Gower.

Nay, that's right: but why wear you your Leek to day? St. David's day is past.

Flu.

There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things; I will tell you as a friend, captain Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggarly, lowsie, pragging knave Pistol, which you and your self and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow (look you now) of no merits; he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my Leek. It was in a place where I could breed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap, till I see him once again; and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

Gow.

Why, here he comes, swelling like a Turky-cock.

Flu.

'Tis no matter for his swelling, nor his Turky-cocks. God plesse you, aunchient Pistol: you scurvy lowsie knave, God plesse you.

Pist.
Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
Hence, I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu.

I peseech you heartily, scurvy lowsie knave, at my desires and my requests and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not love it; and your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it; I would desire you to eat it.

Pist.
Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats.

Flu.
There is one Goat for you, [Strikes him.
Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?

Pist.
Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu.

You say very true, scald knave, when God's will is: I will desire you to live in the mean time and eat your victuals; come, there is sawce for it— [Strikes him] You call'd me yesterday mountain-Squire, but I will make you to day a Squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

Gow.

Enough, captain; you have astonish'd him.

Flu.

I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days and four nights. Pite, I pray you; it is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

Pist.

Must I bite?

Flu.

Yes, out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities.

Pist.

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat and swear—

Flu.

Eat, I pray you; will you have some more sawce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist.

Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat.

Flu.

Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the skin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em, that's all.

Pist.

Good.

Flu.

Ay, leeks is good; hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist.

Me a groat!

Flu.

Yes, verily, and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

Pist.

I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

Flu.

If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels; you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels; God pe wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

Pist.

All hell shall stir for this.

Gow.

Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at an antient tradition, began upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel; you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition: fare you well.

Pist.
Doth fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I, that my Dol is dead of malady of France;
And there my rendezvous is quite cut off:
Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd will I turn;
And something lean to cut-purse of quick hand:
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal;
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear, I got them in the Gallia wars. [Exit.

Next section