Poin. Sirra Iacke, thy horse stands behinde the hedg,
when thou need'st him, there thou shalt finde him. Farewell,
and stand fast

Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd

Prin. Ned, where are our disguises?
Poin. Heere hard by: Stand close

Fal. Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
euery man to his businesse.
Enter Trauellers

Tra. Come Neighbor: the boy shall leade our Horses
downe the hill: Wee'l walke a-foot a while, and ease our
Legges

Theeues. Stay

Tra. Iesu blesse vs

Fal. Strike down with them, cut the villains throats;
a whorson Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaues, they hate vs
youth; downe with them, fleece them

Tra. O, we are vndone, both we and ours for euer

Fal. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No
ye Fat Chuffes, I would your store were heere. On Bacons,
on, what ye knaues? Yong men must liue, you are