SKINK. The po-po-porter's son of the F-Fl-Fleet, going to Stepney about business to the La-La-Lady Fa-Fa-Fauconbridge.
CON. Well, bring him thither, some two or three of ye, honest neighbours, and so back to the Fleet; we'll show ourselves diligent above other officers.
SKINK. Wh-wh-why, le-le-let me run. I am Re-Redcap.
CON. Well, sure you shall now run no faster than I lead you, hear ye, neighbour Simmes, I leave my staff with ye; be vigilant, I pray you, search the suspicious houses at the town's end; this Skink's a trouncer. Come, will you be gone, sir?
SKINK. Yes, sir, and the devil go with you and them, Well, yet have hope, mad ha-heart; co-co-come your way.
BLO. Sweet nobility in reversion, Block, by the commission of his head, conjures you and withal binds you, by all the tricks that pages pass in time of Parliament, as swearing to the pantable,[469] crowning with custards, paper-whiffs to the sleepers' noses, cutting of tags, stealing of torches, _cum multis aliis_--tell, Block, what block you have cast in the way of my lady's content!
ROB. Block, by the antiquity of your ancestry, I have given your lady not so much as the least cause of dislike; if she be displeased at any news I bring, it's more than I must blab.
BLO. Zounds, these pages be so proud, they care not for an old servingman; you are a ward and so an earl, and no more: you disquiet our house--that's the most; and I may be even with thee--that's the least.
LADY F. What, Block, what, Block, I say! what do you there?
LADY F. Go, attend the gate; See if you can let in more grief thereat.
BLO. Zounds, and grief come in there; and I see Him once, I'll conjure his gaberdine. [_Aside_.
BLO. Hem! these women, these women! And she be not in love either with Prince Richard or this lad, let Block's head be made a chopping-block. [_Exit BLOCK_.
ROB. Fair madam, what reply you to my suit? The prince expects[470] smiles, welcomes, loving looks.
LADY F. The prince, if he give heed to Marian's suit, Must hear heart-sighs, see sorrow in my eyes, And find cold welcome to calamities.
ROB. Why, by mine honour, and Prince Richard saith, Your brother Gloster shall have liberty, Upon condition you release a prisoner, That you have long held in captivity.
