Hostess.

Mr. Fang, have you enter'd the action?

Fang.

It is enter'd.

Host.

Where's your yeoman? is he a lusty yeoman? Will he stand to it?

Fang.

Sirrah, where's Snare?

Host.

Ay, ay, good Mr. Snare.

Snare.

Here, here.

Fang.

Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.

Host.

Ay, good Mr. Snare, I have enter'd him and all.

Snare.

It may chance cost some of us our lives: he will stab.

Host.

Alas-the-day; take heed of him; he stab'd me in mine own house, and that most beastly; he cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out. He will foin like any devil, he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

Fang.

If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.

Host.

No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow.

Fang.

If I but fist him once; if he come but within my ^{a note}vice.

Host.

I am undone by his going; I warrant you he is an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Mr. Fang, hold him sure; good Mr. Snare, let him not scape. He comes continually to Piecorner, saving your manhoods, to buy a saddle: and he is indited to dinner to the Lubbar's-head in Lombard-street to Mr. Smooth's the Silkman. I pray ye, since my action is enter'd, and my case

so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one, for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have born, and born, and born: and have been fub'd off, and fub'd off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing, unless a woman should be made an Ass and a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.

Yonder he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, 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 Mrs. Quickly.

Fal.

Away varlets; draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain's head: throw the quean in the kennel.

Host.

Throw me in the kennel? I'll throw thee in the kennel. 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 manqueller, and a woman-queller.

Fal.

Keep them off, Bardolph.

Fang.

A rescue, a rescue!

Host.

Good people, bring a rescue or two; thou wo't, wo't thou, thou wo't, wo't thou rogue: do, thou hempseed.

Fal.

Away you scullion, you rampallian, you fustilarian: I'll tickle your catastrophe.