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Enter the E ARL OF L INCOLN and D ODGER 1
LINCOLN. How now, good Dodger, what’s the news in France? | |
| DODGER. My lord, upon the eighteenth day of May | |
| The French and English were prepar’d to fight; | |
| Each side with eager fury gave the sign | 4 |
| Of a most hot encounter. Five long hours | |
| Both armies fought together; at the length | |
| The lot of victory fell on our side. | |
| Twelve thousand of the Frenchmen that day died, | 8 |
| Four thousand English, and no man of name | |
| But Captain Hyam and young Ardington, | |
| Two gallant gentlemen, I knew them well. | |
| LINCOLN. But Dodger, prithee, tell me, in this fight | 12 |
| How did my cousin Lacy bear himself? | |
| DODGER. My lord, your cousin Lacy was not there. | |
| LINCOLN. Not there? | |
| DODGER. No, my good lord. | 16 |
| LINCOLN. Sure, thou mistakest. | |
| I saw him shipp’d, and a thousand eyes beside | |
| Were witnesses of the farewells which he gave, | |
| When I, with weeping eyes, bid him adieu. | 20 |
| Dodger, take heed. | |
| DODGER. My lord, I am advis’d 2 | |
| That what I spake is true: to prove it so, | |
| His cousin Askew, that supplied his place, | 24 |
| Sent me for him from France, that secretly | |
| He might convey himself thither. | |
| LINCOLN. Is’t even so? | |
| Dares he so carelessly venture his life | 28 |
| Upon the indignation of a king? | |
| Has he despis’d my love, and spurn’d those favours | |
| Which I with prodigal hand pour’d on his head? | |
| He shall repent his rashness with his soul; | 32 |
| Since of my love he makes no estimate, | |
| I’ll make him wish he had not known my hate. | |
| Thou hast no other news? | |
| DODGER. None else, my lord. | 36 |
| LINCOLN. None worse I know thou hast.—Procure the king | |
| To crown his giddy brows with ample honours, | |
| Send him chief colonel, and all my hope | |
| Thus to be dash’d! But ’tis in vain to grieve, | 40 |
| One evil cannot a worse relieve. | |
| Upon my life, I have found out his plot; | |
| That old dog, Love, that fawn’d upon him so, | |
| Love to that puling girl, his fair-cheek’d Rose, | 44 |
| The lord mayor’s daughter, hath distracted him, | |
| And in the fire of that love’s lunacy | |
| Hath he burnt up himself, consum’d his credit, | |
| Lost the king’s love, yea, and I fear, his life, | 48 |
| Only to get a wanton to his wife, | |
| Dodger, it is so. | |
| DODGER. I fear so, my good lord. | |
| LINCOLN. It is so—nay, sure it cannot be! | 52 |
| I am at my wits’ end. Dodger! | |
| DODGER. Yea, my lord. | |
| LINCOLN. Thou art acquainted with my nephew’s haunts. | |
| Spend this gold for thy pains; go seek him out; | 56 |
| Watch at my lord mayor’s—there if he live, | |
| Dodger, thou shalt be sure to meet with him. | |
| Prithee, be diligent.—Lacy, thy name | |
| Liv’d once in honour, now ’tis dead in shame.— | 60 |
| Be circumspect. Exit. | |
| DODGER. I warrant you, my lord. Exit. | |
