King Henry V · William Shakespeare
SCENE I.--FRANCE IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF TROYES.
_Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER, L.H._ _Gow._ Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today? Saint Davy's day is past. _Flu._ There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, as my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol,--he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek: it was in a place where I could not preed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. _Enter PISTOL, R.H._ _Gow._ Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock. _Flu._ 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.--Heaven pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, Heaven pless you! _Pist._ Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?[1] Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek. [_Crosses to L.H._ _Flu._ I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.
_Pist._ (_crosses to R.H._) Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. _Flu._ There is one goat for you. [_Strikes him._ Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it? _Pist._ Base Trojan, thou shalt die. _Flu._ You say very true, scald knave, when Heaven's will is: I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: come, there is sauce for it. (_Striking him again._) You called me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree.[2] I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. _Gow._ Enough, captain: you have astonished him.[3] _Flu._ I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days.--Pite, I pray you; it is goot for you. _Pist._ Must I bite? _Flu._ Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities. _Pist._ By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat, and eke I swear---- _Flu._ Eat, I pray you: Will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by. _Pist._ Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat. _Flu._ Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them; that is all.
_Pist._ Good. _Flu._ Ay, leeks is goot:--Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate. _Pist._ Me a groat! _Flu._ Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat. _Pist._ I take thy groat in earnest of revenge. _Flu._ If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels. Heaven be wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate. [_Exit L.H._ _Pist._ (_crosses to L.H.) All hell shall stir for this. [_Crosses to R.H._ _Gow._ Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition,--begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour,--and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking[4] and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel: you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition.[5] Fare ye well. [_Exit, L.H._ _Pist._ Doth fortune play the huswife[6] with me now? Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs Honour is cudgell'd. To England will I steal: And patches will I get unto these scars, And swear, I got them in the Gallia wars. [_Exit, R.H._ [Footnote V.1: _To have me fold up, &c._] Dost thou desire to have me put thee to death.] [Footnote V.2: _----a squire of low degree._] That is, _I will bring thee to the ground._] [Footnote V.3: _----astonished him._] That is, you have stunned him with the blow.]
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.