SCENE I.-London. Eastcheap. Enter, severally, NYм and BARDOLPH. BARD. Well met, corporal Nym. NYM. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph. BARD. What, are ancient Pistol and you friends yet? NYм. 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." And there's an end.] The quartos read, "And there's the humour of it." b And we'll be all three sworn brothers-] See note (a), p. 484, Vol. I. 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. NYм. 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! -host? PIST. Base tike, call'st thou me— 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. [NYм draws his sword.] O wella-day, Lady, if he be not drawn! now we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. b BARD. Good lieutenant,-good corporal,-offer nothing here. NYM. Pish!d PIST. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! (1) 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. [Sheathing his sword. PIST. Solus, egregious dog! O viper vile! And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy; 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 NYм 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. a 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. b O 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. e 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 "lieu Bor. 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 warmingpan: '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 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 NYм 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. (+) First folio, your. (*) First folio, defy thee. tenant," 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. d Pish!] In the quartos "Push!" the older form of the same contemptuous exclamation. See note (a), p. 731, Vol. I. 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; NYM. I shall have my noble? NYM. Well then, that's the humour of it. WEST. How smooth and even they do bear As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, BED. The king hath note of all that they intend, 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 Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY, SCROOP, K. HEN. Now sits the wind fair, and we will My lord of Cambridge,-and my kind lord of And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: 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. That rail'd against our person: we consider, CAM. So may your highness, and yet punish too. After the taste of much correction. K. HEN. Alas, your too much love and care of me Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch. Appear before us!-We'll yet enlarge that man, And tender preservation of our person, causes; Who are the late commissioners? САМ. I one, my lord; K. HEN. Then, Richard earl of Cambridge, There yours, lord Scroop of Masham ;—and, sir knight, CAM. Never was monarch better fear'd and Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: 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 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, SCROOP. So service shall with steeled sinews And labour shall refresh itself with hope, K. HEN. We judge no less.-Uncle of Exeter, a Dull'd and cloy'd-] So the folio; the quartos read, “cloy'd and grac'd. b And, on his more advice,-] This is variously interpreted. We believe it to mean, on his further representations. Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. What see you in those papers, that you lose That hath so cowarded and chas'd your blood CAM. K. HEN. The mercy, that was quick in us but By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: (*) First folio, hare. e And me, my royal sovereign.] The folio has, "And I," &c. The quarto," And me, my lord." These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge here,― You know how apt our love was to accord Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd, With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd с But he that temper'd thee, bade thee stand up, learned? Free from gross passion, or of mirth or anger, EXE. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard earl of Cambridge. 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 dis- And I repent my fault more than my death; CAM. For me, the gold of France did not Although I did admit it as a motive The sooner to effect what I intended: GREY. Never did faithful subject more rejoice your sentence. You have conspir'd against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers |