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, Skink, unto your tricks: 'Tis but a chance at hazard. There lies Gloster, And here stands Skink; now, John, play thou thy part, And if I 'scape I'll love thee with my heart. [_Puts on_ PRINCE JOHN'S _cloak, sword, and hat_. So, porter! let me forth. _Enter_ PORTER. POR. God bless your grace, spoke ye[483] with the Lord Morton? SKINK. I have, and must about his business to the Court. It grieves me to break my sport with Gloster: The melancholy earl is comfortless. POR. I would your grace would comfort him from hence, The Fleet is weary of his company. [REDCAP _knocks_. SKINK. Drink that, some knocks; I prythee, let me out, His head shall off ere long, never make doubt. [_Exeunt_. _Enter_ JOHN _at the other door_. JOHN. Now, madcap, thou winn'st all; where art thou, Robin? Uncased? nay, then, he means to play in earnest. But where's my cloak, my rapier, and my hat? I hold my birthright to a beggar's scrip, The bastard is escaped in my clothes. 'Tis well he left me his to walk the streets; I'll fire the city, but I'll find him out. Perchance he hides himself to try my spleen. I'll to his chamber. Gloster! hallo! Gloster! [_Exit_. _Enter_ REDCAP. POR. I wonder how thou cam'st so strangely chang'd! 'Tis not an hour since thou went'st from hence. RED. By my Ch-Ch-Christendom, I ha-have not b-been h-here this three nights; a p-p-plague of him, that made me such a ch-chanting, and s-sent me such a ja-ja-jaunt! blood, I was st-stayed for Skink, that ill-fa-fa-fac'd rogue. POR. I pray God there be no practice in this change. Now I remember these are Skink's clothes, That he wore last day at the Parl'ament. _Knock; Enter at another door_ JOHN _in_ GLOSTER'S _gown_. JOHN. Porter? you Porter? POR. Do you not hear them knock? you must stay, sir. JOHN. Blood, I could eat these rogues. RED. Wh-wh-what, raw? 'Tis a very harsh mo-morsel, Ne-next your he-heart. JOHN. A plague upon your jaunts! what, porter, slave? RED. I have been at G-Gravesend, sir. JOHN. What's that to me? RED. And at Ca-Ca-Canterbury. JOHN. And at the gallows! zounds, this frets my soul. RED. But I c-could not f-find your s-s-sister the La-Lady Fau-Fauconbridge. JOHN. You stammering slave, hence! chat among your daws. Come ye to mad me? while the rogue your father-- _Enter_ PORTER. RED. My f-fa-father?