Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's
gone. Ah! you whoreson little valiant villain, 224
you!
Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin? me-
thought a' made a shrewd thrust at your belly.
[Enter Bardolph.]
Fal. Have you turned him out o' doors? 228
Bard. Yea, sir: the rascal's drunk. You
have hurt him, sir, i' the shoulder.
Fal. A rascal, to brave me!
Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, 232
poor ape, how thou sweatest! Come, let me wipe
thy face; come on, you whoreson chops. Ah,
rogue! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous
as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, 236
and ten times better than the Nine Worthies.
Ah, villain!
Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in
a blanket. 240
Dol. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an
thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of
sheets.
Enter Music.
Page. The music is come, sir. 244
Fal. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my
knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue
fled from me like quicksilver.
Dol. I' faith, and thou followedst him like a 248
church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew
boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days,
234 chops: fat-face
249, 250 Bartholomew boar-pig: roast pig, a favorite dish at Bartholomew Fair
