._ 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.--Heaven
pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, Heaven pless you!

_Pist._ Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?[1]
Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

[_Crosses to L.H._

_Flu._ I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsy 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, does not agree with it, I would desire you to
eat it.

_Pist._ (_crosses to R.H._) Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

_Flu._ There is one goat for you.

[_Strikes him._

Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it?

_Pist._ Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

_Flu._ You say very true, scald knave, when Heaven's will is: I will
desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: come, there
is sauce for it. (_Striking him again._) You called me yesterday
mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree.[2]
I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

_Gow._ Enough, captain: you have astonished him.[3]

_Flu._ I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat
his pate four days.--Pite, I pray you; it is goot for you.

_Pist._ Must I bite?

_Flu._ Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of questions too, and
ambiguities.

_Pist._ By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat, and eke I
swear----

_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 goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray you, throw
none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take
occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them; that is all.

_Pist._ Good.

_Flu._ Ay, leeks is goot:--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. Heaven be wi'
you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

[_Exit L.H._

_Pist._ (_crosses to L.H.) All hell shall stir for this.

[_Crosses to R.H._

_Gow._ Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will