SIR JOHN.
Stand, thief, too.
KING. Then, thief or true-man, I see I must stand. I see, how soever the world wags, the trade of thieving yet will never down. What art thou?
SIR JOHN.
A good fellow.
KING.
So am I too. I see thou dost know me.
SIR JOHN. If thou be a good fellow, play the good fellow’s part: deliver thy purse without more ado.
KING.
I have no money.
SIR JOHN. I must make you find some before we part. If you have no money, you shall have war: as many sound dry blows as your skin can carry.
KING.
Is that the plain truth?
SIR JOHN. Sirra, no more ado; come, come, give me the money you have. Dispatch, I cannot stand all day.
KING. Well, if thou wilt needs have it, there tis: just the proverb, one thief robs another. Where the devil are all my old thieves, that were wont to keep this walk? Falstaff, the villain, is so fat, he cannot get on’s horse, but me thinks Poines and Peto should be stirring here about.