Poor miserable wretches, to your death: (Exeunt Cambridge, Scroop, & Grey, guarded.) Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver Putting it straight in expedition. Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France. (Exeunt.) SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. 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:- 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' bad 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. Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils incarnate. 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 Southampton. 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 straw, men's faiths are wafer-cakes Go, clear thy crystals.-Yoke-fellows in arms, BOY. And that's but unwholesome food, they say. PISTOL. Touch her soft mouth, and march. BARDOLPH. Farewell, hostess. NYM. (Kissing her.) I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. PISTOL. Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. HOSTESS. Farewell; adieu. (Exeunt.) Flourish. Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes of Berri and SCENE IV. France. The king's palace. Thus comes the English with full power upon us! And more than carefully it us concerns To answer royally in our defences. Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, It fits us then to be as provident As fear may teach us out of late examples DAUPHIN. My most redoubted father, It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, But that defences, musters, preparations, Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, As were a war in expectation. Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth To view the sick and feeble parts of France: And let us do it with no show of fear; No, with no more than if we heard that England Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, CONSTABLE. Oh, peace, Prince Dauphin! You are too much mistaken in this king: Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; FRENCH KING. Think we King Harry strong; And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; The patterns that by God and by French fathers Of that victorious stock; and let us fear The native mightiness and fate of him. (Enter a Messenger.) MESSENGER. Ambassadors from Harry King of England FRENCH KING. We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. (Exeunt Messenger & certain Lords.) You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. DAUPHIN. Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten Of what a monarchy you are the head: As self-neglecting. (Re-enter Lords, with Exeter & train.) FRENCH KING. EXETER. From our brother England? From him; and thus he greets your majesty. Unto the crown of France. That you may know Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, Or else what follows? |