SNARE.
It may chance cost some of our lives, for he will stab.
HOSTESS.
Alas the day, take heed of him. He stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly, in good faith. He cares not what mischief he does, if his weapon be out, he will foin like any devil. He will spare neither man, woman, nor child.
FANG.
If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
HOSTESS.
No, nor I neither. I’ll be at your elbow.
FANG.
An I but fist him once, an he come but within my vice,—
HOSTESS.
I am undone by his going, I warrant you, he’s an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure. Good Master Snare, let him not ’scape. He comes continuantly to Pie Corner—saving your manhoods—to buy a saddle, and he is indited to dinner to the Lubber’s Head in Lumbert Street, to Master Smooth’s the silkman. I pray you, since my exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear, and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing, unless a woman should be made an ass and a beast, to bear every knave’s wrong. Yonder he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices.
Enter Falstaff, Bardolph and Page.
FALSTAFF.
How now, whose mare’s dead? What’s the matter?
FANG.
Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.
FALSTAFF.
Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph! Cut me off the villain’s head. Throw the quean in the channel.