Yonder he comes, and that arrant Malmsey-Nose Bardolph with him. Do your Offices, do your Offices: Mr. Fang, and Mr. Snare, do me, do me, do me your Offices.

Fal.

How now? whose Mare's dead? what's the matter?

Fang.

Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.

Fal.

Away Varlets, draw Bardolph: Cut me off the Villain's Head: Throw the Quean in the Channel.

Host.

Throw me in the Channel? I'll throw thee there. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly Rogue. Murder, murder: O thou Hony-suckle Villain, wilt thou kill God's Officers and the King's? O thou hony-seed Rogue, thou art a Hony-seed, a Man-queller, and a Woman-queller.

Fal.

Keep them off, Bardolph.

Fang.

A Rescue, a Rescue.

Host.

Good People bring a Rescue. Thou wilt not? thou wilt not? do, do thou Rogue: Do thou Hempseed.

Fal.

Away you Scullion, you Rampallian, you Fustilirian: I'll tuck your Catastrophe.

Ch. Just.

What's the matter? Keep the Peace here, hoa.

Host.

Good my Lord, be good to me. I beseech you stand to me.

Ch. Just.

How now, Sir John? what are you brawling here? Doth this become your place, your time, and business? You should have been well on your way to York. Stand from him Fellow, wherefore hang'st upon him?

Host.

Oh my most worshipful Lord, and't please your Grace, I am a poor Widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my Suit.

Ch. Just.

For what Sum?

Host.

It is more than for some, my Lord, it is for all; all I have, he hath eaten me out of House and Home; he hath put all my Substance into that fat Belly of his; but I will

have some of it out again, or I will ride thee o'Nights, like the Mare.

Fal.

I think I am as like to ride the Mare, if I have any vantage of Ground to get up.

Ch. Just.

How comes this, Sir John? Fie, what Man of good temper would endure this tempest of Exclamation? Are you not asham'd to inforce a poor Widow to so rough a course to come by her own?

Fal.

What is the gross Sum that I owe thee?

Host.

Marry, if thou wer't an honest Man, thy self, and the Mony too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt Goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round Table, by a Sea-coal Fire, on Wednesday in Whitson-Week, when the Prince broke thy Head for likening him to a Singing-man of Windsor; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my Lady thy Wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not Good-wife Keech, the Butcher's Wife, come in then, and call me Gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a Mess of Vinegar; telling us, she had a good Dish of Prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee they were ill for a green Wound? And didst not thou, when she was gone down Stairs, desire me to be no more familiar with such poor People, saying, that e'er long they should call me Madam? And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch thee thirty Shillings? I put thee now to thy Book-oath, deny it if thou canst?

Fal.

My Lord, this is a poor mad Soul; and she says up and down the Town, that her eldest Son is like you. She hath been in good case, and the truth is, poverty hath distracted her; but for these foolish Officers, I beseech you, I may have redress against them.

Ch. Just.

Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true Cause, the false Way. It is not a confident Brow, nor the throng of Words, that come with such, more than impudent, sawciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration. I know you ha' practis'd upon the easie-yielding Spirit of this Woman.

Host.

Yes in troth, my Lord.

Ch. Just.

Prethee, peace; pay her the Debt you owe her, and unpay the Villany you have done her; the one you may do with sterling Mony, and the other with currant Repentance.

Fal.

My Lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You call honourable Boldness impudent Sawciness. If a Man will curt'sie, and say nothing, he is Virtuous: No, my Lord, your humble duty remembred, I will not be your Sutor. I say to you, I desire deliv'rance from these Officers, being upon hasty Employment in the King's Affairs.

Ch. Just.

You speak, as having Power to do wrong: But answer in the Effect your Reputation, and satisfie the poor Woman.

Fal.

Come hither, Hostess.

Ch. Just.

Now, Master Gower, what News?

Gower.

The King, my Lord, and Henry Prince of Wales are near at Hand: The rest the Paper tells.

Fal.

As I am a Gentleman—

Host.

Nay, you said so before.

Fal.

As I am a Gentleman, come, no more words of it.

Host.

By this heavenly Ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my Plate, and the Tapestry of my Dining Chambers.

Fal.

Glasses, Glasses, is the only drinking; and for thy Walls a pretty slight Drollery, or the Story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in Water-work, is worth a thousand of these Bed-hangings, and these Fly-bitten Tapestries. Let it be ten Pound, if thou canst. Come, if it were not for thy Humours, there is not a better Wench in England. Go, wash thy Face, and draw thy Action: Come, thou must not be in this humour with me, come, I know thou wast set on to this.

Host.

Prethee, Sir John, let it be but twenty Nobles, I am loth to pawn my Plate, in good earnest la.

Fal.

Let it alone, I'll make other shift; you'll be a Fool still.

Host.

Well, you shall have it, although I pawn my Gown. I hope you'll come to Supper: You'll pay me all together?

Fal.

Will I live? Go with her, with her; Hook on, hook on.

Host.

Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at Supper?

Fal.

No more words. Let's have her.

Ch. Just.

I have heard bitter News.

Fal.

What's the News, my good Lord?

Ch. Just.

Where lay the King last Night?

Gower.

At Basing-stoke, my Lord.

Fal.

I hope, my Lord, all's well. What is the News, my Lord?

Ch. Just.

Come all his Forces back?

Gower.

No; fifteen hundred Foot, and five hundred Horse, are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster, against Northumberland and the Arch-Bishop.

[illeg.]

Comes the King back from Wales, my noble Lord?

Ch. Just.

You shall have Letters of me presently. [illeg.] along with me, good Mr. Gower.

Fal.

my Lord.

Ch. Just.

What's the matter?

Fal.

Master Gower, I shall entreat you with me to dinner.

Gower.
I must wait upon my good Lord here.
I thank you, good Sir John.

Ch. Just.

Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take Soldiers up in Countreys as you go.

Fal.

Will you Sup with me, Master Gower?

Ch. Just.

What foolish Master taught you these manners, Sir John?

Fal.

Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a Fool that taught them me. This is the right Fencing grace, my Lord, tap for tap, and so part fair.

Ch. Just.

Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great Fool.