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