| ACT II SCENE III | London. Before a tavern. | |
| | Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy | |
| Hostess | Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. | |
| PISTOL | No; for my manly heart doth yearn. | |
| | Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: | |
| | Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, | 5 |
| | And we must yearn therefore. | |
| BARDOLPH | Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in | |
| | heaven or in hell! | |
| Hostess | Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's | |
| | bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made | 10 |
| | 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 | 15 |
| | 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 o' good | |
| | cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or | |
| | four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' | 20 |
| | 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 | 25 |
| | they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and | |
| | upward, and all was as cold as any stone. | |
| NYM | They say he cried out of sack. | |
| Hostess | Ay, that a' did. | |
| BARDOLPH | And of women. | 30 |
| Hostess | Nay, that a' did not. | |
| Boy | Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils | |
| | incarnate. | |
| Hostess | A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he | |
| | never liked. | 35 |
| Boy | A' said once, the devil would have him about women. | |
| Hostess | 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 | 40 |
| | burning in hell-fire? | |
| BARDOLPH | 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. | 45 |
| PISTOL | Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. | |
| | Look to my chattels and my movables: | |
| | Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' | |
| | Trust none; | |
| | For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, | 50 |
| | And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: | |
| | Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. | |
| | Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, | |
| | Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, | |
| | To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! | 55 |
| Boy | And that's but unwholesome food they say. | |
| PISTOL | Touch her soft mouth, and march. | |
| BARDOLPH | Farewell, hostess. | |
| | Kissing her | |
| NYM | I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. | |
| PISTOL | Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. | 60 |
| Hostess | Farewell; adieu. | |
| | Exeunt | |
