MISTRESS QUICKLY

O' my word, captain, there's none such here. What
the good-year! do you think I would deny her? For
God's sake, be quiet.

PISTOL

Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
Come, give's some sack.
‘Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.'
Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire:
Give me some sack: and, sweetheart, lie thou there.

Laying down his sword

Come we to full points here; and are etceteras nothing?

FALSTAFF

Pistol, I would be quiet.

PISTOL

Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf: what! we have seen
the seven stars.

DOLL TEARSHEET

For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot
endure such a fustian rascal.

PISTOL

Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?

FALSTAFF

Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
shilling: nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing,
a' shall be nothing here.

BARDOLPH

Come, get you down stairs.

PISTOL

What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?

Snatching up his sword

Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!

MISTRESS QUICKLY

Here's goodly stuff toward!

FALSTAFF

Give me my rapier, boy.