The Chronicle Historie
823449Enter Nim, Pistoll, Bardolfe, Hostes and a Boy.
824450Host. I prethy
sweete heart, let me bring thee
so farre as
( Stanes.
824.2453Bar. Well
sir
Iohn is gone. God be with him.
832454Host. I, he is in
Arthors bo
som, if euer any were:
834455He went away as if it were a cry
sombd childe,
835456Betweene twelue and one,
457Iu
st at turning of the tide:
835.1458His no
se was as
sharpe as a pen:
836459For when I
saw him fumble with the
sheetes,
837460And talk of
floures, and
smile vpō his
fingers ends
838461I knew there was no way but one.
839462How now
sir
Iohn quoth I?
841463And he cryed three times, God, God, God,
464Now I to comfort him, bad him not think of God,
842465I hope there was no
such need.
844466Then he bad me put more cloathes at his feete:
845467And I felt to them, and they were as cold as any
stone:
846468And to his knees, and they were as cold as any
stone.
847469And
so vpward, and vpward, and all was as cold as any
stone.
848470Nim. They
say he cride out on Sack.
851473Host. No that he did not.
852474Boy. Yes that he did: and he
sed they were diuels incarnat.
854475Host. Indeed carnation was a colour he neuer loued.
854.1476Nom. Well he did cry out on women.
858477Host. Indeed he did in
some
sort handle women,
859478But then he was rumaticke, and talkt of the whore of
( Babylon.
861480Boy. Ho
stes do you remember he
saw a Flea
stand
862481Vpon
Bardolfes No
se, and
sed it was a black
soule
Bar.