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Scene IV

London. A street

Enter Beadles, dragging in Hostess Quickly and Doll Tearsheet

Mistress Quickly

No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die, that I might have thee hanged: thou hast 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 hath been a man or two lately killed about her.

Doll Tearsheet

Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I 'll tell thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal, an the child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced villain.

Mistress Quickly

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 Tearsheet

I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swinged for this,—you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famished correctioner, if you be not swinged, I'll forswear half-kirtles.

First Beadle

Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.

Mistress Quickly

O God, that right should thus overcome might!
Well, of sufferance comes ease.

Doll Tearsheet

Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.

Mistress Quickly

Ay, come, you starved blood-hound.

Doll Tearsheet

Goodman death, goodman bones!

Mistress Quickly

Thou atomy, thou!

Doll Tearsheet

Come, you thin thing; come you rascal.

First Beadle

Very well.

Exeunt


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