London. A street.
BARDOLPH Well met, Corporal Nym.
NYM Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
BARDOLPH What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
NYM For my part, I care not: I say little;
but when time shall serve…
BARDOLPH 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 Well, I cannot tell.
BARDOLPH 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 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. Well, I
cannot tell.
[Enter PISTOL and Hostess]
BARDOLPH Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good
corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!
PISTOL Base tike, call’st thou me host? Now, by this hand,
I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
Hostess 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.
[NYM and PISTOL draw]
PISTOL O hound of Crete, think’st thou my spouse to get?
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
and there’s enough. Go to.
NYM I would prick your guts a little,
and that’s the humour of it.
Hostess O well a day, Lady, we shall see
wilful adultery and murder committed.
BARDOLPH Good lieutenant!
good corporal! offer nothing here.
NYM Pish!
PISTOL Pish for thee, Iceland dog!
thou prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!
Hostess Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour,
and put up your sword.
NYM I will cut thy throat,
one time or other, in fair terms.
PISTOL I can take, and Pistol’s cock is up,
And flashing fire will follow.
BARDOLPH 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.
PISTOL An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
[Enter 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 face between his sheets, and
do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he’s very ill.
BARDOLPH Away, you rogue!
Hostess By my troth, the king has killed his heart.
Good husband, come home presently.
[Exeunt Hostess and Boy]
BARDOLPH Come, shall I make you two friends?
We must to France together: why the devil should
we keep knives to cut one another’s throats?
PISTOL Let floods o’erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
NYM You’ll pay me the eight shillings
I won of you at betting?
PISTOL Base is the slave that pays.
NYM That now I will have: that’s the humour of it.
PISTOL As manhood shall compound: push home.
[They draw]
BARDOLPH By this sword,
he that makes the first thrust,
I’ll kill him; by this sword, I will.
PISTOL Sword is an oath,
and oaths must have their course.
BARDOLPH Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends,
be friends: an thou wilt not, why, then,
be enemies with me too. Prithee, put up
[Re-enter Hostess]
Hostess 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.
PISTOL Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
His heart is fractured and corrupted
NYM The king is a good king: but it must be
as it may; he passes some humours and careers.
PISTOL Let us condole the knight;
for, lambkins we will live.