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, S