SCENE III.
Quickly's house in Eastcheap.
Enter Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, Boy, and Quickly.
Quickly.
Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
-- 52 --
Pist.
No; for my manly heart doth yern.—
Bardolph, be blith;—Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins;
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yern 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 8 notefiner end, and went away, 9 note
an it had been
-- 53 --
any chrisom'd child; 'a parted even just between
twelve and one, e'en at 1 noteturning o'the tide: for
after I saw him 2 note
fumble with the sheets, and play
with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew
there was but one way3 note
; 4 note
for his nose was as sharp as
-- 54 --
a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, Sir
John? quoth I: what, man! be of good cheer. So
-- 55 --
'a cried out—God, God, God! three or four times:
now I, to comfort him, bid him 'a should not think
of God5 note; I hop'd, there was no need to trouble himself
with any such thoughts yet: So 'a bade me lay
more cloaths 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 6 note
cold as any stone.
-- 56 --
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 carnation; 'twas a
colour he never lik'd.
Boy.
'A said once, the devil would have him about
women.
Quick.
'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-fire?
Bard.
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.
Pist.
Come, let's away.—My love, give me thy lips.
Look to my chattels, and my moveables:
7 note
Let senses rule; the word is, 8 note
Pitch and pay;
-- 57 --
Trust none;
For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck;
9 note
Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor.
Go, 1 note
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!
-- 58 --
Boy.
And that is but unwholesome food, they say.
Pist.
Touch her soft mouth, and march.
Bard.
Farewel, hostess.
Nym.
I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but
adieu.
Pist.
Let housewif'ry appear; 2 note
keep close, I thee
command.
Quick.
Farewel; adieu.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
