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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 I.

London. Before Quickly's House in Eastcheap. Enter NYм and BARDOLph.

Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.

Nym. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph.
Bard. What, are ancient Pistol and you friends

yet?

Nym. For my part, I care not: I say little: but 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, that is the rendezvous of it.

4 Determination. '

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', call'st thou me -host? Now, by this hand I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

Quick. No, by my troth, not long : [NYм 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 murder committed. Good lieutenant Bardolph, - good corporal, offer nothing here. Nym. Pish!

Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou 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." Nym. I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to knock you indifferently well If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will

.5 Dog. 6 Par Dieu!

7 Name of a dæmon.

scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms: and that's the humour of it.

Pist. O braggard vile, and desp'rate furious wight!

The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; Therefore exhale." [PISTOL and NYм 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? defy again.

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- I thee

O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to

get?

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;

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- he is very sick, and

very

ill.

Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days: the king has killed 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, should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?

Pist. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

8 Breathe your last.

9 Blood hound.

I Formerly.

Nym. You'll pay me 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, an 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?

2

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.

2 A coin, value six shillings and eight-pence.

it

Nym. The king is a good king: but it must be as he may; 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. By heaven, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors.

Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by. 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 cloy'd and grac'd with princely fa

vours,

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;

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