Bard. It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell
Quickly: and, certainly, she did you wrong; for you were
troth-plight to her.
Nym. I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men20
may sleep, and they may have their throats about them at[4661]
that time; and some say knives have edges. It must be
as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet she will[4662]
plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.
Enter Pistol and Hostess.[4663]
Bard. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good25
corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!
Pist. Base tike, call'st thou me host?[4664][4665]
Now, by this hand, I swear, I scorn the term;[4665]
Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.[4665]
Host. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge30
and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live
honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought
we keep a bawdy house straight. [Nym and Pistol draw.][4666]
O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we shall see[4667]
wilful adultery and murder committed.35
Bard. Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing[4668]
here.
Nym. Pish![4669]
Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland![4670]
Host. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put[4671]40
up your sword.