APPENDIX 
199 
Flu. Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to 
your leek ? There is not enough leek to swear by. 
Pist. Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat. 
Flu. Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray 
you, throw none away; the skin is good for your broken cox¬ 
comb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I 
pray you, mock at ’em; that is all. 
Pist. Good. 
Flu. Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is a groat to heal 
your pate. 
Pist. Me a groat! 
Flu. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have 
another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat. 
V. i. 
Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, 
Unpruned dies ; her hedges even-pleach’d, 
Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, 
Put forth disorder’d twigs ; her fallow leas 
The darnel, hemlock and rank fumitory 
Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts 
That should deracinate such savagery ; 
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth 
The freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover, 
Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, 
Conceives by idleness and nothing teems 
But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, 
Losing both beauty and utility. 
And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, 
Defective in their natures, grow to wildness, 
Even so our houses and ourselves and children 
Have lost, or do not learn for want of time, 
The sciences that should become our country. 
V. ii. 41. 
Shall we not ? What sayest thou, my fair flower-de-luce ? 
V. ii. 322. 
1 HENRY VI. 
Awake, awake, English nobility ! 
Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot: 
Cropp’d are the flower-de-luces in your arms; 
Of England’s coat one half is cut away. 
I. i. 78. 
