JOHN. From Oxford am I drawn from serious studies,
Expecting that my brother still hath sojourn'd
With you, his best of choice, and this good knight.
HAR. His absence shall not make our hearts less merry,
Than if we had his presence. A day ere long
Will bring him back, when one the other meets,
At noon i'th' church, at night between the sheets.
We'll wash this chat with wine. Some wine! fill up;
The sharp'ner of the wit is a full cup.
And so to you, sir.
THOM. Do, and I'll drink to my new sister; but upon this condition, that she may have quiet days, little rest o' nights, have pleasant afternoons, be pliant to my brother, and lend me money, whensoe'er I'll borrow it.
HAR. Nay, nay, nay.
Women are weak, and we must bear with them:
Your frolic healths are only fit for men.
THOM. Well, I am contented; women must to the wall, though it be to a feather-bed. Fill up, then. [They drink.
Enter CLOWN.
CLOWN. From London am I come,
Though not with pipe and drum,
Yet I bring matter
In this poor paper
Will make my young mistress,
Delighting in kisses,
Do as all maidens will,
Hearing of such an ill,
As to have lost
The thing they wish'd most,
A husband, a husband,
A pretty sweet husband,
Cry O, O, O,
And alas, and at last
Ho, ho, ho,
As I do.
CLARE. Return'd so soon from London? what's the news?
CLOWN. O mistress, if ever you have seen Demoniseacleer, look into mine eyes: mine eyes are Severn, plain Severn; the Thames nor the river of Tweed are nothing to them: nay, all the rain that fell at Noah's flood had not the discretion that my eyes have: that drunk but up the whole world, and I have drowned all the way betwixt this and London.
CLARE. Thy news, good Robin.