Act 2. Scene I

SCENE I. 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