By 'r lady, he's a good musician. Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical; for you are altogether governed by humors. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach,1 howl in Irish. Lady P. Wouldst thou have thy head broken? Lady P. Then be still. Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. Lady P. Now God help thee! Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed. Hot. Peace! she sings. A Welsh song sung by Lady Mortimer. Hot. Come, Kate, I 'll have your song too. Lady P. Not mine, in good sooth. Hot. Not yours, in good sooth! Heart, you swear like a comfit-maker's wife! Not you, in good sooth; and, As true as I live; and, As God shall mend me; and, As sure as day: And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, 1 Hound. In Moorfields, the common resort of the citizens. To velvet guards,1 and Sunday citizens. Lady P. I will not sing. Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; and so come in when ye will. [Exit. Glen. Come, come, lord Mortimer; you are as slow, As hot lord Percy is on fire to go. By this our book's drawn; we'll but seal, and then To horse immediately. Mor. With all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE II. London. A room in the palace. Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, and Lords. K. Hen. Lords, give us leave: the prince of Wales and I Must have some conference: but be near at hand, For we shall presently have need of you. [Exeunt Lords. I know not whether God will have it so, To cockneys, who adorn their clothes with shreds of yelvet. He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; Make me believe,—that thou art only mark'd Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, Such barren pleasures, rude society, As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to, And hold their level with thy princely heart? P. Hen. So please your majesty, I would, I could Quit all offences with as clear excuse, As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge As, in reproof of many tales devised, Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,— By smiling pickthanks 2 and base newsmongers, I may, for some things true, wherein my youth Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, Find pardon on my true submission. K. Hen. God pardon thee!-Yet let me wonder, At thy affections, which do hold a wing 1 Disproof. 2 Officious parasites. Which by thy younger brother is supplied; That men would tell their children, 'This is he;' broke? ' And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at; and so my state, To him who had then possession of the crown. The skipping king, he ambled up and down Had his great name profaned with their scorns; Grew a companion to the common streets; That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes, Afford no extraordinary gaze, Such as is bent on sunlike majesty When it shines seldom in admiring eyes : But rather drowsed, and hung their eyelids down ; Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full. 1 Bavin is brushwood. 2 Discarded. 4 Gave himself up. |