Prin. Content, and the argument shall be, thy runing away
Fal. A, no more of that Hall, and thou louest me.
Enter Hostesse
Host. My Lord, the Prince?
Prin. How now my Lady the Hostesse, what say'st
thou to me?
Hostesse. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the
Court at doore would speake with you: hee sayes, hee
comes from your Father
Prin. Giue him as much as will make him a Royall
man, and send him backe againe to my Mother
Falst. What manner of man is hee?
Hostesse. An old man
Falst. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight?
Shall I giue him his answere?
Prin. Prethee doe Iacke
Falst. 'Faith, and Ile send him packing.
Enter.
Prince. Now Sirs: you fought faire; so did you Peto, so did you Bardol: you are Lyons too, you ranne away vpon instinct: you will not touch the true Prince; no, fie
Bard. 'Faith, I ranne when I saw others runne