King Henry V | Page 8

will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.
[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 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.
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.
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!
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.
PISTOL.
O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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.
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!"
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 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. 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 kill'd his heart.
Good 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!

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 kill

him; by this sword, I will.
PISTOL.
Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
BARDOLPH.
Corporal Nym, and thou wilt be friends, be friends; an

thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. Prithee,
put up.
NYM.
I shall have my eight shillings I won from 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.
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.
NYM.
Well, then, that's the humour of't.
[Re-enter Hostess.]
HOSTESS.
As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir
John.
Ah, poor heart! he is so shak'd 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.
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; he
passes
some humours and careers.
PISTOL.
Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber.
[Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmoreland.]
BEDFORD.
'Fore God, his Grace is bold, to trust these traitors.
EXETER.
They shall be apprehended by and by.
WESTMORELAND.
How smooth and even they do bear
themselves!
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat
Crowned with faith
and constant loyalty.
BEDFORD.
The King hath note of all that