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  • Title: Henry V (Quarto 1, 1600)
  • Editor: James D. Mardock

    • ISBN: 978-1-55058-409-7

    Copyright James D. Mardock. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: James D. Mardock
    Peer Reviewed

    Henry V (Quarto 1, 1600)

    Enter Nim, Pistoll, Bardolfe, Hostes and a Boy.
    Host. I prethy sweete heart, let me bring thee so farre as ( Stanes.
    824.1Pist. No fur, no fur.
    Bar. Well sir Iohn is gone. God be with him.
    Host. I, he is in Arthors bosom, if euer any were:
    He went away as if it were a crysombd childe,
    835Betweene twelue and one,
    Iust at turning of the tide:
    835.1His nose was as sharpe as a pen:
    For when I saw him fumble with the sheetes,
    And talk of floures, and smile vpō his fingers ends
    I knew there was no way but one.
    How now sir Iohn quoth I?
    And he cryed three times, God, God, God,
    Now I to comfort him, bad him not think of God,
    I hope there was no such need.
    Then he bad me put more cloathes at his feete:
    845And I felt to them, and they were as cold as any stone:
    And to his knees, and they were as cold as any stone.
    And so vpward, and vpward, and all was as cold as any stone.
    Nim. They say he cride out on Sack.
    Host. I that he did.
    850Boy. And of women.
    Host. No that he did not.
    Boy. Yes that he did: and he sed they were diuels incarnat.
    Host. Indeed carnation was a colour he neuer loued.
    854.1Nom. Well he did cry out on women.
    Host. Indeed he did in some sort handle women,
    But then he was rumaticke, and talkt of the whore of( Babylon.
    Boy. Hostes do you remember he saw a Flea stand
    Vpon Bardolfes Nose, and sed it was a black soule
    Burning in hell fire?
    Bar.
    of Henry the fift.
    862.1Bar. Well, God be with him,
    865That was all the wealth I got in his seruice.
    Nim. Shall we shog off?
    The king wil be gone from Southampton.
    Pist. Cleare vp thy cristalles,
    Looke to my chattels and my moueables.
    870Trust none: the word is pitch and pay:
    Mens words are wafer cakes,
    And hold fast is the only dog my deare.
    Therefore cophetua be thy counsellor,
    872.1Touch her soft lips and part.
    Bar. Farewell hostes.
    880Nim. I cannot kis: and theres the humor of it.
    But adieu.
    880.1Pist. Keepe fast thy buggle boe.
    Exit omnes.
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