Prin. As is the hony, my old Lad of the Castle: and is
not a Buffe Ierkin a most sweet robe of durance?
Fal. How now? how now mad Wagge? What in thy
quips and thy quiddities? What a plague haue I to doe
with a Buffe-Ierkin?
Prin. Why, what a poxe haue I to doe with my Hostesse
of the Tauerne?
Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reck'ning many a
time and oft

Prin. Did I euer call for thee to pay thy part?
Fal. No, Ile giue thee thy due, thou hast paid al there

Prin. Yea and elsewhere, so farre as my Coine would
stretch, and where it would not, I haue vs'd my credit

Fal. Yea, and so vs'd it, that were it heere apparant,
that thou art Heire apparant. But I prythee sweet Wag,
shall there be Gallowes standing in England when thou
art King? and resolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rustie
curbe of old Father Anticke the Law? Doe not thou
when thou art a King, hang a Theefe

Prin. No, thou shalt

Fal. Shall I? O rare! Ile be a braue Iudge

Prin. Thou iudgest false already. I meane, thou shalt
haue the hanging of the Theeues, and so become a rare
Hangman