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-now a' 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 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.

Doll. So you do, hostess.

Host. Do I yea, in very truth do I, an 't were an aspen-leaf: 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.

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? God's light? with two points on your shoulder? much!

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.

you

Doll. 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 upon you before have earned 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 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 on her. Page. 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 book and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not Hiren here?

Host. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet! it is very late, i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

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,

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. On 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 fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.-
Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give

fire:

Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou [Laying down his sword.

there.

Come we to full points here, and are etceteras

nothing?

Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif; what! we have seen the seven stars.

Doll. 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 shovegroat shilling nay, an 'a nothing but speak nothing, 'a 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 ! Come, Atropos, I say!

Host. Here's goodly stuff toward!

Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.

Doll. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee do not draw.

Fal. Get you down-stairs.

[Drawing.

Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now.—Alas,

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