Quickly.
Quick.
Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
Pist.
No, for my manly heart doth yern.
Bardolph, be blith. Nim, rouze thy vaunting vein.
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yern therefore.
-- 396 --
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. He made
a 7 notefiner end, and went away, an it had been any chrisom
child6Q0159. A' parted even just between twelve and one,
even at the 8 noteturning o'th' tide. For after I saw him
fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and
smile upon his finger's end, I knew there was but one
way; 9 note
for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a'
babled of green fields. How now, Sir John? quoth
I; what, man? be of 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;
-- 397 --
I hop'd, there was no need to trouble himself with
any such thoughts yet. So a' bade me lay more cloathes
on his feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them,
and they were as cold as a stone; then I felt to his
knees, and so upward, and upward, and all was as
1 note
cold as any stone.
Nim.
They say, he cried out of Sack.
Quick.
Ay, and that a' did.
Bard.
And of women.
Quick.
Nay, that a' did not.
Boy.
Yes, that he did; and said, they were devils
incarnate.
Quick.
A' could never abide carnation, 'twas a colour
he never lik'd.
Boy.
He said once, the deule would have him about
women.
-- 398 --
Quick.
He did in some sort, indeed, handle women;
but then he was rheumatick, and talk'd of the whore
of Babylon.
Boy.
Do you not remember, he saw a Flea stick
upon Bardolph's nose, and said, it was a black soul
burning in hell?
Bard.
Well, the fuel is gone, that maintain'd that
fire. That's all the riches I got in his service.
Nim.
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.—
2 note
Let senses rule—The word is, * notepitch and pay;
Trust none, for oaths are straws; men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog, my Duck;
Therefore Caveto be thy counsellor.
Go, clear thy† note 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 is but unwholsome food, they say.
Pist.
Touch her soft mouth and march.
Bard.
Farewel, hostess.
Nim.
I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but
adieu.
Pist.
Let housewifery appear; keep close, I thee
command.
Quick.
Farewel; adieu.
[Exeunt.
-- 399 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
