would fight; yea
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower,--
That mint.
That columbine.
Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.
Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks,
beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed,
he was a man. But I will forward with my device.
Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.
Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.
I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Loves her by the foot,--
He may not by the yard.
This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,--
The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she
is two months on her way.
What meanest thou?
Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor
wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in
her belly already: tis yours.
Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt
die.
Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is
quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by
him.
Most rare Pompey!
Renowned Pompey!
Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey!
Pompey the Huge!
Hector trembles.
Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them
on! stir them on!
Hector will challenge him.
Ay, if a' have no man's blood in's belly than will
sup a flea.
By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man:
I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you,
let me borrow my arms again.
Room for the incensed Worthies!
I'll do it in my shirt.
Most resolute Pompey!
Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you
not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean
you? You will lose your reputation.
Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat
in my shirt.
You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
What reason have you for't?
The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go
woolward for penance.
True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of
linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but
a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that a' wears next
his heart for a favour.
God save you, madam!
Welcome, Mercade;
But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue