burghers.
One wondrous civil gentleman proposed
To write his answer on your servant's tongue--
Using his sword as clerks might do a quill--
Then thrust it on an arrow for a post-boy!

_Edward_.--Such service he shall meet. What said their
governor?

_Percy_.--Marry! the old boy said I was no gentleman,
And bade me read my answer in the eyes
Of--Heaven defend me!--such a squalid crew!
One looked like death run from his winding sheet;
Another like an ague clothed in rags;
A third had something of the human form,
But every bone was cursing at its fellow.
Now, though I vow that I could read my fate
In every damsel's eyes that kissed a moonbeam,
I've yet to learn the meaning of the words
Wrote on the eyeballs of his vellum-spectres,
But the old man is henpecked!

_Edward_.--Prythee, Lord Percy, lay thy fool's tongue by,
And tell thy meaning plainly.

_Percy_.--Nay, pardon me, your majesty; I wot
Your servant is the fool his father made him,
And the most dutiful of all your subjects.

_Edward_.--We know it, Percy. But what of his wife?