Kath. I have made ready a roasted chicken for you:
Enter Maid with chicken.
Sweet, wilt thou eat?
Frank. A pretty stomach on a sudden; yes.—
There’s one in the house can play upon a lute;
Good girl, let’s hear him too.
Kath. You shall, dear brother. [Exit Maid.
Would I were a musician, you should hear
How I would feast your ear! [Lute plays within]—stay mend your pillow,
And raise you higher.
Frank. I am up too high,
Am I not, sister now?
Kath. No, no; ’tis well.
Fall-to, fall-to.—A knife! here’s never a knife.
Brother, I’ll look out yours. [Takes up his vest.
Enter the Dog, shrugging as it were for joy, and dances.
Frank. Sister, O, sister,
I’m ill upon a sudden, and can eat nothing.
Kath. In very deed you shall: the want of food
Makes you so faint, Ha! [Sees the bloody knife]—here’s none in your pocket;
I’ll go fetch a knife. [Exit hastily.