Grey. Never did faithful subject more rejoice At the discovery of most dangerous treason Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself, Prevented from a damned enterprise. My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. K. Hen. God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. You have conspired against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, His princes and his peers to servitude, Our puissance into the hand of God, [Exeunt. SCENE III. London. Before a Tavern Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Host. Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. Pist. 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. Bard. Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell! Host. 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 com fort him, bid him a' should not think of God, I Nym. They say he cried out of sack. Host. Nay, that a' did not. Boy. Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils incarnate. Host. A' could never abide carnation; 't was a colour he never liked. Boy. A' said once, the devil would have him about women. Host. 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? Bard. 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. Pist. Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. Look to my chattels and my moveables: Let senses rule, the word is 'Pitch and pay ;' For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, Boy. And that's but unwholesome food, they say. Pist. Touch her soft mouth, and march. [Kisses her. Nym. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; 'but adieu. Pist. Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. Host. Farewell; adieu. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. France. An Apartment in the Flourish. Enter the French King, attended; the DAUPHIN, the Dukes of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others. Fr. King. 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 Dau. 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, Therefore, I say 't is meet we all go forth No, with no more than if we heard that England Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd Her sceptre so fantastically borne By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, Con. O peace, Prince Dauphin ! |