Bard. Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt[3741]
him, sir, i' the shoulder.[3742]
Fal. A rascal! to brave me!200
Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape,
how thou sweatest! come, let me wipe thy face; come on,
you whoreson chops: ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee:[3743]
thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon,
and ten times better than the Nine Worthies: ah,[3744]205
villain![3744]
Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.[3745]
Dol. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll[3746][3747]
canvass thee between a pair of sheets.[3746]
Enter Music.
Page. The music is come, sir.210
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 church.[3748]
Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when[3749]215
wilt thou leave fighting o' days and foining o' nights, and[3750]
begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?
Enter, behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised.[3751]