No Fear Shakespeare: Henry IV Part 2: Act 5 Scene 4

Original Text	Modern Text
Enter BEADLES, dragging in MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET	BEADLES beadles = parish officers BEADLES enter, dragging DOLL TEARSHEET and MISTRESS QUICKLY.
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.	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 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.	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 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.	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 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.	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 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.	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 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.	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, come, you she knight-errant, come.	FIRST BEADLE Come on, come on, you little night sinner, come on.