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_ ACT II. SCENE I.
London. Before the Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap.
[Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH.]
BARDOLPH.
Well met, Corporal Nym.
CORPORAL NYM.
Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
BARDOLPH.
What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
CORPORAL 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 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 Nym.
CORPORAL 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.
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.
CORPORAL 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 HOSTESS]
BARDOLPH.
Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good
Corporal, be patient here.
CORPORAL NYM.
How now, mine host Pistol!
PISTOL.
Base tike, call'st thou me host?
Now by this hand, 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. [Nym draws] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn!
Now we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.
BARDOLPH.
Good Lieutenant, good Corporal, offer nothing here.
CORPORAL NYM.
Pish!
PISTOL.
Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland!
HOSTESS.
Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.
CORPORAL NYM.
Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
PISTOL.
'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!
The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face;
The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy;
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.
CORPORAL 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 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 thaes the humour of it.
PISTOL.
O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
The grave doth gape and doting death is near;
Therefore exhale.
[PISTOL draws]
BARDOLPH.
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]
PISTOL.
An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
[PISTOL and Nym sheathe their swords]
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
Thy spirits are most tall.
CORPORAL NYM.
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.
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
For the only she; and- pauca, there's enough.
Go to.
[Enter the Boy]
BOY.
Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master; and your
hostess- he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph,
put thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a
warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill.
BARDOLPH.
Away, you rogue.
HOSTESS.
By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these
days: the King has kill'd his heart. Good husband, come home
presently.
[Exeunt HOSTESS and BOY]
BARDOLPH.
Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France
together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one
another's throats?
PISTOL.
Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
CORPORAL NYM.
You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
PISTOL.
Base is the slave that pays.
CORPORAL NYM.
That now I will have; that's the humour of it.
PISTOL.
As manhood shall compound: push home.
[PISTOL and Nym draw]
BARDOLPH.
By this sword, he that makes the first thrust I'll
kill him; by this sword, I will.
PISTOL.
Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
[Sheathes his sword]
BARDOLPH.
Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends; an
thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prithee put up.
CORPORAL NYM.
I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?
PISTOL.
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.
CORPORAL NYM.
[Sheathing his sword]
I shall have my noble?
PISTOL.
In cash most justly paid.
CORPORAL NYM.
[Shaking hands]
Well, then, that's the humour of't.
[Re-enter HOSTESS]
HOSTESS.
As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John.
Ah, poor heart! he is so shak'd of a burning quotidian tertian
that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.
CORPORAL NYM.
The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that's the
even of it.
PISTOL.
Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
His heart is fracted and corroborate.
CORPORAL NYM.
The King is a good king, but it must be as it may; he
passes some humours and careers.
PISTOL.
Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.
[Exeunt.] _
Read next: ACT II: SCENE II
Read previous: ACT II PROLOGUE
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