Hen. No, not a word
Of thanks.
Hub. Not thanks! There's something else to say!
Hen. What, sir? Wouldst still play hang-lip at thy fortune?
Hub. Hear me, your majesty!
Hen. Nay, I will speak.
Sir, I have done what monarchs seldom do,
Proclaimed my general worthy of his hire,
And paid it, too, and these sour looks from you
Are as the poisonous leaves in a fair garland