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Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;
And by their hands this grace of kings must die
(If hell and treason hold their promises),
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on; and well digest

The abuse of distance, while we force* a play.
The sum is paid ; the traitors are agreed;
The king is set from London; and the scene
Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton :.
There is the playhouse now, there must you sit:
And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
But, till the king come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.

[Exit.
SCENE 1.-The same. Eastcheap.

Enter Ny and BARDOLPH.
Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.
Nym. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph.
Bard. What, are ancient Pistol and you frienas yet ?

Nym. For my part, care not: I say little : þut when time shall serve, there shall be smiles;- but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and hold out mine iron: It is a simple one: but what though it will toast cheese; and it will endure cold as another man's sword will: and there's the humour of it.

Bard. I will bestow a breakfast, to make you friends, and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France; let it be so, good corporal Nym.

Nym. 'Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may: that is my rest,t that is the rendezvous of it.

Bard. It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly : and, certainly, she did you wrong; for you were troth-plight to her.

Nym. I cannot tell; things must be as they may: men may sleep, and they may have their throats about them at that time; and some say, knives have edges. It must be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.

Enter PISTOL and Mrs. QUICKLY.
Bard. Here comes ancient Pistol, and his wife:-good corporal,
be patient here.--How now, mine host Pistol ?

Pist. Base tike, I call'st thou me-host ?
Now, by this hand I swear, I scorn the term;
Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
* I.e. by compressing events. + Resolution.

Clown.

Quick. No, by my troth, not long: for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen, that live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy. house straight. [Nyw draws his sword.] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! O Lord! here's corporal Nym's-now shall we have wilful adultery and murder committed. Good lieutenant Bardolph,-good corporal, offer nothing here.

Nym. Pish!

Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prickeared cur of Iceland!

Quick. Good corporal Nym, show the valour of a man, and put up thy sword. Nym. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

[Sheathing his sword. Pist. Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile! The solus in thy most marvellous face; The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat, And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy ;* And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! I do retort the solus in thy bowels : For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, And flashing fire will follow.

Nym. I am not Barbason ;t you cannot conjure me. I have a humour to knock you indifferently well: If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk off, I would prick your guts a little, in good terms, as I may; and that's the humour of it.

Pist. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight! The grave doth gape, and doting death is near ; Therefore exhale. I

[Pistol and Nym draw. Bard. Hear me, hear me what I say :-he that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. [Draws.

Pist. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
Thy spirits are most tall.

Nym. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms; that is the humour of it.

Pist. Coup le gorge, that's the word ?-I thee defy again.
O hound of Crete, s think'st thou my spouse to get ?
No; to the 'spital go,
And from the powdering tub of infamy
Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
Doll Tear-sheet she by name, and her espouse:
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly,
For the only she; and-Pauca, there's enough.

Enter the Boy. Boy. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, -and you, hostess ;– he is very sick, and would

to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy nose between his sheets, and do the office of a warmingpan: 'faith he's very ill.

* Par Dieu !
• Breathe your last.

+ The name of a demon.

Blood-hound.

Bard. Away, you rogue.

Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days: the king has kill'd his heart.-Good husband, come home presently.

[Exeunt Mrs. QUICKLY and Boy. Bard. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together; Why, the devil, should we keep knives to eut one another's throats ?

Pist. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! Nym. You'll payme the eight shillings I won of you at betting ? Pist. Base is the slave that pays. Nym. That now I will have; that's the humour of it. Pist. As manhood shall compound; Push home. Bard. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will.

Pist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

Bard. Corporal Nym, and thou wilt be friends, be friends: an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too.' Pr’ythee, put up. Nym. I shall have my eight shillings, I won of you at betting.

Pist. A noble* shalt thou have, and present pay;
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood :
I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me ;-
Is not this just for I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.

Nym. I shall have my noble ?
Pist. In cash most justly paid.
Nym. Well then, that's the humour of it.

Re-enter Mrs. QUICKLY. Quick. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John: Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

Nym. The king hath run bad humours on the knight, that's the even of it.

Pist. Nym, thou hast spoke the right; His heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nym. The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; he passes some humours, and careers. Pist. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.--Southampton. A council-chamber.

Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND. Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. Exe. They shall be apprehended by-and-by.

* A coin, in value six shillings and eight pence.

West. How smooth and even they do bear themselves !
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.

Bed. The king hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.

Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
Whom he hath cloyd and graced with princely favours,-
That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
His sovereign’s life to death and treachery!
Trumpet sounds. Enter KING HENRY, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE,

GREY, Lords, and Attendants.
K. Hen. Now, sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My lord of Cambridge, -and my kind lord of Masham,-
And you my gentle knight,—give me your thoughts:
Think you not, that the powers we bear with us,
Will cut their passage through the force of France;
Doing the execution, and the act,
For which we have in head* assembled them?

Scroop. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
K. Hen. I doubt not that: since we are well persuaded,
We carry not a heart with us from hence,
That grows not in a fair consent with ours;
Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd and loved,
Than is your majesty; there's not, I think, a subject,
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.

Grey. Even those that were your father's enemies,
Have steep'd their galls in honey; and do serve you
With hearts create7 of duty and of zeal.

K. Hen. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness;
And shall forget the office of our hand,
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,
According to the weight and worthiness.

Scroop. So service shall with steeled sinews toil;
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
To do your grace incessant services.

K. Šen. We judge no less.—Uncle of Exeter,
Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person : we consider,
It was excess of wine that set him on;
And, on his more advice, I we pardon him.

Scroop. That's mercy, but too much security :
Let him be punish’d, sovereign ; lest example
Breed,

by his sufferance, more of such a kind. K. Hen. O, let us yet be merciful. Cam. So may your highness, and yet punish too.

Grey. Sir, you show great mercy, if you give him life, After the taste of much correction. * Force. + Compounded.

# Coming to his senses.

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K. Hen. Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.
If little faults, proceeding on distemper,*
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye,
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
Appear before us ?- We'll yet enlarge that man,
Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey,–in their dear care,
And tender preservation of our person,

Would have him punish’d. And now to our French causes; Who are the latef commissioners ?

Cam. I one, my lord ;
Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.

Scroop. So did you me, my liege.
Grey. And me, my royal sovereign.
K. Hen. Then, Richard, earl of Cambridge, there is yours ;-
There yours, lord Scroop, of Masham ;-and, Sir knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours :-
Read them;

and know, I know your worthiness.
My lord of Westmoreland, -and uncle Exeter,-
We will aboard to-night.-Why, how now, gentlemen ?
What see you in those papers, that you lose
So much complexion ?-look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper.-Why, what read you there,
That hath so cowarded and chased your blood
Out of appearance ?

Cam. I do confess my fault;
And do submit me to your highness' mercy.

Grey, Scroop. To which we all appeal.

K. Žen. The mercy, that was quickțin us but late,
By your own counsel is suppress'd and killd :
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy ;
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying them.“
See you, my princes, and my noble peers,
These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge here,-
You know, how apt our love was, to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his honour; and this man
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired,
And sworn unto the practices of France,
To kill us here in Hampton: to the which,
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is,-hath likewise sworn-But Oh!
What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop; thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature !
Thou that didst

bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,
Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use?
May it be possible, that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil,

.* Disorder from wine.

† Lately appointed.

# Living

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