FRANCIS.
Forsooth, five years, and as much as to—
POINS.
[within.] Francis!
FRANCIS.
Anon, anon, sir.
PRINCE.
Five year! By’r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of pewter! But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture, and show it a fair pair of heels, and run from it?
FRANCIS.
O Lord, sir, I’ll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find in my heart—
POINS.
[within.] Francis!
FRANCIS.
Anon, sir.
PRINCE.
How old art thou, Francis?
FRANCIS.
Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shall be—
POINS.
[within.] Francis!