Page 145 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

And if his name be George, I’ll call him Peter;
For new-made honour doth forget men’s names:
’Tis too respective and too sociable
For your conversion. Now your traveller,

He and his toothpick at my worship’s mess, [190]
And when my knightly stomach is suffic’d,
Why then I suck my teeth and catechize
My picked man of countries: “My dear sir”, −

Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
“I shall beseech you”, − that is Question now; [195]
And then comes Answer like an Absey book:
“O sir”, says Answer, “at your best command;

At your employment; at your service, sir”:
“No, sir”, says Question, “I, sweet sir, at yours”:
And so, ere Answer knows what Question would, [200]
Saving in dialogue of compliment,

And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean and the river Po,
It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society, [205]

And fits the mounting spirit like myself;
For he is but a bastard to the time
That doth not smack of observation;
And so am I, whether I smoke or no.

And not alone in habit and device, [210]
Exterior form, outward accoutrement,
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age’s tooth:

Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; [215]
For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.
But who comes in such haste in riding-robes?

What woman-post is this? hath she no husband
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney.
O me! ’tis my mother. − How now, good lady? [220]

What brings you here to court so hastily?