Prince. What men?
She. One of them is well knowne, my gracious Lord,
a grosse fat man
Car. As fat as Butter
Prince. The man, I doe assure you, is not heere,
For I my selfe at this time haue imploy'd him:
And Sherife, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will by to morrow Dinner time,
Send him to answere thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withall:
And so let me entreat you, leaue the house
She. I will, my Lord: there are two Gentlemen
Haue in this Robberie lost three hundred Markes
Prince. It may be so: if he haue robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable: and so farewell
She. Good Night, my Noble Lord
Prince. I thinke it is good Morrow, is it not?
She. Indeede, my Lord, I thinke it be two a Clocke.
Enter.
Prince. This oyly Rascall is knowne as well as Poules:
goe call him forth
Peto. Falstaffe? fast asleepe behinde the Arras, and
snorting like a Horse
Prince. Harke, how hard he fetches breath: search his
Pockets.