Bar. She will not pledge him, Sir John. She is Pistol-proof. Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs. I'll drink no more than will do me good, for any man's pleasure, I. Pist. By my valor, you shall charge.-Come, Mother! Host. Away, away! I cannot abide fwag gerers in my house! Fal. No more, Pistol!--Discharge yourself of our company, Piftol! Bar. No more, good Captain Pistol. Host. Captain! thou abominable cheater! art thou not ashamed to be called Captain? If Captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out for taking their names before you have earned them. You a Captain, you flave! a base, mouldy, fcurvy, lack-linen, bottle-ale rogue! a Captain! these fwaggering villains make the word Captain odious. Bar. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Pist. Not I, Bardolph: I'll fee her firft in Pluto's deepest lake, Host. Good Captain, I beseech you, aggra vate your choler. Pist. Pist. These be humors, indeed! Shall pack horfes, And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty miles a day, Compare with Cæfars, and with Cannibals, And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather throw them to King Cerberus, and let the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys? Bar. Be gone, good ancient! this will to a brawl anon. Pist. Feed and be fat, my fair Callipolis! La speranza me contenta. grow Fear we broadfides? No, let the fiend give fire. Give me fome fack !-and, fweetheart, (laying his sword on the ground) lie thou there! Have we no further cheer; and are et ceteras nothing? Fal. Piftol. I would be quiet. Pist. Sweet Knight, I kifs thy hand! What! Have we not seen the seven stars? Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shovegroat fhilling. Bar. Come, get you down stairs. Pist. What! fhall we have incifion? fhall we embrue ?--Then death Rock } Rock me afleep, abridge my doleful days! (Snatching up his sword. Fal. Give me my rapier, boy! (BARDOLPH fighting with PISTOL, drives him out.) Host. I pray you, Sir John, do not draw! Fal. Come, you fustian villain, get you down ftairs! (Drawing his sword and following BARDOLPH and PISTOL.) Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forfwear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So, murder, I warrant you. Re-enter FALSTAFF, then BARDOLPH. Fal. Have you turned him out? Bar. Yes, Sir, in the middle of the street, in the gutter. You have hurt him, Sir, in the fhoulder. Fal. A rafcal! to brave me! Host. Ah, Sir John! thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the nine worthies. Come and fit down! Within there, bring more fack and toast! F. Fal. Fal. (sitting) A flave! I will tofs the rogue in a blanket. Enter behind, P. HENRY and POINS, disguised like Drazers. A bragging flave! the rogue fled from me like quick filver. Host. I'faith, and thou follow'dft him like a pillar.Now pray, Sir John, tell me what humor is Prince Henry of? Fal. A good fhallow young fellow. He would have made a good pantler; he would have chipped bread well. Host. They fay, Poins has a good wit. 1 Fal. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard; There is no more conceit in him, than in a mallet. Host. Why does the Prince love him fo then? Fal. Because he plays at quoits well, and jumps upon joint ftools, and swears with a good grace, and wears his boot very smooth; and fuch other gambol faculties he has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for which the Prince admires him, for the Prince himself is fuch another: the weight of a hair would turn the scales between their avoirdupois.-Francis! fome fack! P. Hen. Poins. (coming forward) Anon, anon, Sir! Fal. Fal. Hey, hey!-a counterfeit fon of the King's? and art not thou Poins's brother? P. Hen. Why, thou globe of finful continents, what a life doft thou lead? Fal. A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art but a drawer. P. Hen. Very true, Sir, and I am come to draw you out by the ears. Fal. Thou mad compound of Majefty! by my fpare flesh and scanty blood, thou art welcome! (holding his hand to P. HEN. P. Hen. You inexhaustible mine of tallow! How vilely did you speak of me, even now, before this honeft gentlewoman! Fal. Didft thou hear me? P. Hen. Yes; and I shall drive you to confefs the wilful abuse, and then I know how to handle you. Fal No abufe Hal; on my honor-no abufe! P. Hen. No!-to call me pantler, and breadchipper, and I know not what! Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse! Fal. No abufe, Ned, in the world.-I difpraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not |