POINS

Good morrow sweet Hall. What says Monsieur remorse? what says sir John Sack, and Sugar Jack? how agrees the Devil and thee about thy soul that thou souldest him on good friday last, for a cup of Medera and a cold capons leg. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. How the rogue roared. Exeunt. But for mine own partly my Lord I could be well contentedly ted to be there, in respe to of the love bear your house. He could be contented, why is ee not then? in the respect of the love he bears our house he shows in this, he loves his own bairn better then he loves our house. Let me see some more. The purpose you vnderta e is dangerous, Why thats certain, 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink, but I tell you (my Lord fool) out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safety. The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have nam med uncertain, the time to S life unsorted, and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoise of so great and opposition. Say you so, say you so, I say unto you again, you are a shall low cowardly hind, and you lie: what a lack brain is this? by the Lord our plot is a good plot, as ever was laid, our friends true and constant: a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation: and excellent plot, very good friends; what a frosty spirited rogue is this? why my Lord of York commends the plot, and the gene rall course of the Actium. Zounds and I were now by this ras call I could brain him with his Ladies fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and my self; Lord Edmond Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen Glendower is there not beside the Dow+glas, have I not all their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month, and are they not some of them set for ward already? What a pagan rascal is this, and infidel? Would you shall see now in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings? Oh I could worser vide my self, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable and Actium. Hang him let him tell the king, we are prepared: I will set forward to night. Enter his Lady. How now Kate, I must leave you within these two hours. Oh Glendower. But my lads, my lads, to morrow morning, by four a clock early at Gadshill, there are Pilgrim's going to Cantur bury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses. I have vizards for you all you have horses for your selves, Gadshill lies to night in Rochester, I have bespoke supper to morrow night in Fastcheape: we may do it as secure as sleep, if you will go I will stuff your purses full of crowns: if you will not tarry at home and be hanged. You will chops. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon ̄ the exploit themselves, which they shall have no sooner achieved but weel set upon them. Tut, our horses they shall not see, isle tie them in the wood, our vizards we will change after we leave them: and sirrah, I have cases of Buckrom for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true bred cowards as ever turned back: and for the third, if he sighed longer then he sees reason, isle forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be the incomprehensible lies, that this same fat rogue will tell us when we meet at supper, how thirty at least he fought with, what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured, and in the reproof of this lives the jest. Farewell my Lord. Exit Poines. Come shelter, shelter, I have remoude Falstalffes horse, and he frets Like a gummed Velvet. Oh 'tis our setter, I know his voice, Bardoll, what news. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge, when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him: farewell & stand fast. Here, hard by, stand close. Stand close, I hear them coming. Frances. As merry as Crickets my lad, but hark you, what cunning match have you made with this jest of the Drawer: come whats the issue? I four in Buckrom suits. Come your reason, Jack your reason. Mark acke. Come, lets hear Jack, what trick hast thou now? Sir John, I preethe leave the prince and me alone, I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go. Now my good sweet honey Lord, ride with us to mor row. I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstalffe Harvey, Rossill, and Gadshil, shall rob those men that we have already waylaid, yourself and I will not be there and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders. Frances. Villains. Frances. Frances. Frances. Welcome Jack, where hast thou been? Zounds you fat paunch, and you call me coward by the Lord isle stab thee. I, I, he said four. Where hast been Hall? Frances. Anon, anon sir. Enter Poines. Down fell their hose.