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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [497]

By Root 18464 0
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 swagg'rers.

FALSTAFF.

He's no swagg'rer, 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 FRANCIS

HOSTESS.

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.

HOSTESS.

Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen

leaf. I

cannot abide swagg'rers.

Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and PAGE

PISTOL.

God save you, Sir John!

FALSTAFF.

Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with

a cup of sack; do you discharge upon mine hostess.

PISTOL.

I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.

FALSTAFF.

She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly offend her.

HOSTESS.

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.

PISTOL.

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.

PISTOL.

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

basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir?

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

PISTOL.

God let me not live but I will murder your ruff for this.

FALSTAFF.

No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here.

Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.

HOSTESS.

No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

DOLL.

Captain! Thou abominable damn'd 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 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! 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.

BARDOLPH.

Pray thee go down, good ancient.

FALSTAFF.

Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.

PISTOL.

Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear

her; I'll be reveng'd of her.

PAGE.

Pray thee go down.

PISTOL.

I'll see her damn'd first; to Pluto's damn'd lake, by this

hand, to th' infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also.

Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors!

Have

we not Hiren here?

HOSTESS.

Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i'

faith; I

beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

PISTOL.

These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,

And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,

Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,

Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,

And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with

King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.

Shall we fall foul for toys?

HOSTESS.

By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.

BARDOLPH.

Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl anon.

PISTOL.

Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we not Hiren here?

HOSTESS.

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.

PISTOL.

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

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