LADY F. Nay, then, you do me wrong with inquisition,
And yet I care not greatly if I tell thee.
Thou seest my husband full of jealousy:
Prince Richard in his suit importunate,
My brother Gloster threat'ned by young Henry,
To clear these doubts, I will in some disguise
Go to Blackheath, unto the holy hermit,
Whose wisdom, in foretelling things to come,
Will let me see the issue of my cares.
If destinies ordain me happiness,
I'll chase these mists of sorrow from my heart
With the bright sun of mirth; if fate agree
To't[490], and my friends must suffer misery,
Yet I'll be merry too, till mischief come.
Only I long to know the worst of ill.
ROB. I'll once put on a scarlet countenance.
LADY F. Be wary, lest ye be discovered, Robin.
ROB. Best paint me, then be sure I shall not blush.
Enter BLOCK bleeding, GLOSTER with him.
BLO. Beat an officer, Redcap? I'll have ye talk'd withal!
Beat Sir Richard's porter? help, madam, help!
GLO. Peace, you damned rogue.
LADY F. Brother, I pray you forbear.
GLO. Zwounds! an hundred's at my heels almost,
And yet the villain stands on compliment.
BLO. A bots on[491] you, is't you?