1110 Falst. Do'st thou heare? it is mine Ancient.

1111Host. Tilly-fally (Sir Iohn) neuer tell me, your ancient

1112Swaggerer comes not in my doores. I was before Master

1113Tisick the Deputie, the other day: and as hee said to me,

1114it was no longer agoe then Wednesday last: Neighbour

1115Quickly (sayes hee;) Master Dombe, our Minister, was by

1116then: Neighbour Quickly (sayes hee) receiue those that

1117are Ciuill; for (sayth hee) you are in an ill Name: now

1118hee said so, I can tell whereupon: for (sayes hee) you are

1119an honest Woman, and well thought on; therefore take

1120heede what Guests you receiue: Receiue (sayes hee) no

1121swaggering Companions. There comes none heere. You

1122would blesse you to heare what hee said. No, Ile no

1123Swaggerers.

1124Falst. Hee's no Swaggerer (Hostesse:) a tame Cheater,

1125hee: you may stroake him as gently, as a Puppie Grey-

1126hound: hee will not swagger with a Barbarie Henne, if

1127her feathers turne backe in any shew of resistance. Call

1128him vp (Drawer.)

1129Host. Cheater, call you him? I will barre no honest

1130man my house, nor no Cheater: but I doe not loue swag-

1131gering; I am the worse when one sayes, swagger: Feele

1132Masters, how I shake: looke you, I warrant you.

1133Dol. So you doe, Hostesse.

1134Host. Doe I? yea, in very truth doe I, if it were an As-

1135pen Leafe: I cannot abide Swaggerers.

1137Pist. 'Saue you, Sir Iohn.

1138Falst. Welcome Ancient Pistol. Here (Pistol) I charge

1139you with a Cup of Sacke: doe you discharge vpon mine

1140Hostesse.

1141Pist. I will discharge vpon her (Sir Iohn) with two

1142Bullets.

1143Falst. She is Pistoll-proofe (Sir) you shall hardly of-

1144fend her.

1145Host. Come, Ile drinke no Proofes, nor no Bullets: I

1146will drinke no more then will doe me good, for no mans

1147pleasure, I.

1148Pist. Then to you (Mistris Dorothie) I will charge

1149you.

1150Dol. Charge me? I scorne you (scuruie Companion)

1151what? you poore, base, rascally, cheating, lacke-Linnen-

1152Mate: away you mouldie Rogue, away; I am meat for

1153your Master.

1154Pist. I know you, Mistris Dorothie.

1155Dol. Away you Cut-purse Rascall, you filthy Bung,

1156away: By this Wine, Ile thrust my Knife in your mouldie

1157Chappes, if you play the sawcie Cuttle with me. Away

1158you Bottle-Ale Rascall, you Basket-hilt stale Iugler, you.

1159Since when, I pray you, Sir? what, with two Points on

1160your shoulder? much.

1161Pist. I will murther your Ruffe, for this.

1162Host. No, good Captaine Pistol: not heere, sweete

1163Captaine.

1164Dol. Captaine? thou abhominable damn'd Cheater,

1165art thou not asham'd to be call'd Captaine? If Captaines

1166were of my minde, they would trunchion you out, for ta-

1167king their Names vpon you, before you haue earn'd them.

1168You a Captaine? you slaue, for what? for tearing a poore

1169Whores Ruffe in a Bawdy-house? Hee a Captaine? hang

1170him Rogue, hee liues vpon mouldie stew'd-Pruines, and

1171dry'de Cakes. A Captaine? These Villaines will make

1172the word Captaine odious: Therefore Captaines had

1173neede looke to it.

1174Bard. 'Pray thee goe downe, good Ancient.

1175Falst. Hearke thee hither, Mistris Dol.

1176Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporall Bardolph, I

1177could teare her: Ile be reueng'd on her.

1178Page. 'Pray thee goe downe.

1179Pist. Ile see her damn'd first: to Pluto's damn'd Lake,

1180to the Infernall Deepe, where Erebus and Tortures vilde

1181also. Hold Hooke and Line, say I: Downe: downe

1182Dogges, downe Fates: haue wee not Hiren here?

1183Host. Good Captaine Peesel be quiet, it is very late:

1184I beseeke you now, aggrauate your Choler.

1185Pist. These be good Humors indeede. Shall Pack-

1186Horses, and hollow-pamper'd Iades of Asia, which can-

1187not goe but thirtie miles a day, compare with Caesar, and

1188with Caniballs, and Troian Greekes? nay, rather damne

1189them with King Cerberus, and let the Welkin roare: shall

1190wee fall foule for Toyes?

1191Host. By my troth Captaine, these are very bitter

1192words.

1193Bard. Be gone, good Ancient: this will grow to a

1194Brawle anon.

1195Pist. Die men, like Dogges; giue Crownes like Pinnes:

1196Haue we not Hiren here?

1197Host. On my word (Captaine) there's none such here.

1198What the good-yere, doe you thinke I would denye her?

1199I pray be quiet.

1200Pist. Then feed, and be fat (my faire Calipolis.) Come,

1201giue me some Sack, Si fortune me tormente, sperato me con-

1202tente. Feare wee broad-sides? No, let the Fiend giue fire:

1203Giue me some Sack: and Sweet-heart lye thou there:

1204Come wee to full Points here, and are et cetera's no-

1205thing?

1206Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

1207Pist. Sweet Knight, I kisse thy Neaffe: what? wee haue

1208seene the seuen Starres.

1209Dol. Thrust him downe stayres, I cannot endure such

1210a Fustian Rascall.

1211Pist. Thrust him downe stayres? know we not Gallo-

1212way Nagges?

1213Fal. Quoit him downe (Bardolph) like a shoue-groat

1214shilling: nay, if hee doe nothing but speake nothing, hee

1215shall be nothing here.

1216Bard. Come, get you downe stayres.

1217Pist. What? shall wee haue Incision? shall wee em-

1218brew? then Death rocke me asleepe, abridge my dolefull

1219dayes: why then let grieuous, gastly, gaping Wounds,

1220vntwin'd the Sisters three: Come Atropos, I say.

1221Host. Here's good stuffe toward.

1222Fal. Giue me my Rapier, Boy.

1223Dol. I prethee Iack, I prethee doe not draw.

1224Fal. Get you downe stayres.

1225Host. Here's a goodly tumult: Ile forsweare keeping

1226house, before Ile be in these tirrits, and frights. So: Mur-

1227ther I warrant now. Alas, alas, put vp your naked Wea-

1228pons, put vp your naked Weapons.

1229Dol. I prethee Iack be quiet, the Rascall is gone: ah,

1230you whorson little valiant Villaine, you.

1231Host. Are you not hurt i'th'Groyne? me thought hee

1232made a shrewd Thrust at your Belly.

1233Fal. Haue you turn'd him out of doores?

1234Bard. Yes Sir: the Rascall's drunke: you haue hurt

1235him (Sir) in the shoulder.

1236Fal. A Rascall to braue me.

1237Dol. Ah, you sweet little Rogue, you: alas, poore Ape,

1238how thou sweat'st? Come, let me wipe thy Face: Come

1239on, you whorson Chops: Ah Rogue, I loue thee: Thou