ÐÇ¿ÕÓéÀÖ¹ÙÍø

HUBERT: Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot.

BASTARD: A friend. What art thou?

HUBERT: Of the part of England.

BASTARD: Whither dost thou go?

HUBERT: What's that to thee? why may not I demand

Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine?

BASTARD: Hubert, I think?

HUBERT: Thou hast a perfect thought:

I will upon all hazards well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well.

Who art thou?

BASTARD: Who thou wilt: and if thou please,

Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think

I come one way of the Plantagenets.

HUBERT: Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night

Have done me shame: brave soldier, pardon me,

That any accent breaking from thy tongue

Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.

BASTARD: Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad?

HUBERT: Why, here