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 finer end, an went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, e'en at turning o'the tide for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled 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; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet: So, 'a bade me lay more clothes 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 cold as any stone. Nym. They say, he cried out of sack. Bard. And of women. Quick. Nay, that 'a did not. Boy. Yes, that 'a did; and said, they were devils in carnate. Quick. 'A could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked. 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 talked 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? 7 Bard. Well, the fuel is gone, that maintained the fire: that's all the riches I got in his service. Nym. Shall we shog off? 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: Let senses rule; the word is, Pitch and pay; Trust none; For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor. Go, clear thy crystals.-Yoke-fellows in arms, Boy. And that is but unwholsome food, they say. Bard. Farewell, hostess. [Kissing her. Nym. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but adieu. Pist. Let housewifery appear; keep close, I thee command. Quick. Farewell; adieu. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-France. A Room in the French King's Palace. Enter the French King attended; the Dauphin, the Duke of BURGUNDY, the Constable, and Others. Fr. King. Thus come the English with full power upon us; And more than carefully it us concerns, To answer royally in our defences. Therefore the dukes of Berry, and of Bretagne, It fits us then, to be as provident As fear may teach us, out of late examples Dau. My most redoubted father, It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe: For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, (Though war, nor no known quarrel, were in question,) But that defences, musters, preparations, Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected, As were a war in expectation. Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth, To view the sick and feeble parts of France: And let us do it with no show of fear; No, with no more, than if we heard that England Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, Her sceptre so fantastically borne By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, Con. O peace, prince Dauphin! You are too much mistaken in this king: How well supplied with noble counsellors, Dau. Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable, Fr. King. Think we king Harry strong; Of that black name, Edward black prince of Wales; The patterns that by God and by French fathers Of that victorious stock; and let us fear Enter a Messenger. Mess. Ambassadors from Henry King of England Do crave admittance to your majesty. Fr. King. We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. [Exeunt Mess. and certain Lords. You see, this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. Dau. Turn head, and stop pursuit: for coward dogs Most spend their mouths, when what they seem to threaten, Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, Take up the English short; and let them know Of what a monarchy you are the head: Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and Train. Fr. King. From our brother England? Exe. From him; and thus he greets your majesty. He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, That you divest yourself, and lay apart The borrow'd glories, that, by gift of heaven, By law of nature, and of nations, 'long To him, and to his heirs; namely, the crown, And all wide-stretched honours that pertain, By custom and the ordinance of times, Unto the crown of France. That you may know, "Tis no sinister, nor no aukward claim, Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, |