JOHN. Where is this Gloster?
GLO. Y-y-yonder he walks. Fa-fa-father, l-let me out.
POR. Why, whither must you now?
GLO. To Je-Jericho, I th-think; 'tis such a h-h-humorous earl.
POR. Well, sir, will't please you hasten home again.
GLO. I-I-ll be h-here in a trice; b-but p-pray have a care of th-this madcap; if he g-give us the s-s-slip, s-s-some of us a-are like to m-make a sl-sl-slippery occupation on't.
[This while JOHN walks and stalks by SKINK [disguised as GLO'STER], never a word between them.
POR. Look to your business, sir; let me alone.
GLO. Alone; never trust me, if I trouble thee.
JOHN. Mad Gloster mute, all mirth turn'd to despair?
Why, now you see what 'tis to cross a king,
Deal against princes of the royal blood,
You'll snarl and rail, but now your tongue is bedrid,
Come, caperhay[481], set all at six and seven;
What, musest thou with thought of hell or heaven?