GOVERNOUR.
My Lord, this jesting cannot serve your turn.
HODGE.
Doost think, thou black Bononian beast,
That I do flout, do gibe, or jest,
No, no, thou Beer-pot, know that I,
A noble Earl, a Lord pardie—
[A Trumpet sounds.]
GOVERNOUR.
What means this Trumpet’s sound?
[Enter a Messenger.]
CITIZEN.
One come from the States of Mantua.
GOVERNOUR.
What would you with us? speak, thou man of Mantua.
MESSENGER.
Men of Bononia, this my message is:
To let you know the Noble Earl of Bedford
Is safe within the town of Mantua,
And wills you send the peasant that you have,
Who hath deceived your expectation;
Or else the States of Mantua have vowed
They will recall the truce that they have made,
And not a man shall stir from forth your town,
That shall return, unless you send him back.
GOVERNOUR.
O this misfortune, how it mads my heart!
The Neopolitan hath beguiled us all.
Hence with this fool! what shall we do with him,
The Earl being gone? a plague upon it all.
HODGE.
No, I’ll assure you, I am no Earl, but a smith, sir;
One Hodge, a smith at Putney, sir;
One that hath gulled you, that hath bored you, sir.