Sor. She is coming in.
Fred. Thy eyes shoot through the door,
They are so piercing, that the beams they dart
Give new light to the room.
Enter Podramo and Evanthe.
Evan. Whither dost thou go?
This is the Kings side, and his private lodgings,
What business have I here?
Pod. My Lord sent for ye.
Evan. His lodgings are below, you are mistaken,
We left them at the stair-foot.
Pod. Good sweet Madam.
Evan. I am no Counsellor, nor important Sutor,
Nor have no private business through these Chambers,
To seek him this way, o' my life thou art drunk,
Or worse than drunk, hir'd to convey me hither
To some base end; now I look on thee better,
Thou hast a bawdy face, and I abhor thee,
A beastly bawdy face, I'le go no further.
Sor. Nay shrink not back, indeed you shall good Sister,
Why do you blush? the good King will not hurt ye,
He honours ye, and loves ye.