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                                  Prologue

                                  Enter Chorus

                                  Chorus

                  O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
                     The brightest heaven of invention,
                   A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
                 And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
                Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
                 Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
           Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
            Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
                 The flat unraised spirits that have dared
                  On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
                 So great an object: can this cockpit hold
                 The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
                   Within this wooden O the very casques
                  That did affright the air at Agincourt?
                   O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
                     Attest in little place a million;
                 And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
                       On your imaginary forces work.
                  Suppose within the girdle of these walls
                  Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
                  Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
                  The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
              Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
                    Into a thousand parts divide on man,
                       And make imaginary puissance;
              Think when we talk of horses, that you see them
             Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;
            For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
               Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,
                  Turning the accomplishment of many years
                 Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
                      Admit me Chorus to this history;
                Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
                 Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

                                      Exit

                               Act 1, Scene 1

               London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace.

            Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY

                                CANTERBURY

              My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged,
            Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign
                Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd,
                  But that the scambling and unquiet time
                    Did push it out of farther question.

                                    ELY

                 But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?

                                CANTERBURY

               It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
                 We lose the better half of our possession:
                For all the temporal lands which men devout
                   By testament have given to the church
                Would they strip from us; being valued thus:
              As much as would maintain, to the king's honour,
              Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,
                Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;
                   And, to relief of lazars and weak age,
                Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil.
                 A hundred almshouses right well supplied;
                   And to the coffers of the king beside,
             A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill.

                                    ELY

                           This would drink deep.

                                CANTERBURY

                       'Twould drink the cup and all.

                                    ELY

                            But what prevention?

                                CANTERBURY

                 The king is full of grace and fair regard.

                                    ELY

                    And a true lover of the holy church.

                                CANTERBURY

                 The courses of his youth promised it not.
                The breath no sooner left his father's body,
                  But that his wildness, mortified in him,
                Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment
                     Consideration, like an angel, came
                 And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him,
                      Leaving his body as a paradise,
                 To envelop and contain celestial spirits.
                   Never was such a sudden scholar made;
                     Never came reformation in a flood,
                With such a heady currance, scouring faults
                     Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness
                 So soon did lose his seat and all at once
                              As in this king.

                                    ELY

                       We are blessed in the change.

                                CANTERBURY

                      Hear him but reason in divinity,
                    And all-admiring with an inward wish
               You would desire the king were made a prelate:
                  Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
              You would say it hath been all in all his study:
               List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
                  A fearful battle render'd you in music:
                      Turn him to any cause of policy,
                  The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
               Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks,
                 The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
                 And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
                 To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences;
                  So that the art and practic part of life
                   Must be the mistress to this theoric:
              Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it,
                  Since his addiction was to courses vain,
                His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow,
             His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports,
                     And never noted in him any study,
                     Any retirement, any sequestration
                      From open haunts and popularity.

                                    ELY

                 The strawberry grows underneath the nettle
                And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
                   Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality:
                And so the prince obscured his contemplation
                Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
               Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
                    Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

                                CANTERBURY

                  It must be so; for miracles are ceased;
                And therefore we must needs admit the means
                         How things are perfected.

                                    ELY

                             But, my good lord,
                    How now for mitigation of this bill
                   Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty
                           Incline to it, or no?

                                CANTERBURY

                           He seems indifferent,
                    Or rather swaying more upon our part
                 Than cherishing the exhibiters against us;
                  For I have made an offer to his majesty,
                       Upon our spiritual convocation
                    And in regard of causes now in hand,
                 Which I have open'd to his grace at large,
                 As touching France, to give a greater sum
                    Than ever at one time the clergy yet
                    Did to his predecessors part withal.

                                    ELY

                 How did this offer seem received, my lord?

                                CANTERBURY

                    With good acceptance of his majesty;
                Save that there was not time enough to hear,
               As I perceived his grace would fain have done,
                     The severals and unhidden passages
                Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms
               And generally to the crown and seat of France
                Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather.

                                    ELY

                What was the impediment that broke this off?

                                CANTERBURY

                  The French ambassador upon that instant
              Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come
                  To give him hearing: is it four o'clock?

                                    ELY

                                   It is.

                                CANTERBURY

                    Then go we in, to know his embassy;
                 Which I could with a ready guess declare,
                  Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.

                                    ELY

                 I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.

                                     Exeunt

                               Act 1, Scene 2

                      The same. The Presence chamber.

         Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK,
                          WESTMORELAND, and Attendants

                               KING HENRY V

                  Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

                                  EXETER

                           Not here in presence.

                               KING HENRY V

                         Send for him, good uncle.

                               WESTMORELAND

                 Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege?

                               KING HENRY V

                 Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved,
                Before we hear him, of some things of weight
             That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.

            Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY

                                CANTERBURY

                God and his angels guard your sacred throne
                        And make you long become it!

                               KING HENRY V

                            Sure, we thank you.
                  My learned lord, we pray you to proceed
                     And justly and religiously unfold
                Why the law Salique that they have in France
               Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim:
                 And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
            That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
                  Or nicely charge your understanding soul
                 With opening titles miscreate, whose right
                Suits not in native colours with the truth;
                  For God doth know how many now in health
                   Shall drop their blood in approbation
                 Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
               Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
                  How you awake our sleeping sword of war:
               We charge you, in the name of God, take heed;
                  For never two such kingdoms did contend
             Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
                   Are every one a woe, a sore complaint
             'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords
                  That make such waste in brief mortality.
                  Under this conjuration, speak, my lord;
                For we will hear, note and believe in heart
              That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd
                        As pure as sin with baptism.

                                CANTERBURY

              Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
                That owe yourselves, your lives and services
                  To this imperial throne. There is no bar
               To make against your highness' claim to France
                But this, which they produce from Pharamond,
                 'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:'
                 'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:'
                Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze
                  To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
                  The founder of this law and female bar.
                  Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
                    That the land Salique is in Germany,
                  Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
            Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons,
               There left behind and settled certain French;
                  Who, holding in disdain the German women
                 For some dishonest manners of their life,
                Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female
                   Should be inheritrix in Salique land:
              Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
                  Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
                 Then doth it well appear that Salique law
                  Was not devised for the realm of France:
                Nor did the French possess the Salique land
                  Until four hundred one and twenty years
                    After defunction of King Pharamond,
                   Idly supposed the founder of this law;
                 Who died within the year of our redemption
               Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
                Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French
                     Beyond the river Sala, in the year
              Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
                    King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,
                   Did, as heir general, being descended
             Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,
                Make claim and title to the crown of France.
                   Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown
              Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
              Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
                To find his title with some shows of truth,
            'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,
               Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare,
                  Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
                  To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son
              Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,
                  Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
                  Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
                Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied
                  That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
                     Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,
             Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine:
            By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
                   Was re-united to the crown of France.
                 So that, as clear as is the summer's sun.
                 King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim,
                  King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear
                 To hold in right and title of the female:
                  So do the kings of France unto this day;
                Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
               To bar your highness claiming from the female,
                  And rather choose to hide them in a net
                  Than amply to imbar their crooked titles
                   Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.

                               KING HENRY V

              May I with right and conscience make this claim?

                                CANTERBURY

                   The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
                   For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
                   When the man dies, let the inheritance
                 Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
                Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag;
                   Look back into your mighty ancestors:
             Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb,
              From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
              And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
                 Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
                 Making defeat on the full power of France,
                  Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
                  Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
                    Forage in blood of French nobility.
                   O noble English. that could entertain
              With half their forces the full Pride of France
                  And let another half stand laughing by,
                    All out of work and cold for action!

                                    ELY

                  Awake remembrance of these valiant dead
               And with your puissant arm renew their feats:
               You are their heir; you sit upon their throne;
                  The blood and courage that renowned them
              Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
                   Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
                 Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.

                                  EXETER

                Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
               Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
                   As did the former lions of your blood.

                               WESTMORELAND

            They know your grace hath cause and means and might;
                So hath your highness; never king of England
                 Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
            Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
                And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.

                                CANTERBURY

                 O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
              With blood and sword and fire to win your right;
                    In aid whereof we of the spiritualty
                 Will raise your highness such a mighty sum
                    As never did the clergy at one time
                     Bring in to any of your ancestors.

                               KING HENRY V

                 We must not only arm to invade the French,
                   But lay down our proportions to defend
                Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
                            With all advantages.

                                CANTERBURY

                 They of those marches, gracious sovereign,
                    Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
                  Our inland from the pilfering borderers.

                               KING HENRY V

                We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
                 But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
                Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;
                For you shall read that my great-grandfather
                   Never went with his forces into France
                But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
                 Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
                 With ample and brim fulness of his force,
                 Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,
               Girding with grievous siege castles and towns;
                   That England, being empty of defence,
             Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood.

                                CANTERBURY

           She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege;
                   For hear her but exampled by herself:
                 When all her chivalry hath been in France
                  And she a mourning widow of her nobles,
                  She hath herself not only well defended
                     But taken and impounded as a stray
              The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
               To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings
                 And make her chronicle as rich with praise
                    As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
                 With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries.

                               WESTMORELAND

                  But there's a saying very old and true,
                       'If that you will France win,
                      Then with Scotland first begin:'
                 For once the eagle England being in prey,
                   To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
               Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs,
                  Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
                  To tear and havoc more than she can eat.

                                  EXETER

                 It follows then the cat must stay at home:
                    Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
               Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,
                And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
                While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
                  The advised head defends itself at home;
               For government, though high and low and lower,
                 Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
                  Congreeing in a full and natural close,
                                Like music.

                                CANTERBURY

                        Therefore doth heaven divide
                   The state of man in divers functions,
                   Setting endeavour in continual motion;
                   To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
                   Obedience: for so work the honey-bees,
                  Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
                   The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
                  They have a king and officers of sorts;
               Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,
               Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad,
               Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
                  Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
               Which pillage they with merry march bring home
                    To the tent-royal of their emperor;
                    Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
                 The singing masons building roofs of gold,
                 The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
                   The poor mechanic porters crowding in
                  Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
                 The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
                     Delivering o'er to executors pale
                   The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,
                  That many things, having full reference
                  To one consent, may work contrariously:
                    As many arrows, loosed several ways,
              Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town;
                As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea;
                 As many lines close in the dial's centre;
                   So may a thousand actions, once afoot.
                 End in one purpose, and be all well borne
               Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
                    Divide your happy England into four;
                 Whereof take you one quarter into France,
                And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
                If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
                 Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,
                   Let us be worried and our nation lose
                     The name of hardiness and policy.

                               KING HENRY V

               Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.

                             Exeunt some Attendants

               Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help,
                 And yours, the noble sinews of our power,
                France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
               Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit,
                      Ruling in large and ample empery
              O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,
                   Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
                  Tombless, with no remembrance over them:
                  Either our history shall with full mouth
                Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
             Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
                    Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.

                           Enter Ambassadors of France

               Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure
                  Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
               Your greeting is from him, not from the king.

                             First Ambassador

                 May't please your majesty to give us leave
                  Freely to render what we have in charge;
                   Or shall we sparingly show you far off
                   The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?

                               KING HENRY V

                  We are no tyrant, but a Christian king;
                 Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
                As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons:
              Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness
                        Tell us the Dauphin's mind.

                             First Ambassador

                            Thus, then, in few.
                 Your highness, lately sending into France,
               Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right
             Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
              In answer of which claim, the prince our master
                Says that you savour too much of your youth,
              And bids you be advised there's nought in France
                  That can be with a nimble galliard won;
                   You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
              He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
                This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
                Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
               Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.

                               KING HENRY V

                           What treasure, uncle?

                                  EXETER

                          Tennis-balls, my liege.

                               KING HENRY V

              We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;
                His present and your pains we thank you for:
              When we have march'd our rackets to these balls,
               We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set
              Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
             Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
              That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
                  With chaces. 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 seat of England;
               And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
                 To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common
               That men are merriest when they are from home.
                 But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state,
                Be like a king and show 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,
                Yea, strike the Dauphin 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 Dauphin's scorn.
                 But this lies all within the will of God,
                   To whom I do appeal; and in whose name
                    Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on,
                   To venge me as I may and to put forth
                 My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
              So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin
                  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

                                  EXETER

                         This was a merry message.

                               KING HENRY V

                  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 proportions 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 chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
               Therefore let every man now task his thought,
               That this fair action may on foot be brought.

                                Exeunt. Flourish

                                  Prologue

                                  Enter Chorus

                                  Chorus

                 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,
                    Promised to Harry and his followers.
                  The French, advised 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 mightst 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
             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 gilt of France,--O guilt indeed!
                 Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful 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 we'll digest
                    The abuse of distance; force 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.

                                      Exit

                               Act 2, Scene 1

                             London. A street.

                   Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH

                                 BARDOLPH

                          Well met, Corporal Nym.

                                    NYM

                     Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

                                 BARDOLPH

               What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

                                    NYM

              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.

                                 BARDOLPH

             I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and
            we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it
                         be so, good Corporal Nym.

                                    NYM

              Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the
            certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I
               will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the
                             rendezvous of it.

                                 BARDOLPH

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

                                    NYM

             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 tired mare, yet
             she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I
                                cannot tell.

                            Enter PISTOL and Hostess

                                 BARDOLPH

                Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good
           corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!

                                  PISTOL

            Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand,
         I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

                                  Hostess

             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 and PISTOL draw

               O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we
              shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.

                                 BARDOLPH

            Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.

                                    NYM

                                   Pish!

                                  PISTOL

        Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland!

                                  Hostess

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

                                    NYM

                 Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

                                  PISTOL

                   '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;
                  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.

                                  PISTOL

                 O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
               The grave doth gape, and doting death is near;
                             Therefore exhale.

                                 BARDOLPH

              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

                                  PISTOL

               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.

                                  PISTOL

                             '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,
          &n