Orl. I shall not, till thou begg’st, think thou art poor;
And when thou begg’st I’ll feed thee at my door,
As I feed dogs, with bones; till then beg, borrow,
Pawn, steal, and hang, turn bawd, when th’art whore.—
My heart-strings sure would crack, were they strained more. [Aside, and exit.
Mat. This is your father, your damned—Confusion light upon all the generation of you; he can come bragging hither with four white herrings at’s tail in blue coats, without roes in their bellies, but I may starve ere he give me so much as a cob.[283]
Bell. What tell you me of this? alas!
Mat. Go, trot after your dad, do you capitulate; I’ll pawn not for you; I’ll not steal to be hanged for such an hypocritical, close, common harlot: away, you dog!—Brave i’faith! Udsfoot, give me some meat.
Bell. Yes, sir. [Exit.
Mat. Goodman slave, my man too, is galloped to the devil a’ t’other side: Pacheco, I’ll checo you. Is this your dad’s day? England, they say, is the only hell for horses, and only paradise for women: pray get you to that paradise, because you’re called an honest whore; there they live none but honest whores with a pox. Marry here in our city, all your sex are but foot-cloth nags,[284] the master no sooner lights but the man leaps into the saddle.
Re-enter Bellafront with meat and drink.
Bell. Will you sit down I pray, sir?
Mat. [Sitting down.] I could tear, by th’ Lord, his flesh, and eat his midriff in salt, as I eat this:—must I choke—my father Friscobaldo, I shall make a pitiful hog-louse of you, Orlando, if you fall once into my fingers—Here’s the savourest meat! I ha’ got a stomach with chafing. What rogue should tell him of those two pedlars? A plague choke him, and gnaw him to the bare bones!—Come fill.
Bell. Thou sweatest with very anger, good sweet, vex not, as ’tis no fault of mine.