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thy boots. We’ll ride all night.—O sweet Pistol!—Away,
charge of all the luck in the world! Get your boots on. We’ll ride through the night. Oh sweet Pistol! Get going, Bardolph!
Come, Pistol, utter more to me, and withal devise something
120to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow. I know the
young King is sick for me. Let us take any man’s horses. The
laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are they
that have been my friends, and woe to my Lord Chief
Pistol, tell me more, and help me think of something good we can do for you. Boots, boots, Master Shallow! I know the young King is dying to see me. Let’s just take anybody’s horses; I rule the laws of England now! Blessed are those who have been my friends, and watch out, Lord Chief Justice!


125Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
“Where is the life that late I led?” say they.
Why, here it is. Welcome these pleasant days.


May vultures eat out his lungs, too! You know the old saying, “What happened to the life I used to lead?” Well, they’re here; welcome to these pleasant days.
They exit.

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