An inn-yard.
Enter a Coachman in haste, in his frock, feeding.
Co. Here’s a stir when citizens ride out of town, indeed as if all the house were a-fire! ’Slight! they will not give a man leave to eat’s breakfast afore he rises.
Enter Hamlet, a footman, in haste.
Ha. What, coachman—my lady’s coach! for shame! her ladyship’s ready to come down.
Enter Potkin, a tankard-bearer.
Po. ’Sfoot! Hamlet, are you mad?[55] Whither run you now? you should brush up my old mistress!
Enter Sindefy.
Si. What, Potkin?—you must put off your tankard
and put on your blue coat,[56] and wait upon Mistress Touchstone into the country.