Since when, I pray you, Sir? what, with two Points on
your shoulder? much
Pist. I will murther your Ruffe, for this
Host. No, good Captaine Pistol: not heere, sweete
Captaine
Dol. Captaine? thou abhominable damn'd Cheater,
art thou not asham'd to be call'd Captaine? If Captaines
were of my minde, they would trunchion you out, for taking
their Names vpon you, before you haue earn'd them.
You a Captaine? you slaue, for what? for tearing a poore
Whores Ruffe in a Bawdy-house? Hee a Captaine? hang
him Rogue, hee liues vpon mouldie stew'd-Pruines, and
dry'de Cakes. A Captaine? These Villaines will make
the word Captaine odious: Therefore Captaines had
neede looke to it
Bard. 'Pray thee goe downe, good Ancient
Falst. Hearke thee hither, Mistris Dol
Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporall Bardolph, I
could teare her: Ile be reueng'd on her
Page. 'Pray thee goe downe
Pist. Ile see her damn'd first: to Pluto's damn'd Lake,
to the Infernall Deepe, where Erebus and Tortures vilde
also.
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