poins! Hal!

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

Fal. I am accurst to rob in that thief's company : the rascal hath remov'd my horse, and ty'd him, I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the square farther 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 com


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pany hourly any time this two and twenty year, 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 to drink, to turn true-man, and to leave these rogues, I am the veriest varler that ever chew'd 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'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'a.

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 Aeíh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye, to colt me thus?

P. Henry. Thou liest, tủou art not colted, thou arc uncolted.

Fal. I prythee, good Prince Haly help me to my horse, good King's son. P. Henry. Out, you rogue ! shall I be your

oftler? Fal. Go hang thy self 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 sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison; when a jest is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.

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Enter Gads-hill and Bardolph.

Gads. Stand,
Fal. So I do against my will.

Poins. O, ’ris our Setter, I know his voice :
Bardolph, what news?
Bard. Cafe


ye; on with your visors; there's VOL. III.



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 shall 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 horse stands behind the hedge; when thou need'st him, there shalt thou find him ; farewel, and stand fast.

i Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be

hang'd. P. Henry. Ned, where are our disguises ? Poins. Here, hard by: stand close.

Fal. Now my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business.

Enter Travellers.

Trav. Come, neighbour ; the boy shall lead our horses down the hill: we'll walk a foot a while, and ease our legs.

Thieves. Stand,
Trav. Jesu bless us !

Fal. Strike ; down with them, cut the villains throats; ah! whorson caterpillars ; bacon-fed-knaves; they hate us youth; down with them, fleece them.

Trav. O, we are undone, both we and ours for


Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are you undone ? no, ye fat chuffs, I would your store were here. On,


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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 Prince Henry and Poins. P. Henry. The thieves have bound the true men: now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jeft for ever. Poins. Stand close, I hear them coming.

Enter Thieves again.
Fal. 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 wild Duck.

P. Henry. Your mony.
Poins. Villains !
[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon

them. They all run away, and Falstaff after a
blow or two runs away too, leaving the booty be-

bind them.
P. Henry, Got with much ease. Now merrily to

The thieves are scatter'd, and poffest with fear
So strongly, that they dare not meet each other;
Each takes his fellow for an officer.
Away, good Ned. Now Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
Poins. How the rogue roar'd!


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SCENE, Lord Percy's House.

Enter Hot-spur folus, reading a letter.

own I
tented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your
House. He could be contented to be there; why is
he not then? in respect of the love he bears our House !
B b 2



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