herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to
say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint
Alban's, or the red-nose inn-keeper of Daventry.
But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on
every hedge. 53
Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmoreland.
Prince. How now, blown Jack! how now,
quilt!
Fal. What, Hal! How now, mad wag! what a
devil dost thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord
of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy: I thought
your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
West. Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time
that I were there, and you too; but my powers
are there already. The king, I can tell you, looks
for us all: we must away all night. 63
Fal. Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as
a cat to steal cream.
Prince. I think to steal cream indeed, for
thy theft hath already made thee butter. But
tell me. Jack, whose fellows are these that come
after?
Fal. Mine, Hal, mine. 70
Prince. I did never see such pitiful rascals.
Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for
powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well
as better: tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
West. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are
exceeding poor and bare; too beggarly. 76
Fal. Faith, for their poverty, I know not
where they had that; and for their bareness, I
am sure they never learned that of me. 79
54 blown: swollen
58 cry you mercy: beg your pardon
72 to toss: i.e., upon a pike
