Gow.

Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's ^note day is past.

Flu.

There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, asse my ^note friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and yourself ^note 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 not ^note breed no contention ^note with him; but I will be so bold 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 turkey-cock.

Flu.

'Tis no matter for his swellings ^note nor his turkey-cocks. God pless you ^note, Aunchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!

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

Flu.

I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not love it, nor ^note your affections and your appetites and your disgestions ^note doo's ^note 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. ^note] Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?

Pist.

Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu.

You say very true, scauld knave, when God's will is: I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: come, there is sauce for it. [Strikes him ^note.] You called me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will make you ^noteto-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 astonished him.

Flu.

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

Pist.

Must I bite?

Flu.

Yes, certainly, and ^note out of doubt and out of question ^note too, and ambiguities.

Pist.

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat and eat, I swear— ^note

Flu.

Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce 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, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em ^note; that is ^note 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 b' wi' ^note 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 ancient tradition, begun ^note 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 ^note otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye ^note well.

Pist.
Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I, that my Doll ^note is dead i' the spital ^note
Of malady ^note of France; ^note

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgelled ^note. Well, bawd I'll ^note turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand ^note.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:
And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd ^note scars,
And swear ^note I got them in the Gallia wars. [Exit. ^note

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