Act 5 - Scene 1
France. The English camp.
Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER
Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today?
Saint Davy's day is past.
There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in
all things: I will tell you, asse my friend,
Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly,
lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and
yourself and all the world
know to be no petter
than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is
come to me and prings me pread
and salt yesterday,
look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in place
where I could not breed no contention
with him; but
I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see
him once again, and then I will tell him a
piece of my desires.
Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his
turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you
knave, God pless you!
Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
Hence! I am
qualmish at the smell of leek.
I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my
desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat,
you, this leek: because, look you, you do not
love it, nor your affections and your appetites and
doo's not agree with it, I would
desire you to eat it.
Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
There is one goat for you.
Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?
Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
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