Falst. How now Lad? is the Winde in that Doore?
Must we all march?
Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion
Hostesse. My Lord, I pray you heare me
Prince. What say'st thou, Mistresse Quickly? How does thy Husband? I loue him well, hee is an honest man
Hostesse. Good, my Lord, heare mee
Falst. Prethee let her alone, and list to mee
Prince. What say'st thou, Iacke?
Falst. The other Night I fell asleepe heere behind the
Arras, and had my Pocket pickt: this House is turn'd
Bawdy-house, they picke Pockets
Prince. What didst thou lose, Iacke?
Falst. Wilt thou beleeue me, Hal? Three or foure Bonds
of fortie pound apeece, and a Seale-Ring of my Grand-fathers
Prince. A Trifle, some eight-penny matter
Host. So I told him, my Lord; and I said, I heard your Grace say so: and (my Lord) hee speakes most vilely of you, like a foule-mouth'd man as hee is, and said, hee would cudgell you
Prince. What hee did not?
Host. There's neyther Faith, Truth, nor Woman-hood
in me else