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And we must earn therefore.

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 ev'n just

between twelve and one, ev'n at the turning o' th' tide; for

after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers,

and smile upon his fingers' end, I knew there was but one way;

for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbl'd 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

hop'd

there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.

So 'a bade 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 so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

NYM.

They say he cried out of sack.

HOSTESS.

Ay, that 'a did.

BARDOLPH.

And of women.

HOSTESS.

Nay, that 'a did not.

BOY.

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 talk'd 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?

BARDOLPH.

Well, the fuel is gone that maintain'd 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 chattles and my moveables;

Let senses rule. The word is 'Pitch and Pay.'

Trust none;

For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,

And Holdfast is the only dog, my duck.

Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.

Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,

Let us to France, like horse-leeches, my boys,

To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck.

BOY.

And that's but unwholesome food, they say.

PISTOL.

Touch her soft mouth and march.

BARDOLPH.

Farewell, hostess. [Kissing her]

NYM.

I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but adieu.

PISTOL.

Let housewifery appear; keep close, I thee command.

HOSTESS.

Farewell; adieu. Exeunt

SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace

Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES OF BERRI and BRITAINE, the CONSTABLE, and others

FRENCH 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 Britaine,

Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,

And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch,

To line and new repair our towns of war

With men of courage and with means defendant;

For England his approaches makes as fierce

As waters to the sucking of a gulf.

It fits us, then, to be as provident

As fear may teach us, out of late examples

Left by the fatal and neglected English

Upon our fields.

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;

For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd,

Her sceptre so fantastically borne

By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,

That fear attends her not.

CONSTABLE.

O peace, Prince Dauphin!

You are too much mistaken in this king.

Question your Grace the late ambassadors

With what great state