• Enter BEADLES, dragging in MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET

    MISTRESS QUICKLY

    No, thou arrant knave. I would to God that I might die, that
    I might have thee hanged. Thou hast drawn my shoulder out
    of joint.

    FIRST BEADLE

    The Constables have delivered her over to me, and she shall
    5have whipping cheer enough, I warrant her. There hath been
    a man or two lately killed about her.

    DOLL TEARSHEET

    Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie! Come on, I ’ll tell thee what,
    thou damned tripe-visaged rascal: an the child I now go with
    do miscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother,
    10thou paper-faced villain.

    MISTRESS QUICKLY

    O the Lord, that Sir John were come! I would make this a
    bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her
    womb might miscarry.

    FIRST BEADLE

    If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have
    15but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me, for the
    man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.

    DOLL TEARSHEET

    I’ll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you
    as soundly swinged for this, you bluebottle rogue, you filthy
    famished correctioner. If you be not swinged, I’ll forswear
    20half-kirtles.

    FIRST BEADLE

    Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.
  • BEADLES enter, dragging DOLL TEARSHEET and MISTRESS QUICKLY.

    MISTRESS QUICKLY

    No, you horrible rogue! I wish to God I were dead, so I could have you hanged. You dislocated my shoulder!

    FIRST BEADLE

    The street cops handed her over to me, and she’ll be whipped through and through, I promise. She’s been involved in a couple of murders.

    DOLL TEARSHEET

    Pig, Pig! You lie! Come on! I’ll tell you what, you damned flabby-faced moron: if I have a miscarriage now, you’ll wish you’d hit your own mother, you pasty-faced villain!

    MISTRESS QUICKLY

    Oh God, I wish Sir John would come! He’d make somebody bleed for this. I pray to God that she has a miscarriage!

    FIRST BEADLE

    Well, if she does, you’ll have twelve cushions on your couch again. You have only eleven now, since she’s wearing one of them under her dress. I order both of you to come with me: the man that you two and Pistol beat up is dead.

    DOLL TEARSHEET

    I’ll tell you what, you stick-figure; I’ll have you beaten soundly for this. You blue-coated rogue, you filthy, starving correctioner! If you aren’t walloped for this, I’ll swear off skirts.

    FIRST BEADLE

    Come on, come on, you little night sinner, come on.