Sir, see you aught up yonder?
BAGENHALL. I miss something.
The tree that only bears dead fruit is gone.
STAFFORD. What tree, sir?
BAGENHALL. Well, the tree in Virgil, sir,
That bears not its own apples.
STAFFORD. What! the gallows?
BAGENHALL. Sir, this dead fruit was ripening overmuch,
And had to be removed lest living Spain
Should sicken at dead England.
STAFFORD. Not so dead,
But that a shock may rouse her.
BAGENHALL. I believe
Sir Thomas Stafford?
STAFFORD. I am ill disguised.
BAGENHALL. Well, are you not in peril here?
STAFFORD. I think so.
I came to feel the pulse of England, whether
It beats hard at this marriage. Did you see it?
BAGENHALL. Stafford, I am a sad man and a serious.
Far liefer had I in my country hall
Been reading some old book, with mine old hound
Couch'd at my hearth, and mine old flask of wine
Beside me, than have seen it: yet I saw it.
STAFFORD. Good, was it splendid?
BAGENHALL. Ay, if Dukes, and Earls,
And Counts, and sixty Spanish cavaliers,
Some six or seven Bishops, diamonds, pearls,
That royal commonplace too, cloth of gold,
Could make it so.
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