Page 676 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped
Showed like a stubble land at harvest home. [35]
He was perfumèd like a milliner,
And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held

A pouncet box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose, and took’t away again;
Who therewith angry, when it next came there, [40]
Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked;

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility. [45]

With many holiday and lady terms
He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded
My prisoners in your majesty’s behalf.
I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

To be so pestered with a popinjay, [50]
Out of my grief and my impatience
Answered neglectingly, I know not what −
He should, or he should not; for he made me mad

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman [55]
Of guns and drums and wounds − God save the mark! −
And telling me the sovereignest thing on earth

Was parmacity for an inward bruise,
And that it was great pity, so it was,
This villainous saltpetre should be digged [60]
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly, and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, [65]

I answered indirectly, as I said,
And I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accusation
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

BLUNT