_Lady._ O, my good Lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence have I this fortnight been 35 A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? Tell me, sweet lord, what is 't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,[2344] And start so often when thou sit'st alone? 40 Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; And given my treasures and my rights of thee To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,[2345] And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;[2346] 45 Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,[2347] Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,[2348] Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, 50 Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,[2349] And all the currents of a heady fight.[2350] Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war[2351] And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,[2352] That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,[2353] 55 Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;[2354] And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, Such as we see when men restrain their breath On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?[2355] Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, 60 And I must know it, else he loves me not. _Hot._ What, ho! _Enter_ Servant.[2356] Is Gilliams with the packet gone? _Serv._ He is, my lord, an hour ago.[2357] _Hot._ Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?[2358] _Serv._ One horse, my lord, he brought even now.[2359] 65 _Hot._ What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?[2360][2361] _Serv._ It is, my lord.[2361] _Hot._ That roan shall be my throne.[2362] Well, I will back him straight: O esperance![2362][2363] Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.[2362][2364] [_Exit Servant._ _Lady._ But hear you, my lord. 70 _Hot._ What say'st thou, my lady? _Lady._ What is it carries you away? _Hot._ Why, my horse, my love, my horse.[2365] _Lady._ Out, you mad-headed ape![2366] A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen[2366] 75 As you are toss'd with. In faith,[2366][2367] I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.[2366] I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir[2366] About his title, and hath sent for you[2366] To line his enterprize: but if you go,--[2366] 80 _Hot._ So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.