HOSTESS
No, arrant . I would to God that I might die, that I might have hanged. drawn my shoulder out of joint.
FIRST BEADLE
The constables have delivered her over to me, and she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her. There been a man or two lately killed about her.
DOLL
Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie! Come on, I’ll tell what, damned tripe-visaged rascal, an the child I now go with do miscarry, wert better hadst struck mother, paper-faced villain.
HOSTESS
O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He would make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry!
FIRST BEADLE
If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me, for the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.
DOLL
I’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swinged for this, you bluebottle rogue, you filthy famished correctioner, if you be not swinged, I’ll forswear half-kirtles.
FIRST BEADLE
Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.
HOSTESS
O God, that right should thus overcome might! Well, of sufferance comes ease.
DOLL
Come, you rogue, come, bring me to a justice.
HOSTESS
Ay, come, you starved bloodhound.
DOLL
Goodman death, goodman bones!
HOSTESS
atomy, !
DOLL
Come, you thin thing, come, you rascal!
FIRST BEADLE
Very well.