SCENE II.
Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.
Bard.
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the
breach!
Nym.
'Pray thee, 8 notecorporal, stay; the knocks are
too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not 9 notea case
-- 70 --
of lives: 9Q0782 the humour of it is too hot, that is the
very plain-song of it.
Pist.
The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound;
Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,
In bloody field,
Doth win immortal fame.
Boy.
'Would I were in an ale-house in London! I
would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.
Pist.
And I:
1 noteIf wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hye.
Boy.
2 noteAs duly, but not as truly, as bird doth sing
on bough.
Enter Fluellen. 9Q0783
Flu.
'Splood!—Up to the preaches3 note, you rascals!
will you not up to the preaches?
Pist.
Be merciful, great duke, 4 noteto men of mould!
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage! use lenity, sweet chuck!
Nym.
These be good humours!—your honour wins
bad humours.
[Exeunt.
-- 71 --
Boy.
As young as I am, I have observ'd these three
swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they
three, though they would serve me, could not be man
to me; for, indeed, three such anticks do not amount
to a man. For Bardolph,—he is white-liver'd, and
red-fac'd; by the means whereof, 'a faces it out, but
fights not. For Pistol,—he hath a killing tongue, and
a quiet sword; by the means whereof 'a breaks words,
and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,—he hath heard,
that men of few words are the 5 notebest men; and therefore
he scorns to say his prayers, left 'a should be
thought a coward: but his few bad words are match'd
with as few good deeds; for 'a never broke any man's
head but his own; and that was against a post, when
he was drunk. They will steal any thing, and call it—
purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case; bore it twelve
leagues, and sold it for three half-pence. Nym, and
Bardolph, are sworn brothers in filching; and in Calais
they stole a fire-shovel: I knew, by that piece of service,
6 note
the men would carry coals. They would have
me as familiar with men's pockets, as their gloves or
their handkerchiefs: which makes much against my
manhood, if I should take from another's pocket, to
put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of
wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some better
service: their villainy goes against my weak stomach,
and therefore I must cast it up.
[Exit Boy.
-- 72 --
Re-enter Fluellen, Gower following.
Gower.
Captain Fluellen, you must come presently
to the mines; the duke of Gloster would speak
with you.
Flu.
To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so
good to come to the mines: For, look you, the mines
are not according to the disciplines of the war; the
concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, th'
athversary (you may discuss unto the duke, look you)
7 noteis digt himself four yards under the countermines:
by Cheshu, I think, 'a 8 notewill plow up all, if there is
not better directions.
Gower.
The duke of Gloster, to whom the order
of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irishman;
a very valiant gentleman, i'faith.
Flu.
It is captain Macmorris, is it not?
Gower.
I think, it be.
Flu.
By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the 'orld: I
will verify as much in his peard: he has no more
directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look you,
of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.
Enter Macmorris, and captain Jamy.
Gower.
Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, captain
Jamy, with him.
Flu.
Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman,
that is certain; and of great expedition, and
knowledge, in the ancient wars, upon my particular
knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will maintain
his argument as well as any military man in the
'orld, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the
Romans.
-- 73 --
Jamy.
I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen.
Flu.
God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy.
Gower.
How now, captain Macmorris? have you
quit the mines? have the pioneers given o'er?
Mac.
By Chrish la, tish ill done: the work ish give
over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand,
I swear, and by my father's soul, the work ish ill
done; it ish give over: I would have blowed up the
town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O tish ill
done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, I peseech you now, will
you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with
you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines
of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument,
look you, and friendly communication; partly, to satisfy
my opinion, and partly, for the satisfaction, look
you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the
military discipline; that is the point.
Jamy.
It fall be very gud, gud feith, gud captains
bath: and 9 noteI sall quit you with gud leve, as I may
pick occasion; that sall I, marry.
Mac.
It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me:
the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the
king, and the dukes; it is no time to discourse. The
town is beseech'd, and the trumpet calls us to the
breach; and we talk, and, by Chrish, do nothing; 'tis
shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand
still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is throats
to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing
done, so Chrish sa' me, la.
Jamy.
By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take
themselves to slumber, aile do gud service, or aile ligge
i'the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and aile pay
it as valorously as I may, that sal I surely do, that is
-- 74 --
the breff and the long: Mary, I wad full fain heard
some question 'tween you tway.
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under
your correction, there is not many of your nation—
Mac.
Of my nation? What ish my nation? ish a
villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal?
What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?
Flu.
Look you, if you take the matter otherwise
than is meant, captain Macmorris, peradventure, I
shall think you do not use me with that affability as in
discretion you ought to use me, look you; being as
goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of wars,
and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.
Mac.
I do not know you so good a man as myself:
so Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
Gower.
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each
other.
Jamy.
Au! that's a foul fault.
[A parley sounded.
Gower.
The town sounds a parley.
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, when there is more better
opportunity to be requir'd, look you, I will be so bold
as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war; and
there's an end1 note.
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].
