They sell the pasture now to buy the horse,

Following the mirror of all Christian kings

With winged heels, as English Mercuries.

For now sits expectation in the air

And hides a sword from hilts unto the point

With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets,

Promised to Harry and his followers.

The French, advised by good intelligence

Of this most dreadful preparation,

Shake in their fear, and with pale policy

Seek to divert the English purposes.

O England!—model to thy inward greatness,

Like little body with a mighty heart,

What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do,

Were all thy children kind and natural?

But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out:

A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills

With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men—

One, Richard, Earl of Cambridge; and the second

Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham; and the third

Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland—

Have, for the gilt of France—O guilt indeed!—

Confirmed conspiracy with fearful France;

And by their hands this grace of kings must die,

If hell and treason hold their promises,

Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.

Linger your patience on, and we’ll digest

Th’abuse of distance, force—perforce—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

2.1 Enter Corporal Nim and Lieutenant Bardolph

BARDOLPH Well met, Corporal Nim.

NIM Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

BARDOLPH What, are Ensign Pistol and you friends yet?

NIM 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 an end.

BARDOLPH I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends, and we’ll be all three sworn brothers to France. Let’t be so, good Corporal Nim.

NIM 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.

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.

NIM 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 Ensign Pistol and Hostess Quickly

BARDOLPH Good morrow, Ensign Pistol. (To Nim) Here comes Ensign Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be patient here.

⌈NIM⌉ How now, mine host Pistol?

PISTOL

Base tick, call’st thou me host? Now by Gad’s lugs

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. ⌈Nim draws his sword⌉ O well-a-day, Lady! If he be not hewn now, we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. 36 ⌈Pistol draws his sword⌉

BARDOLPH Good lieutenant, good corporal, offer nothing here.

NIM Pish.

PISTOL

Pish for thee, Iceland dog. Thou prick-eared cur of

Iceland.

HOSTESS Good Corporal Nim, show thy valour, and put

up your sword.

They sheathe their swords

NIM Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

PISTOL

‘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 pardie—

And which is worse, within thy nasty mouth.

I do retort the solus in thy bowels,

For I can take, and Pistol’s cock is up,

And flashing fire will follow.

NIM 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 scour you with 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.

PISTOL

O braggart vile, and damned furious wight!

The grave doth gape and doting death is near.

Therefore ex-hale.

Pistol and Nim draw their swords

BARDOLPH Hear me, hear me what I say.

⌈He draws his sword⌉

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.

⌈They sheathe their swords⌉

(To Nim) Give me thy fist, thy forefoot to me give. 65

Thy spirits are most tall.

NIM I will cut thy throat one time or other, in fair terms, that is the humour of it.

PISTOL Couple a gorge,

That is the word. I thee defy again.

O hound of Crete, think‘st thou my spouse to get?

No, to the spital go,

And from the powd’ring tub of infamy

Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid’s kind,

Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse.