Zounds, masters, here's ado, 417when princes must go to prison! 418Why, John, didst ever see the like?

Oh, Derrick, trust me, I never saw the like.

Why, John, thou mayest see what princes be in choler. 421A judge a box on the ear! I'll tell thee, John, O John, 422I would not have done it for twenty shillings.

No, nor I. There had been no way but one with us: 424we should have been hanged.

Faith, John, I'll tell thee what. Thou shalt be my 426lord chief justice, and thou shalt sit in the chair, 427and I'll be the young prince and hit thee a box on the ear, 428and then thou shalt say, "to teach you what prerogatives 429mean, I commit you to the Fleet."

Come on, I'll be your judge. 431But thou shalt not hit me hard?

No, no.

What hath he done?

Marry, he hath robbed Derrick.

Why, then, I cannot let him go.

I must needs have my man.

You shall not have him.

Shall I not have my man? Say "No" an you dare! 439How say you, shall I not have my man?

No, marry, shall you not.

Shall I not, John?

No, Derrick.

Why, then, take you that 'til more come. [Derrick gives John a box on the ear]444 Zounds, shall I not have him?

Well, I am content to take this at your hand, 446but, I pray you, who am I?

Who art thou? Zounds, dost not know thyself?

No.

Now away, simple fellow! 450Why man, thou art John the Cobbler.

No, I am my Lord Chief Justice of England.

Oh, John, mass, thou say'st true, thou art indeed.

Why, then, to teach you what prerogatives mean 454I commit you to the Fleet.

Well, I will go, but, i'faith, you grey-beard knave, I'll course you.

5.26457O John, come, come out of thy chair! Why, what a clown 458wert thou to let me hit thee a box on the ear, and now 459thou seest they will not take me to the Fleet! I think that 460thou art one of these workaday clowns.

But I marvel what will become of thee.

Faith, I'll be no more a carrier.

What wilt thou do, then?

I'll dwell with thee and be a cobbler.

With me? Alas, I am not able to keep thee. 466Why, thou wilt eat me out of doors.

O John, no John, I am none of these great slou468ching fellows that devour these great pieces of beef and 469brewis. Alas, a trifle serves me. A woodcock, a chicken, 470or a capon's leg, or any such little thing serves me.

A capon! Why, man, I cannot get a capon once a 472year, except it be at Christmas at some other man's house, 473for we cobblers be glad of a dish of roots.

Roots? Why, are you so good at rooting? 475Nay, cobbler, we'll have you ringed.

But, Derrick,

5.36Though we be so poor,

5.37477Yet will we have in store

5.38A crab in the fire,

5.39478With nut-brown ale,

5.40That is full stale,

5.41479Which will a man quail,

5.42And lay in the mire!

A bots on you! An't be but for your ale, 481I'll dwell with you. Come, let's away as fast as we can.