Truepenny. Ah, whoresons!
C. Custance. Well done, indeed!
M. Merry. Hold thine own, Harpax! Down with them, Dobinet!
C. Custance. Now, Madge; there, Annot; now stick them, Tibet!
Tib. Talk. All my chief quarrel is to this same little knave,
That beguiled me last day; nothing shall him save.
D. Dough. Down with this little quean, that hath at me such spite!
Save you from her, master, it is a very sprite.
C. Custance. I myself will mounsire grand captain undertake.