DOLL. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? There’s a whole merchant’s venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I’ll be friends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars, and whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares. Enter First Drawer. FIRST DRAWER. Sir, Ancient Pistol’s below, and would speak with you. DOLL. Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither: it is the foul-mouthed’st rogue in England. HOSTESS. If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith, I must live among my neighbours. I’ll no swaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the very best. Shut the door, there comes no swaggerers here. I have not lived all this while to have swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you. FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear, hostess? HOSTESS. Pray ye pacify yourself, Sir John. There comes no swaggerers here. FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient. HOSTESS. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne’er tell me. And our ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the debuty t’other day, and, as he said to me,—’twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, i’ good faith,—“Neighbour Quickly,” says he—Master Dumb, our minister, was by then—“Neighbour Quickly,” says he, “receive those that are civil, for,” said he “you are in an ill name.” Now he said so, I 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 swaggerers. FALSTAFF. He’s no swaggerer, 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 First Drawer._] 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 swaggerers. 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.