 | Babington |  |
SCENE II.
—A Gallery.Enter Plasket and Gardevin, meeting.
PLASKET.
Whither so fast, Master Gardevin?
GARDEVIN.
Why, to seek thee and thy betters.
PLASKET.
Thou hast seized the forelock of thine errand.—The
latter, peradventure, will be further to seek.—Good journey
to thee.
GARDEVIN.
Thou art a mad wag, Master Plasket. Hast thou seen
aught of the Lady Agnes?
PLASKET.
I cross'd her even now, i' the Corridor. Seek'st thou
her, too?
Marry do I; she is to go forthwith to her Lady Mother,
as she calls her. Sweet young spriglet!—Know'st
thou my lord sets forth to-night?
PLASKET.
What, Babington?
GARDEVIN.
Ay, and the rest. But I must to my young lady, and
then go and brew the stirrup-cup—of all cups, the cup I
like the worst, Master Plasket, and yet 'tis good, too.
PLASKET.
When thou brew'st it!—As how? Thou makest it so
strong, the guest getteth not away at all! Goes Master
Boone in their company?
GARDEVIN.
Ay, marry, doth he.
PLASKET.
Then, hark thee, Master Gardevin; thou mayest shew
the top of thy craft in cup-making. This were the very
nick for thee.
GARDEVIN.
Ay, say'st thou?—as how, Master Plasket?
Why, make Master Boone's just potent enough to break
his neck by the way.
GARDEVIN.
Aha! thou art a wicked wag.—Well, Heaven mend
thee, ere thou break'st thine own neck. I must away to
my young lady.
PLASKET.
And I to mine old lady.—God be wi' ye.
[They go out.
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