And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars: Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; Cry, Courage!-to the field! And thou hast talk'd Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin; Of prisoners' ransome, and of soldiers slain, And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, And I must know it, else he loves me not. Hot. What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone? 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 not? Serv. It is, my lord. Hot. That roan shall be my throne. Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!— Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. Lady. But hear you, my lord. Lady. What is it carries you away? Hot. My love, my horse. Occurrences. [Exit Servant. What say'st, my lady? My horse, + Drops. Motto of the Percy family. Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape! In faith, I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, Away, you trifler!-Love?—I love thee not, Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate; Whither I go, thither shall you go too; To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.Will this content you, Kate? Lady. It must, of force. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Eastcheap. A room in the Boar's Head Tavern. Enter Prince Henry and Poins. P. Hen. Ned, pr'ythee, come out 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 Corinthiant, 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, they 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 * Three. +A wencher. name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now in 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 bustard 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. Poins. Francis ! 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 year, 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 to 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? Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I shall be * Tapster. Poins. [Within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, my lord, P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis: For the su gar thou gavest me,-'twas a pennyworth, was't not? Fran. O lord, sir! I would it had been two. P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. Poins. [Within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, anon. P. Hen. Auon, Francis? No, Francis: but tomorrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, in deed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,— Fran. My lord? P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leather-jerkin, crystalbutton, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch, Fran. O lord, sir, who do you mean? P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard* is your only drink: for, look you, Francis, your white canvass doublet will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. Fran. What, sir? Poins. [Within.] Francis! P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear them call? [Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go. Enter Vintner. Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit Fran.] My lord, old sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in? P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! A sweet wine. |