King. Good Ale will be acceptable at present, for I am very dry. But pray, how came your Son to leave you, and go to London?
Mil. Why, that's a Story which Dick, perhaps, won't like to have told.
King. Then I don't desire to hear it.
Enter Kate with an Earthen Pitcher of Ale, and a Horn.
Mil. So, now do you go help your Mother. Sir, my hearty Service to you.
King. Thank ye, Sir. This plain Sincerity and Freedom, is a Happiness unknown to Kings. [Aside.]
Mil. Come, Sir.
King. Richard, my Service to you.
Dick. Thank you, Sir.
Mil. Well, Dick, and how do'st thou like London? Come, tell us what thou hast seen.