Читать книгу The Life of King Henry the Fifth - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 6

  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't 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.

  BARDOLPH. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good

Corporal, be

    patient here.

  NYM. 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 draws] 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 thaes the humour of it.

  PISTOL. O braggart vile and damned furious wight!

    The grave doth gape and doting death is near;

    Therefore exhale. [PISTOL draws]

  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.

                           [PISTOL and Nym sheathe their swords]

    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,

    And from the powd'ring tub of infamy

    Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,

    Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse.

    I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly

    For the only she; and- pauca, there's enough.

    Go to.

  BOY. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master; and your

    hostess- he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph,

put

    thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a

warming-pan.

    Faith, he's very ill.

  BARDOLPH. Away, you rogue.

  HOSTESS. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of

these

    days: the King has kill'd his heart. Good husband, come home

    presently. Exeunt HOSTESS and BOY

  BARDOLPH. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France

    together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one

    another's throats?

  PISTOL. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

  NYM. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?

  PISTOL. Base is the slave that pays.

  NYM. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.

  PISTOL. As manhood shall compound: push home.

                                           [PISTOL and Nym draw]

  BARDOLPH. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust I'll

kill

    him; by this sword, I will.

  PISTOL. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

                                            [Sheathes his sword]

  BARDOLPH. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends; an

    thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prithee put

up.

  NYM. I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?

  PISTOL. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;

    And liquor likewise will I give to thee,

    And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.

    I'll live by Nym and Nym shall live by me.

    Is not this just? For I shall sutler be

    Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.

    Give me thy hand.

  NYM. [Sheathing his sword] I shall have my noble?

  PISTOL. In cash most justly paid.

  NYM. [Shaking hands] Well, then, that's the humour of't.

  HOSTESS. As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir

John.

    Ah, poor heart! he is so shak'd of a burning quotidian

tertian

    that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

  NYM. The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that's the

even

    of it.

  PISTOL. Nym, thou hast spoke the right;

    His heart is fracted and corroborate.

  NYM. The King is a good king, but it must be as it may; he

passes

    some humours and careers.

  PISTOL. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.