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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 rascall you filthy bung, away! by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me4s. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!--Since when, I pray you, sir?- What, 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.
Dol. Captain! thou abominable damn’d cheater, art thou not ashamed to be call’d-captain ? If captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earn'd 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 stew'd 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 bad need look to it.
Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient.
Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, corporal Bardolph;I could tear her:- I'll be reveng'd on her.
· Page. Pray thee, go down.
Pist. I'll see her damn'd 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 here 46?
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
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 48 : Come, give's some sack.
Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me contenta. 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 et cetera's no
thing? Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. .
Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif 40: What! we have seen the seven stars.
Dol. Thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.
Pist. Thrust him down stairs ! know. we not Gal. loway nags?
Fal. Quoit 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.
brue?- (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!
[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. $o; murder, I warrant now. -- 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 is gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you.
Untwinen, let grievous, o abridge my do