Ay--ay!
You, Philip, are a special hand, I hear,
At soups and sauces: what's a horse to you?
D'ye mark that beast they've slid into the midst
So cunningly?--then, Philip, mark this further;
No leg has he to stand on!
FIRST RETAINER. No? that's comfort.
SECOND RETAINER. Peace, Cook! The Earl descends. Well, Gerard, see
The Earl at least! Come, there's a proper man,
I hope! Why, Ralph, no falcon, Pole or Swede,
Has got a starrier eye.
THIRD RETAINER. His eyes are blue:
But leave my hawks alone!
FOURTH RETAINER. So young, and yet
So tall and shapely!
FIFTH RETAINER. Here's Lord Tresham's self!
There now--there's what a nobleman should be!
He's older, graver, loftier, he's more like
A House's head.
SECOND RETAINER. But you'd not have a boy
--And what's the Earl beside?--possess too soon
That stateliness?
FIRST RETAINER. Our master takes his hand--
Richard and his white staff are on the move--
Back fall our people--(tsh!--there's Timothy
Sure to get tangled in his ribbon-ties,
And Peter's cursed rosette's a-coming off!)
--At last I see our lord's back and his friend's;
And the whole beautiful bright company
Close round them--in they go!
[Jumping down from the window-bench, and making for
the table and its jugs.]
Good health, long life,
Great joy to our Lord Tresham and his House!
SIXTH RETAINER.
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