VALENTINE Then know that I have little wealth to lose.
A man I am, crossed with adversity.
My riches are these poor habiliments,
Of which if you should here disfurnish me
You take the sum and substance that I have.
SECOND OUTLAW Whither travel you?
VALENTINE To Verona.
FIRST OUTLAW Whence came you?
VALENTINE From Mìlan.
THIRD OUTLAW Have you long sojourned there?
VALENTINE Some sixteen months, and longer might have stayed,
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. (4.1.11-22)
Valentine has to think quickly, to be honest up to a point, and plausible, but not to give too much away. I have little wealth to lose—not worth robbing, really. A man I am, crossed with adversity; I’m really up against it, down on my luck, fallen on hard times, and my riches are these poor habiliments—all I have is the clothes on my back—of which if you should here disfurnish me you take the sum and substance that I have. If you strip me of my clothes (a not uncommon form of theft, when clothes were expensive and readily sold on the second-hand market for cash, if not worn by the thieves themselves) you take pretty much all my possessions and all my wealth.
That seems to slow the outlaws down, so it’s time for a quiz, either as a series of basic requests for information, out of curiosity, perhaps gaging what kind of man this is, or else to catch him out, get him to reveal how much he’s really worth. Where are you going? Verona. (Is Valentine really going home? No way of knowing.) Whence came you? From Milan. (Might that impress them? perhaps. He’s been in the big city, left in a hurry.) And have you long sojourned there: how long were you in Milan, then? Valentine’s first lie, probably: some sixteen months (it’s nowhere near that long) and longer might have stayed, if crooked fortune had not thwarted me. It’s pure bad luck that led to my leaving Milan—I’m in as bad a way as you are! is partly the implication. I’ve been hard done by: things were going so well, and then it all fell apart; my luck deserted me and everything went wrong.