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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. Hoft. Dol? yea, in very truth, do I, as if it were an afpen leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers.

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Enter Pistol, Bardolph and Page. Pist

. Save you, Sir John. Fal. Welcome, ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you cup of sack, do you discharge upon mine hostess. Pijt. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two Fal. She is Pistol-proof, Sir, you shall hardly offend

with a

bullets.

her.

Hoft

. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets ; I will drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure. I

Pit. Then to you, Mrs. Dorothy, I will charge you.
Dol

. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion ! what

you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linnen mate. Away, you mouldy rogue, away, l’m meat for your master. Pift. 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, if you play the fawcy cuttle with me.

Away, you bottle-ale" rascal, you basket-hilt stale jugler. You.—Since when, I pray you, Sir!-- 8 what, with two * points on your shoulder? much! T3

Pijt,

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what, with two points on

dain at that time, of the famę your fhoulder ? much ! ] Much sense with that more modern one, was a common expression of dif- Marry come up. The Oxford As a mark of his commiftion,

Editor

Pijt. I will murther your ruff for this.

Fal. 9 No more, Pistol; I wou'd not have you go off here. Discharge your self of our company, Pistol.

Host. No, good captain Fiftol; not here, sweet captain.

Dol. Captain! thou abominable damn’d cheater, art thou not asham’d to be call’d captain? if Captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out of taking their names upon you, before you have earn'd them. You a captain! you Nave! 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 dry'd 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 forted; therefore captains had need look to it.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good Antient.
Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Dol.

Pit. Not I. I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, -1 could rear her. I'll be reveng'd on her.

Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pijt. I'll see her damnd first: to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, where Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, fay I; down ! down, dogs; down, fates; have we not Hiren here?

Hoft. Good captain Peefel, be quiet, it is very late ; I beseech you now, aggravate your choler. Pijt. These be good humours, indeed. Shall pack

horses

Edror not apprehending this, is from the old edition of 1600, alters it to march. WAR BURT.

Pops. I cannot but think the emen 1-he lives upon mouldy flewd dation right. This use of much prunes and dry'd cakes.] That is, I do not remember, nor is it here he lives at other mens colt, but proyed by any example. is not admitted to their tables, 9 No n.ore, Pifol, 65c.] This and gets only what is too ftale to

be eaten in the house.

And

And · hollow-pamper'd jades of Afia,
Which cannot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæfars, and with * Cannibals,
And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Hoft. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. Bard. Begone, good Ancient. This will grow to a

brawl anon.

Pift

. Die men, like dogs ; give crowns like pins ; 3 have we not Hiren here?

Hoft. Oʻmy word, captain, there's none such here. What the good-jer? do you think, I would deny her? I pray, be quiet. Pit. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis; come, give me some fack, * Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.

to

* - hollow-pamper'd jades of these Heroes, calls his Sword

Afia, &c.] These lines are Hiren. I have been told, Ama in

part a quotation out of an old dis du Gaul had a Sword of this absurd fustian play intitled, Tam- Name. Hirir is

strike: turlain's Con uejis, or the Scy- From hence it seems probasbian Shepherd

THEOBALD. ble that Hiren may be deriv'd; *annibal is used by a blunder and fo fignify a washing, cutfor Hannibal. This was after- ting Sword

But what wonwards copied by Congreve's Bluf derful Humour is there in the and Wittol

. Bluff is a character good Hostess fo innocently misapparently taken from this of taking Piftol's Drift, fancying Ancient Pipol.

that he meant to fight for a 3 bave we not Hiren here? Whore in the House, and thereHoft. Omy Word, Captain, fore telling him, On my Word, there's none such here.] i. e. Shall Caplain, there's none such here; I fear, that have this trusty and what the good-jer ! do you think, invincible Sword by my side? would deny ber? THEOBALD. For, as King Arthur's' Swords 4 Sir Tho. Hanmer reads, Si were callid Caliburne and Ron; fortuna me tormenta, il serare me as Eduard the Confefior's, Cur- contenta, which is undoubtedly lana; as Charlemagne's, Joyeufe; the true reading, but perhaps it Orlando's, Durindana; Rinaldo's, was intended that l'iftol Mould Fujberta; and Rogero's, Balijar- corrupt it. da; fo Piftol, in imitation of T4

Fear

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Fear we broad sides ? no, let the fiend give fire: Give me some fack; and, sweet-heart, lye thou there,

(Laying down his sword. s Come we to full points here ; and are & catera's no

thing?
Fal. Pijiol, I would be quiet.

Pift. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif. What! we have seen the seven stars.

Dol. Thrust him down stairs, I cannot endure such a fuliian rascal.

Pit. Thrust him down ftairs ? know we not 'galloway nags?

tal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling. Nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here.

Bard. Come, get you down stairs,

Pijt. What, shall we have incision! shall we imbrew ? then Death Rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days : Why, then let grievous, ghaftly, gaping wounds Untwine the filters three. Come, Atropos, I say.

(Snatching up bis jword. Hot. Here's goodly stuff toward. Fal. Give me my rapier, boy: Dol. I proythee, Jack, I pr’ythee, do not draw, Fal. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing, and driving Pistol cut. Hoft. Here's a goodly tumult ; I'll forswear keeping house, before I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murther, I warrant now. Alas, alas, put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.

5 Come we to full points, &c.] is from nativa; i.e. a Woman. That is, shall we stop here, shall Slave that is born in one's house ; we have no further entertain- and that Pistol would kits Falment.

foff's domestic Mistress DolTear6 Sweet Knight, I kiss thy fouet.

THEOBALD. Neif ] ;. e. I kiss thy Filt. Mr. 7 Galloway nags.] That is, Pope will have it, that neif here common hackneys.

Del

.

Dol. I pr’ythee, Jack, be quiet, the rascal is gone. Ah, you whorson, little valiant villain, you !

Hot. Are you not hurt i'th'groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Fal. Have you turn'd him out of doors ?

Bard. Yes, Sir, the rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, Sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal, to brave me !

Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you. Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st? Come, let me wipe thy face, come on, you whorson chops-ah, rogue! I love thee, -thou art as valourous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon ; and ten times better than the nine Worthies.

A villain ! Fal. A rascally Nave; I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Dol. Do, if thou dar'ft for thy heart : if thou do'st, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.

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Enter Musick. Page. The musick is come, Sir.

Fal. Let them play; play, Sirs. Sit on my knee, Dol. A rascal, bragging save! the rogue fled from me like quick-silver.

Dol. I'faith, and thou follow’d'st him like a church. Thou whorson little 8 tydie Bartholomew Boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting on days, and foining un nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

8

8 Little tydy Bartholomew Boar. Bartholomew Boar-pig is a little 11g.) For tidy Sir 7. Hanmer reads pig made of paste, sold at Barting, but they are both words of tholomew fair, and given to chilendearment, and equally proper. dren for a fairing.

SCENE

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