Gads. Stand! Fal. So I do, against my will. Poins. [comes fortward] O, 'tis our setter. I know his voice. Bardolph, what news? Bar. Case ye, case ye! On with your vizards! There's money of the King's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the King's exchequer. Fal. You lie, ye rogue! 'Tis going to the King's tavern. Gads. There's enough to make us all. Fal. To be hang'd. Prince. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned Poins and I will walk lower. If they scape from your encounter, then they light on us. Peto. How many be there of them? Gads. Some eight or ten. Fal. Zounds, will they not rob us? Prince. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no coward, Hal. Prince. Well, we leave that to the proof. Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. When thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell and stand fast. Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd. Prince. [aside to Poins] Ned, where are our disguises? Poins. [aside to Prince] Here, hard by. Stand close. [Exeunt Prince and Poins.] Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I. Every man to his business. Enter the Travellers. Traveller. Come, neighbour. The boy shall lead our horses down the hill; We'll walk afoot awhile and ease our legs. Thieves. Stand! Traveller. Jesus bless us! Fal. Strike! down with them! cut the villains' throats! Ah, whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth. Down with them! fleece them! Traveller. O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs; I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye? We'll jure ye, faith! Here they rob and bind them. Exeunt. Enter the Prince and Poins [in buckram suits]. Prince. The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. Poins. Stand close! I hear them coming. [They stand aside.] Enter the Thieves again. Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins than in a wild duck. [As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them. They all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them.] Prince. Your money! Poins. Villains!