Shakespeare's First Folio - Part 291
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Part 291

And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?

Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheekes?

And giuen my Treasures and my rights of thee, To thicke-ey'd musing, and curst melancholly?

In my faint-slumbers, I by thee haue watcht, And heard thee murmore tales of Iron Warres: Speake tearmes of manage to thy bounding Steed, Cry courage to the field. And thou hast talk'd Of Sallies, and Retires; Trenches, Tents, Of Palizadoes, Frontiers, Parapets, Of Basiliskes, of Canon, Culuerin, Of Prisoners ransome, and of Souldiers slaine, And all the current of a headdy fight.

Thy spirit within thee hath beene so at Warre, And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleepe, That beds of sweate hath stood vpon thy Brow, Like bubbles in a late-disturbed Streame; And in thy face strange motions haue appear'd, Such as we see when men restraine their breath On some great sodaine hast. O what portents are these?

Some heauie businesse hath my Lord in hand, And I must know it: else he loues me not

Hot. What ho; Is Gilliams with the Packet gone?

Ser. He is my Lord, an houre agone

Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses fro[m] the Sheriffe?

Ser. One horse, my Lord, he brought euen now

Hot. What Horse? A Roane, a crop eare, is it not

Ser. It is my Lord

Hot. That Roane shall be my Throne. Well, I will backe him straight. Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth into the Parke

La. But heare you, my lord

Hot. What say'st thou my Lady?

La. What is it carries you away?

Hot. Why, my horse (my Loue) my horse

La. Out you mad-headed Ape, a Weazell hath not such a deale of Spleene, as you are tost with. In sooth Ile know your businesse Harry, that I will. I feare my Brother Mortimer doth stirre about his t.i.tle, and hath sent for you to line his enterprize. But if you go- Hot. So farre a foot, I shall be weary, Loue

La. Come, come, you Paraquito, answer me directly vnto this question, that I shall aske. Indeede Ile breake thy little finger Harry, if thou wilt not tel me true

Hot. Away, away you trifler: Loue, I loue thee not, I care not for thee Kate: this is no world To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips.

We must haue bloodie Noses, and crack'd Crownes, And pa.s.se them currant too. G.o.ds me, my horse.

What say'st thou Kate? what wold'st thou haue with me?

La. Do ye not loue me? Do ye not indeed?

Well, do not then. For since you loue me not, I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me?

Nay, tell me if thou speak'st in iest, or no

Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?

And when I am a horsebacke, I will sweare I loue thee infinitely. But hearke you Kate, I must not haue you henceforth, question me, Whether I go: nor reason whereabout.

Whether I must, I must: and to conclude, This Euening must I leaue thee, gentle Kate.

I know you wise, but yet no further wise Then Harry Percies wife. Constant you are, But yet a woman: and for secrecie, No Lady closer. For I will beleeue Thou wilt not vtter what thou do'st not know, And so farre wilt I trust thee, gentle Kate

La. How so farre?

Hot. Not an inch further. But harke you Kate, Whither I go, thither shall you go too: To day will I set forth, to morrow you.

Will this content you Kate?

La. It must of force.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Prince and Poines.

Prin. Ned, prethee come out of that fat roome, & lend me thy hand to laugh a little

Poines. Where hast bene Hall?

Prin. With three or foure Logger-heads, amongst 3.

or fourescore Hogsheads. I haue sounded the verie base string of humility. Sirra, I am sworn brother to a leash of Drawers, and can call them by their names, as Tom, d.i.c.ke, and Francis. They take it already vpon their confidence, that though I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the King of Curtesie: telling me flatly I am no proud Iack like Falstaffe, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, and when I am King of England, I shall command al the good Laddes in East-cheape. They call drinking deepe, dying Scarlet; and when you breath in your watering, then they cry hem, and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an houre, that I can drinke with any Tinker in his owne Language during my life. I tell thee Ned, thou hast lost much honor, that thou wer't not with me in this action: but sweet Ned, to sweeten which name of Ned, I giue thee this peniworth of Sugar, clapt euen now into my hand by an vnder Skinker, one that neuer spake other English in his life, then Eight shillings and six pence, and, You are welcome: with this shril addition, Anon, Anon sir, Score a Pint of b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the Halfe Moone, or so. But Ned, to driue away time till Falstaffe come, I prythee doe thou stand in some by-roome, while I question my puny Drawer, to what end hee gaue me the Sugar, and do neuer leaue calling Francis, that his Tale to me may be nothing but, Anon: step aside, and Ile shew thee a President

Poines. Francis

Prin. Thou art perfect

Poin. Francis.

Enter Drawer.

Fran. Anon, anon sir; looke downe into the Pomgarnet, Ralfe

Prince. Come hither Francis

Fran. My Lord

Prin. How long hast thou to serue, Francis?

Fran. Forsooth fiue yeares, and as much as to- Poin. Francis

Fran. Anon, anon sir

Prin. Fiue yeares: Berlady a long Lease for the clinking of Pewter. But Francis, darest thou be so valiant, as to play the coward with thy Indenture, & show it a faire paire of heeles, and run from it?

Fran. O Lord sir, Ile be sworne vpon all the Books in England, I could finde in my heart

Poin. Francis

Fran. Anon, anon sir

Prin. How old art thou, Francis?

Fran. Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shalbe- Poin. Francis

Fran. Anon sir, pray you stay a little, my Lord

Prin. Nay but harke you Francis, for the Sugar thou gauest me, 'twas a penyworth, was't not?

Fran. O Lord sir, I would it had bene two

Prin. I will giue thee for it a thousand pound: Aske me when thou wilt, and thou shalt haue it

Poin. Francis

Fran. Anon, anon

Prin. Anon Francis? No Francis, but to morrow Francis: or Francis, on thursday: or indeed Francis when thou wilt. But Francis

Fran. My Lord