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ACT I
Sc. II

His present and your pains we thank you for:
When we have match'd our rackets1 to these balls,
We will in France, by God's grace, play a set1
Shall strike1 his father's Crown into the hazard.1
Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
That all the courts1 of France will be disturb'd
With chaces.1 And we understand him well,
How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
Not measuring what use we made of them.
We never valued this poor Seat2 of England;
And therefore, living hence,3 did give ourself
To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common
That men are merriest when they are from home.
But tell the Dolphin I will keep my State,
Be like a King, and shew my sail of greatness
When I do rouse me in my Throne of France :
For that I have laid by my Majesty,
And plodded like a man for working-days;
But I will rise there with so full a glory

That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,

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Yea, strike the Dolphin blind to look on us.
And tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his
Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his Soul
Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance
That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands;
Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;
And some are yet ungotten and unborn,
That shall have cause to curse the Dolphin's scorn.
But this lies all within the will of God,

To Whom I do appeal; and in Whose name,
Tell
you the Dolphin, I am coming on,

To venge me as I may, and to put forth

My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.

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So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dolphin
His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.
Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.
[Exeunt Ambassadors.

EXE. This was a merry message.

all terms at tennis.

2 Throne.

si.e. from the place of the Throne; the Court.

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K. HEN. We hope to make the sender blush at it.
Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy hour
That may give furtherance to our expedition;
For we have now no thought in us but France,
Save those to God that run before our business.
Therefore let our proportions1 for these wars
Be soon collected, and all things thought upon
That may with reasonable swiftness add
More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
We'll chide2 this Dolphin at his father's door.
Therefore let every man now task his thought,
That this fair action may on foot be brought.
[exeunt. Flourish.

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ACT II

Flourish. Enter Chorus.

CHOR. Now all the Youth of England are on fire,
And silken Dalliance in the wardrobe lies:
Now thrive the Armourers, and Honour's thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every man :
They sell the pasture now to buy the horse;
Following the mirror of all Christian Kings
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now sits Expectation in the air,
And hides a Sword from hilts unto the point
With Crowns Imperial, Crowns, and Coronets
Promis'd to Harry and his followers.
The French, advis'd by good intelligence"

Of this most dreadful preparation,

Shake in their fear, and with pale policy

Seek to divert the English purposes.

O England! model to thy inward greatness,

Like little body with a mighty heart,

What might'st thou do, that Honour would thee do,*
Were all thy children kind and natural!

But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills

essential musters and accumulations. 2 scold, punish. 3 spying.

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4 = thou did.

ACT I

Sc. II

ACT II With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men:
One, Richard Earl of Cambridge; and the second,
Henry Lord Scroop of Masham; and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey, Knight, of Northumberland :
Have for the gilt1 of France (O guilt indeed!)
Confirm'd' conspiracy with fearful3 France;
And by their hands this grace of Kings must die,
If Hell and Treason hold their promises,
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on, and well digest
The abuse of distance, while we farce a play.
The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
The King is set from London; and the scene
Is now transported, Gentles, to Southampton.
There is the Playhouse now, there must you sit :
And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
And bring you back, charming the Narrow Seas
To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
We'll not offend one stomach' with our Play.
But, till the King come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.

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[exit.

SCENE I. London. A Street.

Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH. BARD. Well met, Corporal Nym.

NYM. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

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BARD. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
NYм. For my part, I care not: I say little; but, when
time shall serve, there shall be smiles: but that shall
be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and
hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but what
though? it will toast cheese, and it will endure cold
as another man's sword will: and there's an end.
BARD. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends;
and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let 't
be so, good Corporal Nym.

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NYM. Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I

1 i.c. gold. 2 solemnly entered into. 3 affrighted. 4 ornament.

6 i.e. the Channel.

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5 stuff out.

7 i.e. our Play, o'erleaping space, shall make none sea-sick. 8 shut mine eyes.

will die as I may: that is my rest,' that is the rendez- ACT II vous of it.

BARD. It is certain, Corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly and, certainly, she did you wrong; for you were troth-plight to her.

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NYм. I cannot tell things must be as they may: men
may sleep, and they may have their throats about them
at that time; and some say knives have edges. It
must be as it may: though Patience be a tir'd mare,
yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well,
I cannot tell.

BARD. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good
Corporal, be patient here.

Enter PISTOL and the Hostess.

How now, mine Host Pistol!

PIST. Base Tike,3 call'st thou me Host?

Sc. I

Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;
Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.*

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HOST. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen, that live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy-house straight. [NYM draws.] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn! [PISTOL draws.] Now we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. Good Lieutenant Bardolph, good Corporal, offer nothing here. [They put up. NYM. Pish!

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PIST. Pish for thee, Iceland Dog! thou prick-ear'd' Cur

of Iceland!

HOST. Good Corporal Nym, shew thy valour, and put up your sword.

NYм. Will you shog off?" I would have you solus.

PIST. Solus, egregious Dog? O Viper vile!

The solus in thy most mervailous face;

The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat,

And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy,"

And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!

I do retort the solus in thy bowels;

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1 (slang) 'last pitch'=all I have; with a play on the common sense of the word which (naturally) brings on the 'rendez-vous' of the final clause.

2 get forward.

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ACT II
Sc. I

For I can take,' and Pistol's cock is up,

And flashing fire will follow.

NYM. I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk off, I would prick your guts a little, in good terms, as I may and that's the humour of it.

PIST. O Braggart vile, and damned furious Wight!

The Grave doth gape, and doating Death is near;
Therefore exhale.3

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[They draw.

BARD. Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes
the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a
soldier.
[draws.

PIST. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give:

Thy spirits are most tall.

NYM. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair

terms: that is the humour of it.

PIST. Couple a* gorge!

That is the word. I thee defy again.

O Hound of Crete, think'st thou my Spouse to get?

No; to the 'Spital go,

And from the powdering-tub of infamy

Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse:

I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
For the only She; and Pauca, there's enough.
Go to.

Enter the Boy.

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Boy. Mine Host Pistol, you must come to my master, and you, Hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. BARD. Away, you Rogue!

HOST. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days. The King has kill'd his heart. Good Husband, come home presently.

1 i.e. understand.

4 Pistolese for couper la.
salivated.

2 i.e. a Devil.

[Exeunt Hostess and Boy.

3 (slang)='lug out'; 'produce your iron.'

5 i.e. the tub in which the Elizabethan syphilee was

6 (slang)=the pocky harlot. 7i.e. 'Pauca verba'no more words; 'dry up.'

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