SCENE IFrance. The English camp.
Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER.
Nay, that's right; but why wear you
your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past.
There is occasions and causes why
and wherefore in all things: I will tell you,
asse my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally,
scauld, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol,
which you and yourself 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 breed no contention 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. Enter PISTOL.
Why, here he comes, swelling like a
'Tis no matter for his swellings nor
his turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient
Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless
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.
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 your
affections and your appetites and your digestions
doo's not agree with it, I would desire
you to eat it.
Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.]
Will you be so good, scauld knave, (31)
as eat it?
Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
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. You called
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.
Enough, captain: you have astonished (41)
I say, I will make him eat some part
of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days.
Bite, I pray you; it is good for your green
wound and your ploody coxcomb.
Must I bite?
Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and
out of question too, and ambiguities.
By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: (50)
I eat and eat, I swear--
Eat, I pray you: will you have some
more sauce to your leek? there is not enough
leek to swear by.
Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.
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; that is all. (60)
Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is
a groat to heal your pate.
Me a groat!
Yes, verily and in truth, you shall
take it; or I have another leek in my pocket,
which you shall eat.
I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
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' you, and keep you, and heal your pate. [Exit.
All hell shall stir for this.
Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly
knave. Will you mock at an ancient
tradition, begun 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 ye well. [Exit.
Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital
Of malady of France;
And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honor is cudgelled. Well, bawd I'll turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:
And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. [Exit.