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Pist. I will discharge upon her, sir John, with two bullets.
Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her.
Host. Come, I'll drink do proofs, nor no bullets: I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, J.
Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
Doll. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. What ! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master.
Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy.
Doll. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you baskethilt stale juggler, you !-Since when, I pray you, sir? -What, with two points on your shoulder? mucht! · Pist. I will murder your ruff for this.
Fal. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
Host. No, good captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
Doll. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called-captain? If cap. tains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earued them. You a captain, you slave! for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy. house?-He a captain! Hang him, rogue! He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried cakes. A captain! these villains will make the word captain as odious as the word occupy; which was an excel.
• Laces, marks of his commission.
lent good word before it was ill.sorted : therefore, captains had need look to it. .
Bard. Pray thee, go dowo, good ancient.
Pist. Not I: tell thee what, corporal Bardolph; I could tear her:I'll be revenged on her.
Page. Pray thee, go down.
Pist. I'll see her damned first to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down! down, dogs! down, faitors*! Have we not Hiren heret?
Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet; it is very late, i'faith : I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. 1. Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall
pack-horses, And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty miles a day, Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals i, And Trojan Greeks ? nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar, Shall we fall foul for toys?
Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.
Bard. Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anon.
Pist. Die men, like dogs; give crowns like pins; Have we not Hiren here?
Host. O my word, captain, there's noue such here. What the good-year! do you think I would deny her? for God's sake, be quiet. · Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis g: Come, give's some sack.
• Traitors, rascals.
Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me con.
tenta. Fear we broadsides ? no, let the fiend give fire: Give me some sack ;-and, sweetheart, lie tho! there.
Laying down his sword. Come we to full points here; and are et ceteras no.
thing? Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. · Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif*: What! we have seen the seven stars.
Doll. Thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.
Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nagste
Fal. Quoit t him down, Bardolph, like a shovegroat shilling: nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here.
Bard. Come, get you down stairs. Pist. What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
[Snatching up his sword. Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days! Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the sisters three! Comie, Atropos, I say!
Host. Here's goodly stuff toward !
[Drawing, and driving Pistol out. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, a fore l'Il be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now, Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.
(Ereunt Pistol and Bardolph. Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you wlioreson little valiant villain, you.
Host. Are you not hurt i'the groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly.
+ Common hacknies.
Part of an ancient song.
Bard. Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk : you have burt him, sir, in the shoulder.
Fal. A rascal ! to brave me!
Doll. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops :-Ah, rogue! i'faith I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain !
Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
Doll. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
Enter musick. Page. The musick is come, sir.
Fal. Let them play;~ Play, sirs.--Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue filed from me like quicksilver.
Doll. l'faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o'days, and foising* o'nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?
Enter behind, Prince Henry und Poins, disguised
like drawers. Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a deatlı’s head: do not bid me remember mine end.
Doll. Sirrahı, what humour is the prince of?
have made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread well.
Doll. They say, Poins bas a good wit.
Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard : there is no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet.
Doll. Why does the prince love him so then?
Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigoess: and he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks oft candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon joint-stools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois.
P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
Poins. Let's beat him before his whore. • P. Hen. Look, if the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot.
Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Fal. Kiss me, Doll.
P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction ! what says the almanack to that?
Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon", his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables : his note-book, his counsel-keeper.
Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses.
Doll. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most cou. stant heart.
Fal. I am old, I am old.
* An astronomical term.