Act 5 - Scene 4

The palace yard.

Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man

Porter

You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: do you
take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude slaves,
leave your gaping.

Within

Good master porter, I belong to the larder.

Porter

Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! is
this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab- tree
staves, and strong ones: these are but switches to
'em. I'll scratch your heads: you must be seeing
christenings? do you look for ale and cakes here,
you rude rascals?

Man

Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible–
Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons–
To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
On May-day morning; which will never be:
We may as well push against Powle's, as stir em.

Porter

How got they in, and be hang'd?

Man

Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot–
You see the poor remainder–could distribute,
I made no spare, sir.

Porter

You did nothing, sir.

Man

I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again
And that I would not for a cow, God save her!

Within

Do you hear, master porter?

Porter

I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
Keep the door close, sirrah.

Man

What would you have me do?