He
searcheth
his pockets and findeth certain papers.
Shakespeare
Good night, my noble lord.
Prince. I think it is good morrow, is it not?
Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
Exit [with Carrier].
Prince. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go call him
forth.
Peto. Falstaff! Fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a
horse.
Prince. Hark how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
He
searcheth
his pockets and findeth certain papers.
What hast thou found?
Peto. Nothing but papers, my lord.
Prince. Let's see whit they be. Read them.
