Exeunt. Enter Chamberlaine. Gad. What ho, Chamberlaine? Cham. At hand quoth Pick-purse Gad. That's euen as faire, as at hand quoth the Chamberlaine: For thou variest no more from picking of Purses, then giuing direction, doth from labouring. Thou lay'st the plot, how Cham. Good morrow Master Gads-Hill, it holds currant that I told you yesternight. There's a Franklin in the wilde of Kent, hath brought three hundred Markes with him in Gold: I heard him tell it to one of his company last night at Supper; a kinde of Auditor, one that hath abundance of charge too (God knowes what) they are vp already, and call for Egges and Butter. They will away presently Gad. Sirra, if they meete not with S[aint]. Nicholas Clarks, Ile giue thee this necke Cham. No, Ile none of it: I prythee keep that for the Hangman, for I know thou worshipst S[aint]. Nicholas as truly as a man of falshood may Gad. What talkest thou to me of the Hangman? If I hang, Ile make a fat payre of Gallowes. For, if I hang, old Sir Iohn hangs with mee, and thou know'st hee's no Starueling. Tut, there are other Troians that y dream'st not of, the which (for sport sake) are content to doe the Profession some grace; that would (if matters should bee look'd into) for their owne Credit sake, make all Whole. I am ioyned with no Foot-land-Rakers, No Long-staffe six-penny strikers, none of these mad Mustachio-purple-hu'd-Maltwormes, but with Nobility, and Tranquilitie; Bourgomasters, and great Oneyers, such as can holde in, such as will strike sooner then speake; and speake sooner then drinke, and drinke sooner then pray: and yet I lye, for they pray continually vnto their Saint the Commonwealth; or rather, not to pray to her, but prey on her: for they ride vp & downe on her, and make hir their Boots Cham. What, the Commonwealth their Bootes? Will she hold out water in foule way? Gad. She will, she will; Iustice hath liquor'd her. We steale as in a Castle, cocksure: we haue the receit of Fernseede, we walke inuisible Cham. Nay, I thinke rather, you are more beholding to the Night, then to the Fernseed, for your walking inuisible Gad. Giue me thy hand. Thou shalt haue a share in our purpose, As I am a true man Cham. Nay, rather let mee haue it, as you are a false Theefe Gad. Goe too: Homo is a common name to all men. Bid the Ostler bring the Gelding out of the stable. Farewell, ye muddy Knaue. Exeunt. Scaena Secunda. Enter Prince, Poynes, and Peto. Poines. Come shelter, shelter, I haue remoued Falstafs Horse, and he frets like a gum'd Veluet Prin. Stand close. Enter Falstaffe. Fal. Poines, Poines, and be hang'd Poines Prin. Peace ye fat-kidney'd Rascall, what a brawling dost thou keepe Fal. What Poines. Hal? Prin. He is walk'd vp to the top of the hill, Ile go seek him