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- Edition: Henry V
Henry V (Modern, Folio)
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822.1[2.3]
823Enter Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostess.
Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring 825thee to Staines.
No, for my manly heart doth earn. Bardolph, 827be blithe. Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins. Boy, bristle 828thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead, and we must 829earn therefore.
Would I were with him wheresome'er he is, 831either in heaven or in hell.
Nay, sure he's not in hell. He's in 833Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A made 834a finer end, and went away an it had been any christom 835child. A parted ev'n just between twelve and one, ev'n 836at the turning o'th'tide. For after I saw him 837fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon 838his finger's end, I knew there was but one way. For his nose was 839as sharp as a pen, and a babbled of green fields. "How now, 840Sir John?" quoth I. "What, man, be o' good cheer!" So a 841cried out, "God, God, God," three or four times. Now I, 842to comfort him, bid him a should not think of God; I 843hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any 844such thoughts yet. So a bade me lay more clothes on his 845feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they 846were as cold as any stone. Then I felt to his knees, and 847so up-peered, and upward and all was as cold as any stone.
They say he cried out of sack.
Ay, that a did.
And of women.
Nay, that a did not.
Yes, that a did, and said they were devils 853incarnate.
A could never abide carnation; 'twas a 855color he never liked.
A said once the devil would have him about 857women.
A did in some sort, indeed, handle women, 859but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.860
Do you not remember a saw a flea stick upon 862Bardolph's nose, and a said it was a black soul 863burning in hell?
Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire. 865That's all the riches I got in his service.
Shall we shog? The king will be gone from 867Southampton.
Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. [Kisses her]869Look to my chattels and my moveables. Let senses rule. 870The world is pitch-and-pay. Trust none, for oaths 871are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, and Holdfast 872is the only dog, my duck, therefore caveto be 873thy counselor. Go, clear thy crystals. 874Yoke-fellows in arms, let us to France like 875horse-leeches, my boys: to suck, to suck, the very blood to 876suck!
And that's but unwholesome food, they say.
Touch her soft mouth and march.
[Kisses her] Farewell, hostess.
I cannot kiss, that is the humor of it, but 881adieu.
Let housewifery appear. Keep close, I thee 883command.
Farewell. Adieu.
Exeunt.