Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry V > Act II, scene III

	[Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy]

Hostess: Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.

PISTOL: No; for my manly heart doth yearn.
	Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:
	Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
	And we must yearn therefore.

BARDOLPH: Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in
	heaven or in hell!

Hostess: Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's
	bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made
	a finer end and went away an it had been any
	christom child; a' parted even just between twelve
	and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after
	I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with
	flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew
	there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as
	a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now,
	sir John!' quoth I	'what, man! be o' good
	cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or
	four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a'
	should not think of God; I hoped there was no need
	to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So
	a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my
	hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as
	cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and
	they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and
	upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

NYM: They say he cried out of sack.

Hostess: Ay, that a' did.

BARDOLPH: And of women.

Hostess: Nay, that a' did not.

Boy: Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils

Hostess: A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he
	never liked.

Boy: A' said once, the devil would have him about women.

Hostess: A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then
	he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.

Boy: Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon
	Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul
	burning in hell-fire?

BARDOLPH: Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire:
	that's all the riches I got in his service.

NYM: Shall we shog? the king will be gone from

PISTOL: Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.
	Look to my chattels and my movables:
	Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:'
	Trust none;
	For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
	And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck:
	Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.
	Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
	Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys,
	To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!

Boy: And that's but unwholesome food they say.

PISTOL: Touch her soft mouth, and march.

BARDOLPH: Farewell, hostess.

	[Kissing her]

NYM: I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu.

PISTOL: Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.

Hostess: Farewell; adieu.



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