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Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,-
As many several ways meet in one town;
K. Hen. Call in the messengers sent from the
Exit an Attendant. The King as-
Now are we well resolv'd: and,by God's help;
Not worship'd with a waxen epitaph.—
Enter Ambassadors of France.
Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
Freely to render what we have in charge;
Unto whose grace our passion is as subject,
Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
Your highness, lately sending into France,
In answer of which claim, the prince our master
Exe. Tennis-balls, my liege.
K. Hen. We are glad the Dauphin is so plea sant with us;
His present, and your pains, we thank you for:
That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands;
Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles
And some are yet ungotten, and unborn,
But this lies all within the will of God,
Convey them with safe conduct.-Fare you well.
That may give furtherance to our expedition :
More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
Chor. Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man : They sell the pasture now, to buy the horse; Following the mirror of all Christian kings With winged heels, as English Mercuries. For now sits Expectation in the air; And hides a sword, from hilts unto the point, With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets, Promis'd to Harry, and his followers. The French, advis'd by good intelligence Of this most dreadful preparation, Shake in their fear; and with pale policy Seek to divert the English purposes. O England!-model to thy inward greatness, Like little body with a mighty heart,What might'st thou do, that honour would thee do,
Were all thy children kind and natural !
One, Richard earl of Cambridge; and the second,
SCENE I.-The same. Eastcheap.
Enter NYм and BARDOLPH. Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.
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 the humour of it.
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 thei 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 Mrs QUICKLY.
Bard. Here comes ancient Pistol, and hi wife :-good corporal, be patient here.― 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.
Quick. No, by my troth, not long: for w cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gen tlewomen, that live honestly by the prick o their needles, but it will be thought we keep bawdy-house straight. [Nym draws his sword.] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn now O Lord! here's corporal Nym's-now shall w have wilful adultery and murder committed Good lieutenant Bardolph,-good corporal, off nothing here.
Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick eared cur of Iceland!
Quick. Good corporal Nym, show the valo of a man, and put up thy sword.
Nym. Will you shog off? I would have yo [Sheathing his swor
Pist. Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile! The solus in thy most marvellous face; The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat, 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.
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.
Fist. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight!
The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; Therefore exhale. [Pistol and Nym draw. 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 le gorge, that's the word ?-I thee defy again.
Ohound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
And from the powdering tub of infamy
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. Quick. 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 Mrs Quickly 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 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. 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?
Pist. Anoble shalt thou have, and present pay;
Nym. I shall have my noble?
Quick. 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. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Southampton. A council-chamber. Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORE
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,
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 cloy'd and grac'd with princely favours,
That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
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, Will cut their passage through the force of France;
Doing the execution, and the act,
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
Than is your majesty; there's not, I think, a
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Have steep'd their galls in honey; and do serve you
K. Hen. We therefore have great cause of
And shall forget the office of our hand,
K. Hen. We judge no less.-Uncle of Exeter,
After the taste of much correction.
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,
There yours, lord Scroop of Masham ;-and, sir
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours :—
What see you in those papers, that you lose
That hath so cowarded and chas'd your blood
Cam. I do confess my fault;
And do submit me to your highness' mercy.
K. Hen. The mercy, that was quick in us but
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd :
You know, how apt our love was, to accord
What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop; thou cruel,
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil,
Would have him punish'd. And now to our H'ath got the voice in hell for excellence:
Who are the late commissioners?
Cam. I one, my lord;
Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.
K. Hen. Then, Richard, earl of Cambridge,
there is yours;—
And other devils, that suggest by treasons,
With patches, colours, and with forms being
From glistering semblances of piety;
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
Why, so didst thou: Come they of noble family?
I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry lord Scroop of Masham.
I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland. Scroop. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd;
And I repent my fault, more than my death;
Although I did admit it as a motive,
You have conspir'd against our royal person,
Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
His princes and his peers to servitude,
We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence,
SCENE III.-London. Mrs Quickly's house in Eastcheap.
Enter PISTOL, Mrs QUICKLY, NYM, BAR-
Quick. Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
Pist. No; for my manly heart doth yearn.Bardolph, be blithe;-Ným, rouse thy vaunting veins;
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!
Quick. 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, e'en at 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; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, sir John? quoth I: what, man! be of 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.
Quick. Nay, that 'a did not.
Boy. Yes, that 'a did; and said, they were devils incarnate.
Quick. 'A could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked.