| ACT II | PROLOGUE | |
| | Enter Chorus | |
| Chorus | 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: | 5 |
| | 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 | 10 |
| | With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, | |
| | Promised to Harry and his followers. | |
| | The French, advised by good intelligence | |
| | Of this most dreadful preparation, | |
| | Shake in their fear and with pale policy | 15 |
| | Seek to divert the English purposes. | |
| | O England! model to thy inward greatness, | |
| | Like little body with a mighty heart, | |
| | What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, | |
| | Were all thy children kind and natural! | 20 |
| | But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out | |
| | A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills | |
| | With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, | |
| | One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, | |
| | Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, | 25 |
| | Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, | |
| | Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! | |
| | Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; | |
| | And by their hands this grace of kings must die, | |
| | If hell and treason hold their promises, | 30 |
| | Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. | |
| | Linger your patience on; and we'll digest | |
| | The abuse of distance; force a play: | |
| | The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; | |
| | The king is set from London; and the scene | 35 |
| | Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; | |
| | There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: | |
| | And thence to France shall we convey you safe, | |
| | And bring you back, charming the narrow seas | |
| | To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, | 40 |
| | We'll not offend one stomach with our play. | |
| | But, till the king come forth, and not till then, | |
| | Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. | |
| | Exit | |
| ACT II SCENE I | London. A street. | |
| | Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH | |
| BARDOLPH | Well met, Corporal Nym. | 45 |
| NYM | Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. | |
| BARDOLPH | 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 | 50 |
| |
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. | |
| BARDOLPH | I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and | 55 |
| | 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 | 60 |
| | rendezvous of it. | |
| BARDOLPH | 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 | 65 |
| | 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. | 70 |
| | Enter PISTOL and Hostess | |
| BARDOLPH | Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good | |
| | corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! | |
| PISTOL | Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, | |
| | I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. | |
| Hostess | No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and | 75 |
| | 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 and PISTOL draw | |
| | O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we | |
| | shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. | 80 |
| BARDOLPH | Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. | |
| NYM | Pish! | |
| PISTOL | Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! | |
| Hostess | Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. | |
| NYM | Will you shog off? I would have you solus. | 85 |
| PISTOL | 'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! | |
| | The 'solus' in thy most mervailous 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! | 90 |
| | 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 | 95 |
| | 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. | |
| PISTOL | O braggart vile and damned furious wight! | 100 |
| | The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; | |
| | Therefore exhale. | |
| BARDOLPH | 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 | |
| PISTOL | An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. | 105 |
| | 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. | |
| PISTOL | 'Couple a gorge!' | 110 |
| | 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, | 115 |
| | Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: | |
| | I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly | |
| | For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. 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. | 120 |
| | Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and | |
| | do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. | |
| BARDOLPH | Away, you rogue! | |
| Hostess | By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of | |
| | these days. The king has killed his heart. Good | 125 |
| | husband, come home presently. | |
| | Exeunt Hostess and Boy | |
| BARDOLPH | 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? | |
| PISTOL | Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! | 130 |
| NYM | You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? | |
| PISTOL | Base is the slave that pays. | |
| NYM | That now I will have: that's the humour of it. | |
| PISTOL | As manhood shall compound: push home. | |
| | They draw | |
| BARDOLPH | By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll | 135 |
| | kill him; by this sword, I will. | |
| PISTOL | Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. | |
| BARDOLPH | Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: | |
| | an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. | |
| | Prithee, put up. | 140 |
| NYM | I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? | |
| PISTOL | 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; | 145 |
| | 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? | |
| PISTOL | In cash most justly paid. | 150 |
| NYM | Well, then, that's the humour of't. | |
| | Re-enter Hostess | |
| Hostess | 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. | 155 |
| NYM | The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's | |
| | the even of it. | |
| PISTOL | 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; | 160 |
| | he passes some humours and careers. | |
| PISTOL | Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. Exeunt | |
