GLO. What countryman, I prythee?
PUR. Barkshire, and please ye.
GLO. How long hast thou been sworn a messenger?
PUR. But yesterday, and please your worship,
This is the first employment I have had.
Enter DRAWER, with wine and sugar.
GLO. A good beginning; here, have to thee, fellow;
Thou art my fellow, now thou servest the king,
Nay, take sugar too, God's Lady dear!
I put it in my pocket; but it's here:
Drink a good draught, I prythee, Winterborne.
[He drinks and falls over the stool.
DRA. O Lord, Sir Richard, the man, the man!
GLO. What a forgetful beast am I! Peace, boy,
It is his fashion ever, when he drinks.
Fellow, he hath the falling sickness;
Run, fetch two cushions to raise up his head,
And bring a little key to ope his teeth. [Exit DRAWER.
Pursuivant, your warrant and your box—
These must with me; the shape of Fauconbridge
Will hold no longer water hereabout.
Gloster will be a Proteus every hour,
That Elinor and Leicester, Henry, John,
And all that rabble of hate-loving curs,
May minister me more mirth to play upon.
Re-enter DRAWER, with an ASSISTANT.