flesh so far afoot again for all the coin in thy
father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to
colt me thus?
Prince. Thou liest: thou art not colted; thou
art uncolted. 45
Fal. I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to
my horse, good king's son.
Prince. Out, you rogue! shall I be your ostler?
Fal. Go, hang thyself in thine own heir appa-
rent 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. 53
Enter Gadshill [and Bardolph].
Gads. Stand.
Fal. So I do, against my will.
Poins. O! 'tis our setter: I know his voice.
Bardolph, what news? 57
Bard. Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards:
there's money of the king's coming down the
hill; 'tis going to the king's exchequer. 60
Fal. You lie, you rogue; 'tis going to the
king's tavern.
Gads. There's enough to make us all.
Fal. To be hanged. 64
Prince. 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. 68
Peto. How many be there of them?
Gads. Some eight or ten.
43 colt: make a fool of
50 peach: turn informer
53 forward: bold
56 setter: the one who set the match; cf. I. ii. 118
58 Case ye: put on your masks
