speed, To save our heads by raising of a head; For, bear ourselves as even as we can, The king will always think him in our debt, And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, Till he hath found a time to pay us home: And see already how he doth begin To make us strangers to his looks of love. He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. Cousin, farewell: no further go in this Than I by letters shall direct your course. When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, Which now we hold at much uncertainty. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! Anon, anon. I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out of all cess. Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him. I think this be the most villanous house in all London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king christen could be better bit than I have been since the first cock. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach. What, ostler! come away and be hanged! I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An 'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! hast thou no faith in thee? Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? I think it be two o'clock. I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to