FALSTAFF.
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?
FALSTAFF.
Mine, Hal, mine.
PRINCE.
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
FALSTAFF.
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.
WESTMORELAND.
Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.
FALSTAFF.
Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never learned that of me.
PRINCE.
No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy is already in the field.
[Exit.]
FALSTAFF.
What, is the King encamped?