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Exe. This was a merry message.
Now all the youth of England are on fire
And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
O England! model to thy inward greatness,
What might'st thou do, that honour would thee do,
Nym. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. Bard. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
Nym. For my part, I care not: I say little; but when time shall serve there shall be smiles; but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one; but what though? it will toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man's sword will: and there's an end.
Bard. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends, and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it be so, good Corporal Nym.
Nym. Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the rendezvous of it.
Bard. It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly; and certainly she did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.
Nym. I cannot tell; things must be as they may men may sleep, and they may have their throats about them at that time; and some say knives have edges. It must be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.
Enter PISTOL and Hostess.
Bard. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol !
Pist. Base tike, call'st thou me host? 10 Now, by this hand I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
Host. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdyhouse straight. NYM and PISTOL draw.
O well-a-day, Lady! if he be not drawn now: we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. Bard. Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.
Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prickear'd cur of Iceland!
Host. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour and put up your sword.
Nym. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
Nym. I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms:
if you would walk off, I would prick your guts a little, in good terms, as I may; and that's the humour of it.
Pist. O braggart vile and damned furious wight! The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; Therefore exhale.
Bard. Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. Draws. Pist. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
Nym. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms; that is the humour of it.
Pist. Coupe la gorge!
That is the word. I thee defy again.
O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
And from the powdering-tub of infamy
Enter the Boy.
Boy. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and your hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he 's very ill.
Bard. Away, you rogue!
Host. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days. The king has killed his heart. Good husband, come home presently. Exeunt Hostess and Boy. Bard. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together. Why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another's throats? Pist. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food
Nym. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
Pist. Base is the slave that pays.
Nym. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.
Pist. As manhood shall compound: push home. They draw. Bard. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will. Pist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
Bard. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: an thou wilt not, why then, be enemies with me too. Prithee, put up.
Nym. I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?
Pist. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
Nym. I shall have my noble?
Nym. Well then, that's the humour of 't. 120
SCENE II-Southampton. A Council Chamber. Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND. Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold to trust these traitors.
Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by.
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Bed. The king hath note of all that they intend, By interception which they dream not of.
Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours,
And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts:
Think you not that the powers we bear with us Will cut their passage through the force of France,
Doing the execution and the act
For which we have in head assembled them? Scroop. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
K. Hen. I doubt not that; since we are well
We carry not a heart with us from hence
Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd and lov'd
Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Grey. True: those that were your father's enemies
Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve
K. Hen. We therefore have great cause of
And shall forget the office of our hand,
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
K. Hen. We judge no less.
Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature!
Scroop. That's mercy, but too much security: Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. K. Hen. O let us yet be merciful.
Cam. So may your highness, and yet punish That, though the truth of it stands off as gross As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. Treason and murder ever kept together,
too. Grey. Sir,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
You show great mercy, if you give him life,
K. Hen. Alas! your too much love and care
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear care
And tender preservation of our person,
French causes :
Who are the late commissioners?
From glistering semblances of piety;
Cam. I one, my lord:
Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.
K. Hen. Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge,
There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours:
What see you in those papers that you lose
Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you
K. Hen. The mercy that was quick in us but
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: 80
You know how apt our love was to accord
Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But O! What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel,
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. 120
Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family?
Ere. I arrest thee of high treason, by the
Richard Earl of Cambridge.
I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
Grey, knight, of Northumberland.
Scroop. Our purposes God justly hath dis-
And I repent my fault more than my death;
Cam. For me, the gold of France did not for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled seduce,
Although I did admit it as a motive
Grey. Never did faithful subject more rejoice At the discovery of most dangerous treason Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself, Prevented from a damned enterprise. My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. K. Hen. God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.
You have conspir'd against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers
Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
His princes and his peers to servitude,
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yearn therefore.
Bard. Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell!
Host. Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way;
of green fields. How now, Sir John!' quoth I: what, man! be o' good cheer.' So a' cried out God, God, God!' three or four times: now I, to comfort him, bid him a' should not think of God, I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and so upward, and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.
Nym. They say he cried out of sack.
Host. Ay, that a' did.
Bard. And of women.
Host. Nay, that a' did not.
Boy. Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils incarnate.
Host. A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked.
Boy. A' said once, the devil would have him about women.
Host. A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.
Boy. Do you not remember a' saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire?
Bard. Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that's all the riches I got in his service. Nym. Shall we shog the king will be gone from Southampton.
Pist. Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.
Look to my chattels and my moveables:
For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafercakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck:
Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
Pist. Touch her soft mouth, and march.
Flourish. Enter the French King, attended; the DAUPHIN, the Dukes of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and Others.
Fr. King. Thus comes the English with full power upon us;
And more than carefully it us concerns
Fr. King. Think we King Harry strong;
When Cressy battle fatally was struck,
Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of That shall be swallow'd in this controversy.
The patterns that by God and by French fathers
Enter a Messenger.
This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my
For the Dauphin,
I stand here for him: what to him from England?
Mess. Ambassadors from Harry King of Eng- And any thing that may not misbecome
Do crave admittance to your majesty.
Pr. King. We'll give them present audience.
Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords.
The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.