rouble them for half an hour,
To know what is become of traitor Gloster,
That in my clothes broke prison in the Fleet?

SKINK. No, it was Skink.

JOHN. Come, old fool, ye dote.

SKINK. But hear me.

FAU. Hear him, Prince.

JOHN. 'Swounds, who hears you?
I'll make your lady graft ye for this work.-- [_Aside_.]
--But to your tale, sir.

SKINK. Know, thrice-honoured Prince,
That Skink did cosen Redcap of his clothes,
Gloster did cosen Skink, and so escap'd.

JOHN. Well done, Fauconbridge!

FAU. My lord, he tells you true.

JOHN. You find it on her lips: but, forward, sir.

SKINK. 'Twas Skink in Gloster's gown, whom you did visit,
That play'd at bowls, and after stole your clothes,
While you went into the Lord Morton's chamber.

JOHN. This savours of some truth.

FAU. 'Tis very like.

JOHN. Well, Fauconbridge, by heaven, I'll tell your wife.

FAU. She'll much believe you! you will? Come,
Tell me not of my wife[507]: this evening fail me not.
My wife, quoth you: I'll send my wife from home.
Do tell my wife, Prince John, by my dear mother,
I love her too-too well to like another.

LADY F. It seems so, fox; O, what a world is this!
There most sin reigns, where least suspicion is.

FAU. You'll come?

LADY F. I will not fail, I warrant you.

JOHN. Hermit, is all this true?

SKINK. Himself,
[If he] deliver not so much, before ye sleep,
Root me from out the borders of this realm.

[JOHN _and_ FAUC. _retire a little_.

JOHN. Well, by your leave, Sir Richard Fauconbridge,
Hence, free from fear; you'll melt, you'll melt, old man.

FAU. Nay, take her to you; she's a shrew, I warrant.
I'll to the holy hermit, and inquire
About my chain, your sword, the pursuivant,
And other matters, that I have to ask.

[_He returns_; JOHN _addresses the_ LADY.

SKINK. You're welcome, good Sir Richard.

JOHN. Nay, do not stand on terms; I am fire, all life,
Nor never tell me, that I have a wife.
I do not mean to marry; ye think so!
But to be merry you the manner know.
And you will have me, have me--'ppoint a meeting;
I'll be your true love, you shall be my sweeting.
If you deny to promise, this is plain
I'll have my will, ere you get home again.

LADY F. Most gracious lord.

JOHN. Tut, tell not me of grace:
I like no goodness but a beauteous face.
Be therefore brief; give me your hand and swear,
Or I'll away with you into the heath:
Neither shall