Host.
I prethy sweete heart, let me bring thee so farre as Stanes.

Pist.
No fur, no fur.

Bar.
Well sir Iohn is gone. God be with him.

Host.
I, he is in Arthors bosom, if euer any were:
He went away as if it were a crysombd ^note childe,
Betweene twelue and one,
Iust at turning of the tide:
His nose was as sharpe as a pen:
For when I saw him fumble with the sheetes,
And talk of floures and smile vp&obar; his fingers ends
I knew there was no way but one.
How now sir Iohn quoth I?
And he cryed three times, God, God, God,
Now I to comfort him, bad him not think of God,
I hope there was no such need.
Then he bad me put more cloathes at ^note his feete:
And I felt to them, and they were as cold as any stone:
And to his knees, and they were as cold as any stone.
And so vpward, and vpward, and all was as cold as any ^note stone.

Nim.
They say he cride out on Sack.

Host.
I that he did.

Boy.
And of women.

Host.
No that he did not.

Boy.
Yes that he did: and he sed ^note they were diuels incarnat.

Host.
Indeed carnation was a colour he neuer loued.

Nim.
Well he did cry out on women.

Host.
Indeed he did in some sort handle women,
But then he was rumaticke, and talkt of the whore of Babylon.

Boy.
Hostes do you remember he saw a Flea stand
Vpon Bardolfes Nose, and sed it was a blacke soule
Burning in hell fire ^note?

Bar.
Well, God be with him,
That was all the wealth I got in his seruice.

Nim.
Shall we shog off?
The king wil be gone from Southampton.

Pist.
Cleare vp thy cristalles,
Looke to my chattels and my moueables.
Trust none: the word ^note is pitch and pay:
Mens words are wafer cakes,
And holdfast is the onely dog my deare.
Therefore cophetua be thy counsellor,
Touch her soft lips and part.

Bar.
Farewell hostes.

Nim.
I cannot kis: and theres the humor of it.
But adieu.

Pist.
Keepe fast thy buggle boe. Exit omnes.

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