Foole.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prince Henry, Pointz, Bardolfe, and Page.

Prin. Trust me, I am exceeding weary

Poin. Is it come to that? I had thought wearines durst
not haue attach'd one of so high blood

Prin. It doth me: though it discolours the complexion
of my Greatnesse to acknowledge it. Doth it not shew
vildely in me, to desire small Beere?
Poin. Why, a Prince should not be so loosely studied,
as to remember so weake a Composition

Prince. Belike then, my Appetite was not Princely
got: for (in troth) I do now remember the poore Creature,
Small Beere. But indeede these humble considerations
make me out of loue with my Greatnesse. What a
disgrace is it to me, to remember thy name? Or to know
thy face to morrow? Or to take note how many paire of
Silk stockings y hast? (Viz. these, and those that were thy
peach-colour'd ones:) Or to beare the Inuentorie of thy
shirts, as one for superfluity, and one other, for vse. But
that the Tennis-Court-keeper knowes better then I, for
it is a low ebbe of Linnen with thee, when thou kept'st