SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. The Life of King Henry the Fifth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry V  | Act 2, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. 

 Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy  Hostess  Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. 

 PISTOL  No; for my manly heart doth yearn. 

 Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: 

 Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, 

 And we must yearn therefore. 

 BARDOLPH  Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in 

 heaven or in hell! 

 Hostess  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 and went away an it had been any 

 christom child; a' parted even just between twelve 

 and one, even at the 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 o' 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 

 they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and 

 upward, and all was as cold as any stone. 

 NYM  They say he cried out of sack. 

 Hostess  Ay, that a' did. 

 BARDOLPH  And of women. 

 Hostess  Nay, that a' did not. 

 Boy  Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils 

 incarnate. 

 Hostess  A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he 

 never liked. 

 Boy  A' said once, the devil would have him about women. 

 Hostess  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? 

 BARDOLPH  Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: 

 that's all the riches I got in his service. 

 NYM  Shall we shog? the king will be gone from 

 Southampton. 

 PISTOL  Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. 

 Look to my chattels and my movables: 

 Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' 

 Trust none; 

 For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, 

 And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: 

 Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. 

 Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, 

 Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, 

 To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! 

 Boy  And that's but unwholesome food they say. 

 PISTOL  Touch her soft mouth, and march. 

 BARDOLPH  Farewell, hostess. 



 Kissing her  NYM  I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. 

 PISTOL  Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. 

 Hostess  Farewell; adieu. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry V  | Act 2, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene 