Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very best: door; shut the there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now: - shut the door, pray you. Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess? Host. Pray you, pacify yourself, Sir John: there comes no swaggerers here. Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. now 'a Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the deputy, t' other day; and, as he said to me, 't was no longer ago than Wednesday last, "Neighbour Quickly," says he; Master Dumb, our minister, was by then; "Neighbour Quickly," says he, "receive those that are civil; for," saith he, "you are in an ill name:" said so, I can tell whereupon; "for," says he, "you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take heed what guests you receive: receive," says he, "no swaggering companions.' There comes none here: you would bless you to hear what he said: - no, I'll no swaggerers. Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound: he 'll not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance. Call him up, drawer. [Exit First Drawer. Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: but I do not love swaggering; by my troth, I am the worse when one says "swagger:" feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you. Dol. So you do, hostess. Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspenleaf: I cannot abide swaggerers. Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and Page. Pist. God save you, Sir John! Fal. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess. 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 no proofs nor no bullets: I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I. Pist. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you. Dol. 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. Dol. 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 basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I God's light, with two points on your shoulpray you, sir? der? much! -- Pist. God let me not live, but 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. Dol. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names have earned them. You a captain! you upon you before you slave, for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdyhouse? He a captain! hang him, rogue! he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as odious as the word "occupy;" which was an excellent good word before it was ill sorted: therefore captains had need look to 't. Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Fal. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll. Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her: - I'll be revenged of her. Puge. Pray thee, go down. Pist. I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake, by this hand, 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 here? Host. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. Pist. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses, And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty miles a-day, Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals, And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with 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 none 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. Come, give 's some sack. Se fortuna mi tormenta, lo sperare mi contenta. Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: what! we have seen the seven stars. Dol. For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot endure such a fustian rascal. Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags? Fal Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling: nay, an 'a do nothing but speak nothing, 'a shall be nothing here. Bard. Come, get you down stairs. Pist. What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue? Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. [Drawing, and driving Pistol out. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. [Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal 's gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you! now. Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought 'a made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Re-enter BARDOLPH. Fal. Have you turned him out o' doors? Bard. Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk; you have hurt him, sir, i' the shoulder. Fal. A rascal! to brave me! come on, Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweatest! come, let me wipe thy face; 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. Dol. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Musicians. Page. The music is come, sir. Fal. Let them play: - play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. [Music.] A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver., Dol. I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter, behind, Prince HENRY and POINTZ disguised as Drawers. Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's-head; do not bid me remember mine end. Dol. Sirrah, what humour's the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow: 'a would have made a good pantler, 'a would ha' chipped bread well. Dol. They say Pointz has a good wit. Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in a mallet. Dol. Why does the prince love him so, then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness; and 'a plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off 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 'a has, 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? Poin. Let's beat him before his whore. P. Hen. Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot. Poin. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance? Fal. Kiss me, Doll. |