rowns, for crowns, that make the kingly thoughts!
[_Exit_.

LADY F. (_to the hermit supposed within_.)
I am assur'd that man's some murderer.
Good Father Hermit, speak and comfort me;
Are ye at prayers, good old man? I pray ye, speak.
[_Enters_.
What's here? a beard? a counterfeited hair?
The hermit's portesse,[511] garments, and his beads?
Jesus defend me! I will fly this den;
It's some thief's cave, no haunt for holy men.
What, if the murderer (as I guess him one)
Set on my husband! Tush, Prince John and he
Are able to defend their[512] noble selves.
Howe'er, I will not tarry, I'll away,
Lest unto theft and rape I prove a prey.
[_Exit_.

SCENE THE TWENTY-SIXTH.

_Enter_ SKINK _solus_.

SKINK. Yonder they are; I'll fit them; here's my ground.
Wa-ha-how, wa-ha-how, wa-ha-how!

_Enter_ FAUCONBRIDGE [_and_ JOHN.]

FAU. I warrant ye, my lord, some man's distress'd.

JOHN. Why, man, 'tis a falconer.

FAU, Marry of me, good fellow, I did think thou had'st been robb'd.

SKINK. Robb'd, sir? No, he that comes to rob me shall have a hard match
on't, yet two good fellows had like to have been robb'd by one tall
thief, had not I stepped in. A bots on him! I lost a hawk by him, and
yet I car'd not to send another after him, so I could find the thief;
and hereabout he is; I know he is squatted.

FAU. Say'st thou me so? we'll find him, by St Mary,
An honest fellow, a good commonwealth's man.

JOHN. There are caves hereabout, good fellow, are there not?

SKINK. Yes, sir; tread the ground, sir, and you shall hear their
hollowness; this way, sir, this way.

JOHN. Help, Fauconbridge.

FAU. O, help me, good Prince John.

SKINK. I'll help you both; deliver, sir, deliver! Swounds, linger not.
Prince John, put up your purse, or I'll throw poniards down upon your
pate. Quickly! when? I am Skink, that 'scap'd ye yesternight, and fled
the Fleet in your cloak, carrying me clean out of wind and rain. I broke
the bonds and links that fettered your chain amity; this cheat is mine.
Farewell, I cannot stay,
Sweet Prince, old Knight, I thank ye for this prey.
[_Exit_.

FAU. God's marry mother, here's a jest indeed.
We came to take: a thief takes us!
Where are ye, good my lord?

JOHN. No matter where;
I think I was fore-spoken at the teat,
This damn'd rogue serv'd me thus! G