Get you therefore hence
(Poor miserable wretches) to your death;
The taste° whereof God of His mercy give
You patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear° offenses! Bear them hence.
Exeunt [Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, guarded].
Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof
Shall be to you as us, like° glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason, lurking in our way
To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
But every rub° is smoothed on our way.
Then, forth, dear countrymen. Let us deliver
Our puissance° into the hand of God,
Putting it straight in expedition.°
Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:°
No king of England, if not King of France!
Flourish. [Exeunt.]
[ Scene 3. London. Before a tavern.]
Enter Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostess.
Hostess. Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.°
Pistol. No; for my manly heart doth earn.°
175 tender care for
179 taste experience
181 dear dire
183 like equally
188 rub obstacle
190 puissance armed force
191 expedition motion
192 the signs of war advance raise up the banners 2.3.2 Staines (on the road to Southampton) 3 earn grieve
Bardolph, be blithe; Nym, rouse thy vaunting
veins;°
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must earn 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 and° it had been any christom child.° ’A parted ev’n just between twelve and one, ev’n at the turning o’ th’ tide.° For after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his finger’s end, 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
4 vaunting veins rising spirits 9-10 Arthur’s bosom (a mistake for Abraham’s bosom)
10 A he
11 finer end i.e., than going to hell
11 and as if
12 christom child infant in christening robe (the proper form was “chrisom”), innocent babe
13-14 at the turning o’ th’ tide (according to popular belief, persons near the sea died at the turn of the tide)
14-17 fumble ... nose was as sharp as a pen (traditionally accepted signs of the imminence of death)
17 ‘a babbled (the Folio has “a Table,” which seems meaningless to most readers. Lewis Theobald’s conjecture, in 1726, that a compositor misread the copy’s “a babid” has been widely accepted. One might argue that the compositor misread “a talkd,” but (’babbled“ is more appropriate than ”talked to the childishness referred to earlier in the speech of an old man’s last moments. Recently the Folio reading has been defended, though not convincingly. One student, for example, takes “Table” in the sense of “picture” or “tableau,” and paraphrases thus: Falstaff’s nose was sharp as the pointed stakes of a pinfold, in a picture of green fields. Various interpretations are usefully surveyed in E. G. Fogel, Shakespearc Quarterly IX [1958]: 485-92; but Theobald’s conjecture seems better sense and better Shakespeare)
his knees, 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 color 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?
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,°
28 cried out of complained loudly of
32-33 incarnate in human shape
34 carnation flesh color
38 handle speak of
39 rheumatic (perhaps a mistake for “lunatic”: probably pronounced “rome-atic”; see next note)
39-40 the Whore of Babylon (1) the “scarlet woman” of Revelation 17:4-5 (2) the Church of Rome
44 fuel i.e., liquor provided by Falstaff
46 shog move off
50 Let senses rule. The word is “Pitch and pay” keep your wits about you. The motto is “Cash down”
52 wafer cakes i.e., easily broken
And Hold-fast is the only dog,° my duck.
Therefore Caveto° be thy counselor.
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