Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Henry V (Modern, Quarto)
  • 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 (Modern, Quarto)

    504.1[Scene 2]
    505Enter Nym and Bardolph.
    Good morrow, Corporal Nym.
    Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
    What, is Ancient Pistol and thee friends yet?
    I cannot tell; things must be as they may: I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? It will serve to toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man's sword will, and there's the humor of it.
    I'faith, Mistress Quickly did thee great wrong, for thou wert troth-plight to her.
    I must do as I may. Though patience be a tired mare, yet she'll plod, and some say knives have edges, 525and men may sleep, and have their throats about them at that time, and there is the humor of it.
    Come, i'faith, I'll bestow a breakfast to make Pistol and thee friends. 590What a plague should we carry knives to cut our own throats?
    I'faith, I'll live as long as I may, that's the certain of it. And when I cannot live any longer, I'll do 520as I may, and there's my rest, and the rendezvous of it.
    530Enter Pistol and Hostess[, formerly Mistress] Quickly, his wife.
    Good morrow, Ancient Pistol. Here comes ancient Pistol; I prithee, Nym, be quiet.
    How do you, my host?
    Base slave, call'st thou me host? Now by 535Gad's lugs I swear I scorn the title, nor shall my Nell keep lodging.
    No, by my troth not I, for we cannot bed nor board half a score honest gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needle, but it is 540thought straight we keep a bawdy-house.
    [Nym draws his sword.]
    540.1O Lord, here's Corporal Nym's! Now shall we have willful adultery and murder committed. Good Corporal Nym, show the valor of a man and put up your sword.
    What dost thou push, thou prick-eared cur of Iceland?
    Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
    "Solus," egregious dog? That "solus" in thy throat, and in thy lungs, and which is worse, within thy messful mouth! I do retort that "solus" in thy bowels, and in thy jaw, perdie: for I can talk, and 555Pistol's flashing fiery cock is up.
    I am not Barbasom; you cannot conjure me. I have an humor, Pistol, to knock you indifferently well. An you fall foul with me, Pistol, I'll scour you with my rapier in fair terms. If you will walk 560off a little, I'll prick your guts a little in good terms, and there's the humor of it.
    O braggart vile, and damnèd furious wight, the grave doth gape, and groaning death is near, therefore exhale.
    564.1They draw.
    Hear me: he that strikes the first blow, I'll kill him, as I am a soldier.
    An oath of mickle might, and fury shall abate.
    [They sheathe their swords.]
    I'll cut your throat at one time or another in fair terms, and there's the humor of it.
    Couple gorge is the word; I thee defy again! A damnèd hound, think'st thou my spouse to get? 575No! To 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 Paco! There, it is enough.
    580Enter the Boy.
    Hostess, you must come straight to my master, and you, Host Pistol. -- Good Bardolph, put thy nose between the sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan.
    By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days. I'll go to him. Husband, you'll come?
    [Exeunt Boy and Hostess.]
    Come, Pistol, be friends. Nym, prithee be friends. An if thou wilt not, be enemies with me too.
    [To Pistol] I shall have my eight shillings I won of you 595at beating?
    Base is the slave that pays.
    That now I will have, and there's the humor of it.
    As manhood shall compound.
    They draw [their swords].
    [Drawing his sword] He that strikes the first blow, 600I'll kill him, by this sword.
    Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
    [Sheathes his sword.]
    I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at beating?
    A noble shalt thou have, and ready pay, and liquor likewise will give to thee, and friendship shall combind, and brotherhood. I'll live by Nym as Nym shall live by me: is not this just? For I shall sutler be unto the camp, and profit will accrue.
    I shall have my noble?
    In cash most truly paid.
    Why there's the humor of it.
    Enter Hostess.
    As ever you came of men, come in. Sir John, poor soul, is so troubled with a burning tashan contigian fever, 'tis wonderful.
    Let us condole the knight, for lambkins, we will live.
    625.1Exeunt omnes.