I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. Lady P. Come, come, you paraquito,2 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; Lady P. Do you not love me? do you not, in deed? Well, do not then; for, since you love me not, Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride? I Strer gthen. 2 Little parrot. Puppets. Enter FRANCIS. Fran. Anon, anon, sir.-Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph. P. Hen. Come hither, Francis. Aas. My lord. P. Hen. How long hast thou to serve, Francis? Pram. Forsooth, five year, and as much as to— Poins. [within.] Francis. Par Anon, anon, sir. P. Hem. Five years! by 'r lady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou A so valiant, as to play the coward with thy indontum, and to show it a fair pair of heels, and run Pun 0 land sir! I'll be sworn upon all the basks in Pagland, I could find in my heart Prows. (vala. Francis! Dum. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. How old art thou, Francis? Fran. Let me see,-About Michaelmas next I shall be Poins. [within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, sir.-Pray you, stay a little, my lord. P. Hen. Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar 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. Puins. [within.] Francis! Fran. Anon, anon. P. Hen. Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but tomorrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis, Fran. My lord? P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, 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 canvas 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! standest thou still, and hearest 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! Re-enter POINS. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door. Shall we be merry? Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But, hark ye; what cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue? P. Hen. I am now of all humors, that have showed themselves humors, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. Re-enter FRANCIS with wine. What 's o'clock, Francis? Fran. Anon, anɔn, sir. P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is-up stairs, and down stairs his eloquence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.'-'O my sweet Harry,' says she, how many hast thou killed to-day? '—' Give my roan horse a drench,' says he; and answers, Some fourteen,' an hour after; a trifle, a trifle.' I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame -- |