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. Pift. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight! The grave doth gape, and doating death is near; Therefore exhale. Bard. Hear me, hear me, what I fay: he that ftrikes the firft ftroke, I'll run him up to the hilts as I am a foldier. Pist. An Oath of mickle might; and fury fhall abate. Give me thy fift, thy fore-foot to me give: Thy fpirits are most tall. Nim. I will cut thy throat one time or other in fair erms, that is the humour of it. Pift. Coupe à gorge, that is the word. I defy thee again. O hound of Crete, think'st thou my fpoufe to get? No, to the fpittle go. And from the powd'ring tub of infamy Fetch forth the lazar Kite of Creffid's kind, Boy. Mine hoft Pistol, you must come to my mafter, and your hoftefs: he is very fick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy nofe between his fheets, and do the office of a warming-pan: faith, he's very ill. Bard. Away, you rogue. Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the Crow a pudding one of thefe days; the King has kill'd his heart. Good husband, come home prefently. [Exit Quickly. Bard. Come, fhall I make you two friends? we muft to France together: why the devil fhould we keep knives to cut one another's throats? Pift. Let floods o'er-fwell, and fiends for food howl on! Nim. You'll pay me the eight fhillings, I won of you at betting? Pifl. Bafe is the flave, that pays. Nim. That now I will have; that's the humour of it. Pift. As manhood fhall compound, pufh home. [Draw. Bard. By this fword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this fword, I will. Pift. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. Bard. Corporal Nim, an thou wilt be friends, be friends; an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too; pr'ythee, put up. Pift. A noble fhalt thou have and prefent pay; And friendship fhall combine and brotherhood. Nim. I fhall have my noble? Nim. Well then, that's the humour of t. Re-enter Quickly. Quick. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John: ah, poor heart, he is so fhak'd of a burning quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him. Nim. The King hath run bad humours on the Knight, that's the even of it. Pift. Nim, thou haft spoken the right, his heart is fracted and corroborate. Nim. The King is a good King, but it must be as it may; he pafles fome humours and careers. Pift. Let us condole the Knight; for, lambkins! we will live. L 4 [Exeunt. ACT * ACT II. SCENE I. Chorus. Enter CHORUS. NOW OW all the youth of England are on fire, And hides a fword from hilts unto the point The French, advis'd by good intelligence Shake in their fear; and with pale policy O England! model to thy inward greatness, What might'ft thou do, that honour would thee do, But fee, thy fault France hath in thee found out; A neft of hollow bofoms which he fills With treach'rous crowns; and three corrupted men, ACT II. SCENE I.] I have divided the Ads of this Play See the Note on A& IV. Mr. Pope. Confirm'd confpiracy with fearful France: Ere He take ship for France; and in Southampton. SOUTHAMPTON. Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmorland. [Exit. Bed. 'TORE God, his Grace is bold to truft these 'FORE traitors. Exe. They fhall be apprehended by and by. Weft. How fmooth and even they do bear themselves, As if allegiance in their bofoms fat, Crowned with faith and conftant 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 lull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours; That he should for a foreign purse so sell His Sovereign's life to death and treachery! [Trumpets found. Enter the King, Scroop, Cambridge, Grey, and Atten dants. K. Henry. Now fits the wind fair, and we will aboard. My lord of Cambridge, and my lord of Masham, * For which we have in aid affembled them? fuaded, We carry not a heart with us from hence, Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd, and lov`d, Under the sweet shade of your government. Grey. True; thofe, that were your father's enemies Have fteept their gauls in honey, and do ferve you With hearts create of duty and of zeal. K. Henry. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; And fhall forget the office of our hand, K. Henry. We judge no lefs. Uncle of Exeter, That rail'd againft our perfon: we confider, It was excefs of wine that fet him on, And on his more advice we pardon him. For which we have in head affembled them?] This is not an English Phrafeology. I am perfuaded Shakespear wrote, For which we have in Aid affembled them? alluding to the Tenures of thofe Times. Mr. Warburton. Scroop. |