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 damned 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 earned 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 stewed 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 revenged of her. PAGE. Pray thee go down. PISTOL. I’ll see her damned first to Pluto’s damned 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 Trojant 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 give fire. Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there. [_Laying down his sword._] Come we to full points here? And are etceteras nothings? FALSTAFF. Pistol, I would be quiet. PISTOL. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen the seven stars. DOLL. For God’s sake, thrust him downstairs. I cannot endure such a fustian rascal. PISTOL. Thrust him downstairs? Know we not Galloway nags? FALSTAFF. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling. Nay, an he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here. BARDOLPH. Come, get you downstairs.