Glost. Make vp no factious numbers for the matter,
In thine owne person answere thy abuse
Card. I, where thou dar'st not peepe:
And if thou dar'st, this Euening,
On the East side of the Groue
King. How now, my Lords?
Card. Beleeue me, Cousin Gloster,
Had not your man put vp the Fowle so suddenly,
We had had more sport.
Come with thy two-hand Sword
Glost. True Vnckle, are ye aduis'd?
The East side of the Groue:
Cardinall, I am with you
King. Why how now, Vnckle Gloster?
Glost. Talking of Hawking; nothing else, my Lord.
Now by Gods Mother, Priest,
Ile shaue your Crowne for this,
Or all my Fence shall fayle
Card. Medice teipsum, Protector see to't well, protect
your selfe
King. The Windes grow high,
So doe your Stomacks, Lords:
How irkesome is this Musick to my heart?
When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony?
I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.
Enter one crying a Miracle
Glost. What meanes this noyse?
Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme?
One. A Miracle, a Miracle