Quickly, Nym, Bardolph, and Boy.
Quick.
Pry'thee, honey-sweet husband, let me
bring thee to Staines1 note
.
Pist.
No; for my manly heart doth yearn.—
-- 316 --
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!
Quick.
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 end3 note
, and went away, an it had been
any christom child4 note
; 'a parted even just between
-- 317 --
twelve and one, e'en at turning o' the tide5 note: for
after I saw him fumble with the sheets6 note
, and play
-- 318 --
with flowers, and smile upon his finger's ends, I
knew there was but one way7 note
; for his nose was as
sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields8 note
.
-- 319 --
How now, sir John? quoth I: what, man! be of
good cheer. So 'a cried out—God, God, God!
-- 320 --
three or four times: now I, to comfort him, bid
him, 'a should not think of God9 note
; I hoped, 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 stone1 note
.
-- 321 --
Nym.
They say, he cried out of sack.
Quick.
Ay, that 'a did.
Bard.
And of women.
Quick.
Nay, that 'a did not.
Boy.
Yes, that 'a did; and said, they were devils incarnate.
Quick.
'A could never abide carnation2 note
; 'twas a
colour he never liked.
Boy.
'A said once, the devil would have him
about women.
-- 322 --
Quick.
'A did in some sort, indeed, handle women:
but then he was rheumatick3 note; 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 off; 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 rule4 note
; the word is, Pitch and pay5 note
;
Trust none;
-- 323 --
For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog6 note, my duck;
Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor7 note
.
Go, clear thy chrystals8 note
.—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 is but unwholesome food, they say,
Pist.
Touch her soft mouth, and march.
-- 324 --
Bard.
Farewell, hostess.
[Kissing her.
Nym.
I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it;
but adieu.
Pist.
Let housewifery appear; keep close9 note
, I thee command.
Quick.
Farewell; adieu.
[Exeunt.
-- 325 --
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
