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.

*

BARD. Here comes ancient Pistol, and his wife:-good corporal, be patient here.

Enter PISTOL and Hostess."

How now, mine host Pistol!

PIST. Base tike, call'st thou me-host? Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

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 bawdy-house straight. [NYM draws his sword.] 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.
NYM. Pish!d

PIST. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! (1) thou prick-ear'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.

PIST. Solus, egregious dog! O viper vile!

The solus in thy most marvellous face;

The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat,

[Sheathing his sword.

And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy;

And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!

I do retort the solus in thy bowels:

For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up,

And flashing fire will follow.

(*) First folio, name.

Hostess.] The old copies have "Quickly," but evidently through inadvertence, as she is always afterwards called "Hostess," which, or "Mistress Pistol," is now her proper appellation.

bO well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn! now we shall see, &c.] In the folio, "if he be not hewne now." The correction was made by Theobald.

66

Good lieutenant,-good corporal,-offer nothing here.] To obviate the inconsistency of Bardolph, himself the lieutenant, designating Pistol by that title, Capell prints, "Good ancient," and Malone makes the sentence a part of the Hostess's speech. This, however, is not the only anomaly of the same kind. In the opening of the present scene, Nym addresses Bardolph as lieutenant," while in Act III. Sc. 2, he calls him "corporal." Again, in the Second Part of "Henry IV." Act V. Sc. 5, Falstaff styles Pistol "lieutenant," though his military rank is only that of "ancient." Whether these incongruities are the effect of design or inattention on Shakespeare's part, (they could hardly arise from carelessness in the printing office,) it is now, perhaps, impossible to determine; we prefer therefore to adhere to the old text.

Pish! In the quartos "Push!" the older form of the same contemptuous exclamation. See note (*), p. 467, Vol. II.

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.

[PISTOL and NYM draw their swords. 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 his sword.

PIST. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;

Thy spirits are most tall.

NYM. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms; that is the humour of it.

PIST. Coupe le gorge!

That is the word?—I thee defy* again.

O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?

No; to the spital go,

And from the powdering-tub of infamy

Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,

Doll Tear-sheet she by name, and her espouse:

I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly

For the only she; and-Pauca, there's enough, to-
Go to.

Enter the Boy.

Boy. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master,-and you,† hostess; he is very sick, and would to bed.-Good Bardolph, put thy nose 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 days: the king has killed his heart. presently.

crow a pudding one of these Good husband, come home [Exeunt Hostess and Boy. friends? We must to France

BARD. Come, shall I make you two together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?

PIST. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

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.

[PISTOL and NYM draw their swords.

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. Pr'ythee, put up.

NYM. I shall have my eight shillings, I won of you at betting?a
PIST. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,

And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me;—
Is not this just?-for I shall sutler be

Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.

NYM. I shall have my noble?

PIST. In cash most justly paid.

NYM. Well then, that's the humour of it.

Re-enter Hostess.

HOST. As ever you came† of women, come in quickly to sir John: ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

NYM. The king hath run bad humours on the knight, that's the even of it.

PIST. Nym, thou hast spoke the right;

His heart is fracted, and corroborate.

NYM. The king is a good king, but it must be as it may; he passes some humours and careers.

PIST. Let us condole the knight,

For, lambkins, we will live.

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.

WEST. How smooth and even they do bear themselves!
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,

Crowned with faith, and constant loyalty.

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,

That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell

His sovereign's life to death and treachery!

[Exeunt.

Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, Lords, and Attendants.

K. HEN. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.

My lord of Cambridge,-and my kind lord of Masham,-
And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts:
Think you not, that the powers we bear with us,

(*) First folio, that.

(+) First folio, come.

NYM. I shall have my eight shillings, &c.] This speech is omitted in the folio. Dull'd and eloy'd-] So the folio, the quartos read, “cloy'd and grac'd.”

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 persuaded, We carry not a heart with us from hence,

That grows not in a fair concent with ours;

Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

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

Under the sweet shade of your government.

GREY. True: those that were your father's enemies Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

K. HEN. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness, And shall forget the office of our hand,

Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,

According to the weight and worthiness.

SCROOP. So service shall with steeled sinews toil, And labour shall refresh itself with hope,

To do your grace incessant services.

K. HEN. We judge no less.-Uncle of Exeter,
Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person: we consider,
It was excess of wine that set him on ;
And, on his more advice, we pardon him.

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 too.
GREY. Sir, you show great mercy, if you give him life,
After the taste of much correction.

K. HEN. Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.

If little faults, proceeding on distemper,

Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye,

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,

Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes;
Who are the late commissioners?

CAM.

I one, my lord;

our highness bade me ask for it to-day.

SCROOP. So did you me, my liege.

And, on his more advice.-] This is variously interpreted. We believe it to mean, on his further representations.

a

GREY. And me, my royal sovereign.

K. HEN. Then, Richard earl of Cambridge, there is yours ;-
There yours, lord Scroop of Masham ;-and, sir knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is

yours:

Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.
My lord of Westmoreland,-and uncle Exeter,

We will aboard to-night. Why, how now, gentlemen!
What see you in those papers, that you lose

So much complexion?-look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper.-Why, what read you there,
That hath so cowarded and chas'd your blood
Out of appearance?

CAM.

I do confess my fault; And do submit me to your highness' mercy. GREY. SCROOP. To which we all appeal.

K. HEN. The mercy, that was quick in us but late,
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:

You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
See you, my princes, and my noble peers,

These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge here,—
You know how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his honour; and this man
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd,
And sworn unto the practices of France,
To kill us here in Hampton: to the which,
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us

Than Cambridge is,-hath likewise sworn.-But, O!
What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop? thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature!
Thou, that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost mightst have coined me into gold,
Wouldst thou have practis'd on me for thy use?
May it be possible, that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil,
That might annoy my finger? 't is so strange,
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black from white,b my eye will scarcely see it.
Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a† natural cause,
That admiration did not whoopt at them:
But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in

(+) First folio, an.

(*) First folio, have. (1) First folio, hoope. And me, my royal sovereign.] The folio has, " And I," &c. The quarto,

my lord."

Black from white,-] So the quartos. The folio has "black and white."
A natural cause,-] Cause was probably a misprint for course.

"And me,