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help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue,

grant that.

Dol. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.

Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and ouches : for to serve bravely is to come halting off, you know : to come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chambers bravely,

Dol. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion ; you two never meet but you fall to some discord: you are both, i' good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that must be you: you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel.

Dol. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead ? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.

Re-enter First Drawer. First Draw. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with you.

Dol. Hang him, swaggering rascal ! let him not come hither : it is the foul-mouthed'st rogue in England.

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: shut the door; there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now : shut the door, I pray you.

Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess ?

Host. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John: there comes no swaggerers here.

Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient.

Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the debuty, t'other day; and, as he said to me, 'twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, lgood faith, neighbour Quickly, says he ; Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then; neighbour Quickly, says he, receive those that are civil; for, said he, you are in an ill name : 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 :


would bless you

to hear what he said : no, I'll no swaggerers. Fa. 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


show of resistance. Call him


[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


I warrant you.
Dol. So you do, hostess.

Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere 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.

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

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

your master.

basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir? God's light, with two points on your shoulder? 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 upon you before you 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! 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.

Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pist. I'll see her damned. first; to Pluto's damined 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

pack-horses And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty mile 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


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. Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento. Fear we broadsides ? no, let the fiend give fire: Give me some sack: and, sweetheart, lie thou there.

[Laying down his sword. 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.

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