March 1413
A prison in London
The world was wrong.
It had been so for a while, and they'd all known it. They just hadn't wanted to see it. Surely there was time for one more adventure, one more fleece, one more carefree night before the loans came due, before the bailiffs came knocking, before the illnesses presented, and before time or luck pulled another of them away.
And for one brief moment it had seemed like there was hope.
He had been set to become the greatest in the land. He was friend to the prince, and now he would be friend to the king. He would rise from tavern reckonings to royal credit.
He had promised to take them all up with him. All his friends, and all his associates. Not only would his own money troubles have been a thing of the past, but so would theirs. The new king, who had mingled so long in their company as the prince, would salvage them all. Everything was going to be all right. But then–
I know thee not, old man.
Every word out of Hal's mouth had been horrible, but those first six words hurt the most.
His own reaction pained him as well: his paralyzed silence as Hal spoke, and then his insistence afterwards that, no, seriously, Hal was just kidding and they were about to be sent for in private, because of course now that Hal was king he had to pretend not to like them anymore... and then the horror as they'd realized it was no joke: they were really banished, really carried off in chains.
They would allegedly be provided for, given a modest means to keep them off the proverbial streets; but they were all banished from a ten-mile radius around the new king. Unless they "reformed," so they were told. As if a man of his age could unlearn his vocation! And meanwhile they sat in a dark, damp cell on a dark, damp night, guarded by bailiffs, waiting for arraignment.
Maybe their debts would be paid off as part of this new 'allowance.' Or maybe they would all be forced into debtor's servitude or public service for God only knew how long.
Part of that question was about to be answered, as the beadles Fang and Snare arrived. He assumed they were there to arraign him, but instead they addressed one of his companions.
"Justice Shallow," said Fang, "in view of your long service to the law, you shall be loosed on terms you sever ties with bandits, rogues, and other malefactors."
"That I will gladly do," said Robert Shallow, as he pulled himself to his feet by his cane. "I suppose it is too much to hope that my thousand pounds will be repaid, since the man I lent it to is without means aside from those provided by the king?" He spoke as if his debtor were not in the cell with him.
"We would not know about that," replied Snare with an awkward glance at Fang.
"I thought not." Shallow stormed out, as best his withered frame could storm, without so much as a backward glance at his companions. "I shall return to Gloucestershire at once."
"Now then," said Fang. "Ensign Pistol is to be arraigned alongside the Mistresses Quickly and Tearsheet, for the killing of one William Visor."
"We were defending ourselves from a battering! Nemo nos impuné lacessit!" roared Pistol, his excited speech the usual morass of mangled Latin and misquotes from plays.
"That is for law's determinance, not ours. Now, this old fat man and his two remaining companions will be delivered up to any place they choose, outside of London. Come along." The beadles led the 'old fat man' in question, along with Bardolph and young Robin, to the door. "You have three days to settle what affairs you have, and leave. You may send messengers once you are settled, and you will be sent a reply regarding your allowance. Until then, farewell." And with that, the doors opened in front of them and closed behind them.
Sir John Falstaff saw the sky once more.
Not that there was much difference between outside and inside. It was a muggy night, the sky almost obscured by the smoke and dull orange glow from the city's bonfires and lanterns. The telltale odor of the wagons carting the city's excreta to the nitrate beds tickled their noses alongside the smoke. They could hear some music from the marketplaces, even at night, but it was mixed with the sounds of a brawl breaking out somewhere in the city. A horse and empty carriage ran by them, in flight from something or other, kicking up mud as it went.
Falstaff was used to all that. Right now, he barely noticed it. "We 'will be sent for,' says he? Indeed we shall be sent for when God's trumpets sound, but until that day we will be as birds pecking at crumbs from the hands of Lancaster and the Lord Chief Justice. If Hal will not by association tarnish his own crown, not a crown of his will reach us before passing through their tight-knit fingers, which will play upon a lyre's strings and have us dance like puppets for their amusement."
"So what do you suggest we do, Sir John?" Bardolph asked.
"I know not."
Then they heard a familiar voice behind them. "I am sent to transport prisoners to trial. I have a document to that effect. The prisoners: two women and a man."
It was fortunate that Fang and Snare were not the most perceptive of men. Peto's forgery skills were not exactly refined, and the horse and carriage he had brought for the three remaining prisoners was clearly civilian. On Fang and Snare, however, the ruse worked; and so Pistol, Nell Quickly and Doll Tearsheet were loaded into the cart. Falstaff, Bardolph and Robin concealed themselves out of sight and followed at a distance until they were safely out of the city.
After that, the six conferred. Well, three of them conferred. Falstaff, who had never voluntarily traveled so far on foot in his life, was too winded to speak for a while, and so busied himself with silently breaking up the frequent arguments between Pistol and Doll. It was down to Quickly, Bardolph and Robin to actually plan their next move.
"We have no choice but to fly!" insisted Quickly. "The officers will scour the Boar's Head Tavern for sign of us, assuming it hath not been repossessed yet!"
"Some of us might tarry and see about the allowance," Bardolph said, but he already knew that would not do.
"Easy for one who is not scheduled for whipping to say. Do you expect the king to allowance me?"
Bardolph looked over at the other three, arguing as they were. He knew Falstaff would never be pleased with the arrangement offered. But still he wondered, "In what place may such persons as us begin anew?"
Robin, despite his rapidly learning the habits of his master and their companions, was still a child who had seen one too many pastoral plays, so as he examined a somewhat tattered map of Britain, he said, "Perhaps in the 'Shires and woods we may live as Robin Hood."
The three of them eventually voted to travel to Gloucestershire and try to reconcile with Justice Shallow; and if they could not do that, then to seek out some other of Falstaff's old acquaintances. And if all that failed, they would make their way to Dover and catch a ship bound for France, where they could perhaps scout out the Forest of Arden for a possible camp. Apparently the local duke was a genial sort.
Now they just had to broach the idea to the others.
Falstaff was skeptical that he could reconcile with Shallow, but Doll Tearsheet reminded him, "You talk your way back to her good graces every time."
"The plan is an excellent one," said Falstaff instantly, hoping to steer the topic away from his repeated promises of marriage to Mistress Quickly. "Peto, art thou rejoining with us?"
"Nay, I fear I must return," said Peto. "I merely came to do one final deed before retirement."
So, Peto was going to take the king's offer of reform after all. This wasn't exactly a surprise. At their last tavern adventure, Peto had pulled Hal away and gone with him just like Poins had. But at least Peto was here to save them now; Poins was probably gloating with the Lord Chief Justice over tea and crumpets. Falstaff gave him a smile and farewell, then grumbled to Bardolph, "Hal hath cleansed his image so thoroughly that the polish spills onto those around him."
Bardolph had participated in that last prank on Falstaff as well, but now was not the time to mention that, so he replied in kind, "It spreads like some disease."
"Talk not of diseases now. A plague hath befallen the kingdom."
"Before we depart, shall we go back for our horses?" Bardolph addressed the group.
"We have no time!" insisted Quickly.
Falstaff was about to protest, but Doll interrupted him, "Come, we may rustle horses on our way."