Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: James D. Mardock
Peer Reviewed

Henry V (Folio 1, 1623)


Enter Pistoll, Nim, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostesse.
Hostesse. 'Prythee honey sweet Husband, let me bring
825thee to Staines.
Pistoll. No: for my manly heart doth erne. Bardolph,
be blythe: Nim, rowse thy vaunting Veines: Boy, brissle
thy Courage vp: for Falstaffe hee is dead, and wee must
erne therefore.
830Bard. Would I were with him, wheresomere hee is,
eyther in Heauen, or in Hell.
Hostesse. Nay sure, hee's not in Hell: hee's in Arthurs
Bosome, if euer man went to Arthurs Bosome: a made a
finer end, and went away and it had beene any Christome
835Child: a parted eu'n iust betweene Twelue and One, eu'n
at the turning o'th'Tyde: for after I saw him fumble with
the Sheets, and play with Flowers, and smile vpon his fin-
gers end, I knew there was but one way: for his Nose was
as sharpe as a Pen, and a Table of greene fields. How now
840Sir Iohn (quoth I?) what man? be a good cheare: so a
cryed out, God, God, God, three or foure times: now I,
to comfort him, bid him a should not thinke of God; I
hop'd there was no neede to trouble himselfe with any
such thoughts yet: so a bad me lay more Clothes on his
845feet: 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
vp-peer'd, and vpward, and all was as cold as any stone.
Nim. They say he cryed out of Sack.
Hostesse. I, that a did.
850Bard. And of Women.
Hostesse. Nay, that a did not.
Boy. Yes that a did, and said they were Deules incar-
nate.
Woman. A could neuer abide Carnation, 'twas a Co-
855lour he neuer lik'd.
Boy. A said once, the Deule would haue him about
Women.
Hostesse. A did in some sort (indeed) handle Women:
but then hee was rumatique, and talk'd of the Whore of
860Babylon.
Boy. Doe you not remember a saw a Flea sticke vpon
Bardolphs Nose, and a said it was a blacke Soule burning
in Hell.
Bard. Well, the fuell is gone that maintain'd that fire:
865that's all the Riches I got in his seruice.
Nim. Shall wee shogg? the King will be gone from
Southampton.
Pist. Come, let's away. My Loue, giue me thy Lippes:
Looke to my Chattels, and my Moueables: Let Sences
870rule: The world is, Pitch and pay: trust none: for Oathes
are Strawes, mens Faiths are Wafer-Cakes, and hold-fast
is the onely Dogge: My Ducke, therefore Caueto bee
thy Counsailor. Goe, cleare thy Chrystalls. Yoke-
fellowes in Armes, let vs to France, like Horse-
875leeches my Boyes, to sucke, to sucke, the very blood to
sucke.
Boy. And that's but vnwholesome food, they say.
Pist. Touch her soft mouth and march.
Bard. Farwell Hostesse.
880Nim. I cannot kisse, that is the humor of it: but
adieu.
Pist. Let Huswiferie appeare: keepe close, I thee
command.
Hostesse. Farwell: adieu.
Exeunt