moving such a dish of skimm'd milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the King: We are prepared: I will set forward to-night. Enter Lady PERCY. How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours. Lady. O my good Lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence have I, this fortnight, been Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents, Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain, Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, 3 Such as we see when men restrain their breath On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are these? Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, Enter Servant. Serv. He is, my Lord, an hour ago. Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? Serv. One horse, my Lord, he brought even now. Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it Serv. It is, my Lord. not? Hot. That roan shall be my throne. Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! Lady. But hear you, my Lord. Hot. What say'st, my Lady? [Exit Servant. Lady. What is it carries you away? My love, my horse. Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape! I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary love. Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me Directly to this question that I ask. In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, Away, you trifler!-Love? I love thee not, horse! What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou have with me? Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Well, do not then; for, since you love me not, And when I am o'horse-back, I will swear No lady closer; for I well believe, Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: Will this content you, Kate. Lady. It must, of force. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Head TaEnter Prince HENRY and Porns. vern. P. Hen. Ned, pr'ythee, come, ont of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh a little. Poins. Where hast been, Hal? P. Hen. With three or four loggerheads, amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have .sounded the very base string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their Christian names, as-Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that, though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff; but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, by the Lord, so they call me; and when I am King of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They call -drinking deep, dying scarlet: and when you breathe in your watering, thy cry-hem! and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned, to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'd even now into my, hand by an under-skinker; one that never spake other English in his life, than-Eight shillings and sixpence and You are welcome; with this shrill addition, Anon, anon, Sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-moon, or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I pr'ythee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer, to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling -Francis, that his tale to me may be nothing but-anon. Step aside, and I'll show thee a precedent. Poins. Francis! P. Hen. Thou art perfect. Enter Francis. [Exit POINS. Fran. Anon, anon, Sir. Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph. P. Hen. Come hither, Francis. Fran. My Lord. P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis? Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as toPoins. [Within.] Francis. Fran. Anon, anon, Sir. P. Hen. Five years! by'rlady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indenture; and show it a fair pair of heels, and run from it? Fran, O lord, Sir! I'll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heart Poins. Within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, anon, Sir. P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis? |