A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VII (4th edition) - Various
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GLO. Walk like an earl, villain; some are coming.
SCENE THE THIRTEENTH.
_Enter PRINCE JOHN and PORTER_.
JOHN. Where is this Gloster?
GLO. Y-y-yonder he walks. Fa-fa-father, l-let me out.
POR. Why, whither must you now?
GLO. To Je-Jericho, I th-think; 'tis such a h-h-humorous earl.
POR. Well, sir, will't please you hasten home again.
GLO. I-I-ll be h-here in a trice; b-but p-pray have a care of th-this
madcap; if he g-give us the s-s-slip, s-s-some of us a-are like to
m-make a sl-sl-slippery occupation on't.
[_This while_ JOHN _walks and stalks by_ SKINK [_disguised as_
GLO'STER], _never a word between them_.
POR. Look to your business, sir; let me alone.
GLO. Alone; never trust me, if I trouble thee.
JOHN. Mad Gloster mute, all mirth turn'd to despair?
Why, now you see what 'tis to cross a king,
Deal against princes of the royal blood,
You'll snarl and rail, but now your tongue is bedrid,
Come, caperhay[481], set all at six and seven;
What, musest thou with thought of hell or heaven?
SKINK. Of neither, John; I muse at my disgrace,
That I am thus kept prisoner in this place.
JOHN. O, sir, a number are here prisoners:
My cousin Morton, whom I came to visit.
But he (good man) is at his morrow mass;
But I, that neither care to say nor sing,
Come to seek that preaching hate and prayer,
And while they mumble up their orisons,
We'll play a game at bowls. What say'st thou, Gloster?
SKINK. I care not, if I do.
JOHN. You do not care,
Let old men care for graves, we for our sports;
Off with your gown, there lies my hat and cloak,
The bowls there quickly, ho?
SKINK. No, my gown stirs not; it keeps sorrow warm,
And she and I am not to be divorced.
_Enter_ PORTER _with bowls_.
JOHN. Yes, there's an axe must part your head and you,
And with your head sorrow will leave your heart.
But come, shall I begin? a pound a game?
SKINK. More pounds, and we thus heavy? well, begin.
JOHN. Rub, rub, rub, rub.
SKINK. Amen, God send it short enough, and me
A safe running with these[482] clothes from thee.
JOHN. Play, Robin; run, run, run.
SKINK. Far enough and well: fly one foot more;
Would I were half so far without the door.
JOHN. Now, Porter, what's the news?
POR. Your cousin Morton humbly craves,
Leaving your game, you would come visit him.
JOHN. Bowl, Gloster; I'll come presently.
So near, mad Robin? then have after you.
[_Ex_. PORT.
SKINK. Would I were gone, make after as you may.
JOHN. Well, sir, 'tis yours, one all; throw but the jack,
While I go talk with Morton. I'll not stay,
Keep coat and hat in pawn, I'll hold out play.
[_Ex_. JOHN.
SKINK. I would be sorry, John, but you should stay,
Until my bias run another way.
Now pass and hey-pass, Skink, unto your tricks:
'Tis but a chance at hazard. There lies Gloster,
And here stands Skink; now, John, play thou thy part,
And if I 'scape I'll love thee with my heart.
[_Puts on_ PRINCE JOHN'S _cloak, sword, and hat_.
So, porter! let me forth.
_Enter_ PORTER.
POR. God bless your grace, spoke ye[483] with the Lord Morton?
SKINK. I have, and must about his business to the Court.
It grieves me to break my sport with Gloster:
The melancholy earl is comfortless.
POR. I would your grace would comfort him from hence,
The Fleet is weary of his company.
[REDCAP _knocks_.
SKINK. Drink that, some knocks; I prythee, let me out,
His head shall off ere long, never make doubt.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter_ JOHN _at the other door_.
JOHN. Now, madcap, thou winn'st all; where art thou, Robin?
Uncased? nay, then, he means to play in earnest.
But where's my cloak, my rapier, and my hat?
I hold my birthright to a beggar's scrip,
The bastard is escaped in my clothes.
'Tis well he left me his to walk the streets;
I'll fire the city, but I'll find him out.
Perchance he hides himself to try my spleen.
I'll to his chamber. Gloster! hallo! Gloster!
[_Exit_.
_Enter_ REDCAP.
POR. I wonder how thou cam'st so strangely chang'd!
'Tis not an hour since thou went'st from hence.
RED. By my Ch-Ch-Christendom, I ha-have not b-been h-here this three
nights; a p-p-plague of him, that made me such a ch-chanting, and
s-sent me such a ja-ja-jaunt! blood, I was st-stayed for Skink, that
ill-fa-fa-fac'd rogue.
POR. I pray God there be no practice in this change.
Now I remember these are Skink's clothes,
That he wore last day at the Parl'ament.
_Knock; Enter at another door_ JOHN _in_ GLOSTER'S _gown_.
JOHN. Porter? you Porter?
POR. Do you not hear them knock? you must stay, sir.
JOHN. Blood, I could eat these rogues.
RED. Wh-wh-what, raw?
'Tis a very harsh mo-morsel,
Ne-next your he-heart.
JOHN. A plague upon your jaunts! what, porter, slave?
RED. I have been at G-Gravesend, sir.
JOHN. What's that to me?
RED. And at Ca-Ca-Canterbury.
JOHN. And at the gallows! zounds, this frets my soul.
RED. But I c-could not f-find your s-s-sister the La-Lady
Fau-Fauconbridge.
JOHN. You stammering slave, hence! chat among your daws.
Come ye to mad me? while the rogue your father--
_Enter_ PORTER.
RED. My f-fa-father?
JOHN. Porter, you damned slave.
POR. Is't midsummer: do you begin to rave?
JOHN. Hark, how the traitor flouts me to my teeth!
I would entreat your knaveship, let me forth,
For fear I dash your brains out with the keys.
What is become of Gloster and my garments?
POR. Alas, in your apparel Gloster's gone,
I let him out even now; I am undone.
JOHN. It was your practice, and to keep me back,
You sent Jack Daw your son with ka-ka-ka,
To tell a sleeveless tale! lay hold on him,
To Newgate with him and your tut-a-tut!
Run, Redcap, and trudge about,
Or bid your father's portership farewell.
[_Exeunt with_ PORTER.
RED. Eh! here's a go-good je-je-jest, by the L-Lord, to mo-mock an ape
withal! my fa-fa-father has brought his ho-ho-hogs to a fa-fa-fair
m-m-market. Po-po-porter, quoth you? p-po-porter that will for me; and
I po-po-porter it, let them po-po-post me to heaven in this qua-quarter.
But I must s-s-seek this Gl-Gl-Gloster and Sk-Sk-Skink that
co-coney-catching ra-ra-rascal, a pa-pa-plague co-co-confound him.
Re-Re-Redcap must ru-run, he cannot tell whi-whither.
[_Exit_.
SCENE THE FOURTEENTH.
_Sound trumpets, enter_ HENRY _the younger, on one
hand of him_ QUEEN ELINOR, _on the other_ LEICESTER.
HEN. Mother and Leicester, add not oil to fire;
Wrath's kindled with a word, and cannot hear
The numberless persuasions you insort.
QUEEN. O, but, my son, thy father favours him.
Richard, that vile abortive changeling brat,
And Fauconbridge, are fallen at Henry's feet.
They woo for him, but entreat my son
Gloster may die for this, that he hath done.
LEI. If Gloster live, thou wilt be overthrown.
QUEEN. If Gloster live, thy mother dies in moan.
LEI. If Gloster live, Leicester will fly the realm.
QUEEN. If Gloster live, thy kingdom's but a dream.
HEN. Have I not sworn by that eternal arm,
That puts just vengeance' sword in monarchs' hands,
Gloster shall die for his presumption!
What needs more conjuration, gracious mother?
And, honourable Leicester, mark my words.
I have a bead-roll of some threescore lords
Of Gloster's faction.
QUEEN. Nay, of Henry's faction,
Of thy false father's faction; speak the truth,
He is the head of factions; were he down,
Peace, plenty, glory, will impale thy crown.
LEI. Ay, there's the _But_, whose heart-white if we hit,
The game is ours. Well, we may rage and rave[484]
At Gloster, Lancaster, Chester, Fauconbridge;
But his the upshot.
QUEEN. Yet begin with Gloster.
HEN. The destinies run to the Book of Fates,
And read in never-changing characters
Robert of Gloster's end; he dies to-day:
So fate, so heaven, so doth King Henry say.
QUEEN. Imperially resolv'd. [_Trumpets far off_.
LEI. The old King comes.
QUEEN. Then comes luxurious lust;
The King of concubines; the King that scorns
The undefiled, chaste, and nuptial bed;
The King that hath his queen imprisoned:
For my sake, scorn him; son, call him not father;
Give him the style of a competitor.
HEN. Pride, seize upon my heart: wrath, fill mine eyes!
Sit, lawful majesty, upon my front,
Duty, fly from me; pity, be exil'd:
Senses, forget that I am Henry's child.
QUEEN. I kiss thee, and I bless thee for this thought.
SCENE THE FIFTEENTH.
_Enter_ KING, LANCASTER, RICHARD, FAUCONBRIDGE.
KING. O Lancaster, bid Henry yield some reason,
Why he desires so much the death of Gloster.
HEN. I hear thee, Henry, and I thus reply:
I do desire the death of bastard Gloster,
For that he spends the Treasure of the Crown;
I do desire the death of bastard Gloster,
For that he doth desire to pull me down.
Or were this false (I purpose to be plain),
He loves thee, and for that I him disdain.
HEN. Therein thou shewest a hate-corrupted mind;
To him the more unjust, to me unkind.
QUEEN. He loves you, as his father lov'd his mother.
KING. Fie, fie upon thee, hateful Elinor;
I thought thou hadst been long since scarlet-dyed.
HEN. She is, and therefore cannot change her colour.
RICH. You are too strict; Earl Gloster's fault
Merits not death.
FAU. By the rood, the Prince says true;
Here is a statute from the Confessor[485].
HEN. The Confessor was but a simple fool.
Away with books; my word shall be a law,
Gloster shall die.
LEI. Let Gloster die the death.
LAN. Leicester, he shall not;
He shall have law, despite of him and thee.
HEN. What law? will you be traitors? what's the law?
RICH. His right hand's loss; and that is such a loss,
As England may lament, all Christians weep.
That hand hath been advanc'd against the Moors,
Driven out the Saracens from Gad's[486] and Sicily,
Fought fifteen battles under Christ's red cross;
And is it not, think you, a grievous loss,
That for a slave (and for no other harm)
It should be sundred from his princely arm?
FAU. More for example, noble Lancaster;
But 'tis great pity too--too great a pity.
HEN. I'll have his hand and head.
RICH. Thou shalt have mine, then.
QUEEN. Well said, stubborn Dick, Jack would not
Serve me so, were the boy here.
RICH. Both John and I have serv'd your will too long;
Mother, repent your cruelty and wrong:
Gloster, you know, is full of mirth and glee,
And never else did your grace injury.
QUEEN. Gloster shall die.
HEN. Fetch him here, I'll see him dead.
RICH. He that stirs for him shall lay down his head.
FAU. O quiet, good my lords; patience, I pray,
I think he comes unsent for, by my fay.
_Enter_ JOHN _in_ GLOSTER'S _gown_.
RICH. What mean'st thou, Gloster?
HEN. Who brought Gloster hither?
JOHN. Let Gloster hang and them that ... [487]
There lies his case[488], a mischief on his carcase!
[_Throws off_ GLOSTER'S _gown_.
QUEEN. My dear son Jack!
JOHN. Your dear son Jack-an-apes;
Your monkey, your baboon, your ass, your gull!
LEI. What ails Earl John?
JOHN. Hence, further from my sight!
My fiery thoughts and wrath have work in hand;
I'll curse ye blacker than th'Avernian[489] Lake,
If you stand wond'ring at my sorrow thus.
I am with child, big, hugely swoll'n with rage,
Who'll play the midwife, and my throbs assuage?
KING. I will, my son.
HEN. I will, high-hearted brother.
JOHN. You will? and you? tut, tut, all you are nothing!
'Twill out, 'twill out, myself myself can ease:
You chafe, you swell: ye are commanding King.
My father is your footstool, when ye please.
Your word's a law; these lords dare never speak.
Gloster must die; your enemies must fall!
HEN. What means our brother?
JOHN. He means that thou art mad:
She frantic: Leicester foolish: I the babe--
Thou grind us, bite us, vex us, charge and discharge.
Gloster, O Gloster!
QUEEN. Where is Gloster, son?
HEN. Where is Gloster, brother?
KING. I hope he be escaped.
JOHN. O, I could tear my hair, and, falling thus
Upon the solid earth,
Dig into Gloster's grave,
So he were dead, and gone into the depth
Of under-world--
Or get sedition's hundreth thousand hand,
And, like Briareus, battle with the stars,
To pull him down from heaven, if he were there!
FAU. Look to Earl John; the gentleman is mad.
JOHN. O, who would not be mad at this disgrace?
Gloster the fox is fled; there lies his case.
[_Points to the gown_.
He cozen'd me of mine; the porter helped him.
HEN. The porter shall be hang'd; let's part and seek him:
Gloster shall die; all Europe shall not save him.
JOHN. He is wise, too wise for us; yet I'll go with you
To get more fools into my company.
QUEEN. This is your father's plot; revenge it, son.
HEN. Father, by heaven, if this were your advice,
Your head or heart shall pay the bitter price.
Come, mother, brother, Leicester; let's away.
JOHN. Ay, I'll be one, in hope to meet the bastard,
And then no more: myself will be his headsman.
[_Exeunt_.
KING. Richard and Fauconbridge, follow the search;
You may prevent mischance by meeting Gloster.
If ye find Skink, see that you apprehend him.
I hear there is a wizard at Blackheath;
Let some inquire of him, where Skink remains.
Although I trust not to those fallacies,
Yet now and then such men prove soothsayers.
Will you be gone?
FAU. With all my heart, with all my heart, my lord.
Come, princely Richard, we are ever yok'd.
Pray God, there be no mystery in this.
RICH. Be not suspicious, where there is no cause.
FAU. Nay, nothing, nothing; I am but in jest.
[_Exeunt_.
KING. Call in a pursuivant.
LAN. Here's one, my liege.
_Enter_ PURSUIVANT.
KING. There is a porter likely to be hang'd
For letting Gloster 'scape; sirrah, attend.
You shall have a reprieve to bring him us.
These boys are too-too stubborn, Lancaster;
But 'tis their mother's fault. If thus she move me,
I'll have her head, though all the world reprove me.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE THE SIXTEENTH.
_Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ LADY FAUCONBRIDGE.
LADY F. Do not deny me, gentle Huntington.
ROB. My lord will miss me.
LADY F. Tut, let me excuse thee.
ROB. Turn, woman? O, it is intolerable!
Except you promise me to play the page.
Do that, try one night, and you'll laugh for ever
To hear the orisons that lovers use:
Their ceremonies, sighs, their idle oaths!
To hear how you are prais'd and pray'd unto.
For you are Richard's saint. They talk of Mary
The blessed Virgin; but upon his beads
He only prays to Marian Fauconbridge.
LADY F. The more his error; but will you agree
To be the Lady Fauconbridge one day?
ROB. When is't?
LADY. F. On Monday.
ROB. Wherefore is't?
LADY F. Nay, then, you do me wrong with inquisition,
And yet I care not greatly if I tell thee.
Thou seest my husband full of jealousy:
Prince Richard in his suit importunate,
My brother Gloster threat'ned by young Henry,
To clear these doubts, I will in some disguise
Go to Blackheath, unto the holy hermit,
Whose wisdom, in foretelling things to come,
Will let me see the issue of my cares.
If destinies ordain me happiness,
I'll chase these mists of sorrow from my heart
With the bright sun of mirth; if fate agree
To't[490], and my friends must suffer misery,
Yet I'll be merry too, till mischief come.
Only I long to know the worst of ill.
ROB. I'll once put on a scarlet countenance.
LADY F. Be wary, lest ye be discovered, Robin.
ROB. Best paint me, then be sure I shall not blush.
_Enter_ BLOCK _bleeding_, GLOSTER _with him_.
BLO. Beat an officer, Redcap? I'll have ye talk'd withal!
Beat Sir Richard's porter? help, madam, help!
GLO. Peace, you damned rogue.
LADY F. Brother, I pray you forbear.
GLO. Zwounds! an hundred's at my heels almost,
And yet the villain stands on compliment.
BLO. A bots on[491] you, is't you?
GLO. Will you to the door, you fool, and bar the gate?
Hold, there's an angel for your broken pate:
If any knock, let them not in in haste.
BLO. Well, I will do, as I see cause;
Blood, thou art dear to me.
But here's a sovereign plaister for the sore:
Gold healeth wounds, gold easeth hearts!
What can a man have more? [_Exit_.
LADY F. Dear brother, tell us how you made escape?
GLO. You see I am here, but if you would know how,
I cannot 'scape, and tell the manner too,
By this I know your house is compassed
With hell-hound search[492].
LADY F. Brother, I'll furnish you with beard and hair,
And garment like my husband's.
How like you that?
GLO. Well, when I have them:
Quickly, then, dispatch. [_Exit_ LADY.] S'blood! turn
Grey beard and hair.
Robin, conceal; this dieteth my mind.
Mirth is the object of my humorous spleen.
Thou high, commanding fury, further device!
Jests are conceited. I long to see their birth.
_Re-enter_ LADY FAUCONBRIDGE.
What, come ye, sister? Robin, a thief's hand!
But, prythee, where hadst thou this beard and hair?
LADY F. Prince Richard wore them hither in a masque.
GLO. Say'st thou me so? faith, [I] love the princely youth;
Tut, you must taste stolen pleasure now and then.
ROB. But if she steal, and jealous eyes espy,
She will be sure condemn'd of burglary.
GLO. Ha! crake! can your low stumps venture so deep
Into affection's stream? go to, you wanton!
What want we now? my nightcap! O, 'tis here.
So now no Gloster, but old Fauconbridge.
Hark, the search knocks; I'll let them in myself:
Welcome, good fellows; ha! what is't you lack?
_Enter REDCAP, with two others_[493].
RED. Ma-master Co-Constable, se-se-search you th-that way; a-and, you
ho-honest man, th-that way. I'll ru-run th-this way m-my own se-self.
[_They disperse themselves_.
GLO. What search you for? what is it you would have?
_Enter_ BLOCK.
BLO. Madam, what shall I do to these brown-bill fellows? some run into
the wine cellar; some here, some there.
GLO. Let them alone; let them search their fills.
BLO. I'll look to their fingers for all that.
GLO. Do so, good Block; be careful, honest Block.
BLO. Sir stammerer and your wa-watch, y'are pa-past, i'faith.
[_Exit_.
GLO, Will you not speak, knaves? tell me who you seek.
RED. Ma-marry, sir, we s-seek a va-va-vacabond, a fu-fugative, my
la-lady's own b-brother; but, and he were the po-po-pope's own b-brother,
I would s-search f-f-for him; for I have a p-poor father r-ready to be
ha-ha-hang'd f-f-for him.
GLO. O, 'tis for Gloster? marry, search, a' God's name,
Seek, peace[494]; will he break prison too?
It's a pity he should live; nay, I defy him.
Come, look about, search every little corner,
Myself will lead the way; pray you, come.
Seek, seek, and spare not, though it be labour lost:
He comes not under my roof; hear ye, wife?
He comes not hither, take it for a warning.
RED. You sp-sp-speak like an honest ge-ge-gentleman, re-re-rest you
me-me-merry! co-co-come, my f-f-friends, I be-believe h-h-he r-ran by
the g-g-garden w-wall toward the wa-water side.
[_Exeunt running_.
GLO. This fellow is of the humour I would choose my wife:
Few words and many paces; a word and away; and so
Must I. Sister, adieu; pray you for me; I'll do the like for you.
Robin, farewell; commend me to the Prince.
LADY F. Can ye not stay here safe?
GLO. No, I'll not trust the changing humours of old Fauconbridge.
Adieu, young earl; sister, let's kiss and part.
Tush, never mourn, I have a merry heart.
[_Exit_.
LADY F. Farewell all comfort.
ROB. What, weeping, lady?
Then I perceive you have forgot Blackheath!
LADY F. No, there I'll learn both of his life and death.
ROB. Till Monday, madam, I must take my leave.
LADY F. You will not miss then?
ROB. Nay, if Robin fail ye,
Let him have never favour of fair lady!
LADY F. Meanwhile, I'll spend my time in prayers and tears,
That Gloster may escape these threat'ned fears.
[_Exit_
SCENE THE SEVENTEENTH.
_Enter_ SKINK, _like_ PRINCE[495] JOHN.
SKINK. Thus jets my noble Skink along the streets,
To whom each bonnet vails, and all knees bend;
And yet my noble humour is too light
By the six shillings. Here are two crack'd groats
To helter-skelter at some vaulting-house[496].
But who comes yonder? ha! old Fauconbridge?
Hath a brave chain; were John and he good friends,
That chain were mine, and should unto Blackheath.
I'll venture; it's but trial: luck may fall.
Good morrow, good Sir Richard Fauconbridge.
FAU. Good morrow, my sweet Prince, hearty good morrow;
This greeting well becomes us, marry does it,
Better, i'wis, than strife and jangling.
Now can I love ye; will ye to the sheriffs?
Your brother Richard hath been there this hour.
SKINK. Yes, I am plodding forward, as you do;
What cost your chain? it's passing strongly wrought,
I would my goldsmith had a pattern of it.
FAU. 'Tis at your grace's service: show it him.
SKINK. Then dare ye trust me?
FAU. Who? the princely John!
My sovereign's son: why, what a question's that.
I'll leave you; ye may know I dare trust you.
SKINK. I'll bring it ye to the sheriff's, excuse my absence.
FAU. I will, my noble lord; adieu, sweet prince.
[_Exit_.
SKINK. Why so; this breakfast was well fed upon.
When Skink's devices on Blackheath do fail,
This and such cheats would set me under sail,
I'll to the water-side, would it were later [on];
For still I am afraid to meet Prince John.
SCENE THE EIGHTEENTH.
_Enter_ GLOSTER _like_ FAUCONBRIDGE.
[SKINK.] But what a mischief meant Fauconbridge
To come again so soon? that way he went,
And now comes peaking. Upon my life,
The buzzard hath me in suspicion,
But whatsoever chance, I'll filch a share.
GLO. Yonder's Prince John; I hope he cannot know me,
There's nought but Gloster, Gloster in their mouths;
I am half-strangled with the garlic-breath
Of rascals that exclaim, as I pass by,
Gloster is fled; once taken, he must die.
But I'll to John--how does my gracious lord?
What babbles rumour now? What news of Gloster?
SKINK. What news could I hear, since you left me last?
Were you not here even now? lent me your chain?
I think you dote.
GLO. Sweet prince, age aye[497] forgets.
My brother's chain? a pretty accident!
But I'll have't, and be in the spite of John. [_Aside_.
SKINK. There's more and more; I'll geld it, ere it go.
[_He breaks the chain_.
This same shall keep me in some tavern merry,
Till night's black hand curtain this too clear sky.
GLO.[498] My sweet prince, I have some cause to use my chain;
Another time (whene'er your lordship please)
'Tis at your service, O marry God, it is.
SKINK. Here, palsy, take your chain; stoop and be hang'd,
[_Casts it down_.
Yet the fish nibbled, when she might not swallow:
Go'ut[499] I have curtail'd, what I could not borrow.
[_Exit_.
GLO. He's gone away in frets; would he might meet
My brother Fauconbridge in this mad mood,
There would be rare ado. Why, this fits me;
My brain flows with fresh wit and policy.
But, Gloster, look about, who have we yonder?
Another John, Prince Richard, and the sheriff?
Upon my life, the slave, that had the chain,
Was Skink, escap'd the Fleet by some mad sleight.
Well, farewell he, better and better still,
These seek for me; yet I will have my will.
SCENE THE NINETEENTH.
_Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, PRINCE RICHARD, _and the_ SHERIFF.
JOHN. Sheriff, in any case be diligent.
Who's yonder? Fauconbridge?
GLO. How now, sweet chuck; how fares my lovely prince?
JOHN. What carest thou? or well or ill, we crave
No help of thee.
GLO. God's mother, do ye scorn me?
JOHN. Go'ut! what then?
RICH. Fie, leave these idle brawls, I prythee, John;
Let's follow that we are enjoin'd unto.
GLO. Ay, marry, prince, if now you slip the time,
Gloster will slip away; but, though he hate me,
I have done service; I have found him out.
RICH. A shame confound thee for thy treachery,
Inconstant dotard, timorous old ass,
That shakes with cowardice, not with years.
GLO. Go, I have found him, I have winded him.
JOHN. O, let me hug thee, gentle Fauconbridge;
Forgive my oft ill-using of thine age.
I'll call thee father; I'll be penitent;
Bring me where Gloster is; I'll be thy slave,
All that is mine thou in reward shalt have.
GLO. Soft; not too hasty; I would not be seen in't;
Marry a' God, my wife would chide me dead,
If Gloster by my means should lose his head.
Princely Richard, at this corner make your stand:
And for I know you love my sister well,
Know I am Gloster, and not Fauconbridge.
RICH. Heaven prosper thee, sweet prince, in thy escape!
GLO. Sheriff, make this your quarter, make good guard;
John, stay you here; this way he means to turn,
By Thomas, I lack a sword, body a' me!