Speeches (Lines) for Boy in "History of Henry V"

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 powdering 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
you, 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.

Mistress Quickly. Nay, that a' did not.

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

Mistress Quickly. A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he
never liked.

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

Mistress Quickly. 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?

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 crystals. 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. The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound:
Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,
In bloody field,
Doth win immortal fame.

Boy. Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give
all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.

Pistol. And I:
If wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.

Boy. As duly, but not as truly,
As bird doth sing on bough.

Nym. These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours.

Boy. As young as I am, I have observed these three
swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they
three, though they would serve me, could not be man
to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to
a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and
red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but
fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue
and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks
words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath
heard that men of few words are the best men; and
therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a'
should be thought a coward: but his few bad words
are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never
broke any man's head but his own, and that was
against a post when he was drunk. They will steal
any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a
lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for
three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn
brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a
fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the
men would carry coals. They would have me as
familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their
handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood,
if I should take from another's pocket to put into
mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I
must leave them, and seek some better service:
their villany goes against my weak stomach, and
therefore I must cast it up.

Pistol. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?
Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French
What is his name.

Boy. Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?

French Soldier. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.

Pistol. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret
him: discuss the same in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

French Soldier. Que dit-il, monsieur?

Boy. Il me commande de vous dire que vous faites vous
pret; car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette
heure de couper votre gorge.

Pistol. What are his words?

Boy. He prays you to save his life: he is a gentleman of
a good house; and for his ransom he will give you
two hundred crowns.

French Soldier. Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

Boy. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner
aucun prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous
l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la
liberte, le franchisement.

Pistol. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and
he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into
the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave,
valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England.

Pistol. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.
Follow me!

Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.
[Exeunt PISTOL, and French Soldier]
I did never know so full a voice issue from so
empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty
vessel makes the greatest sound.' Bardolph and Nym
had ten times more valour than this roaring devil i'
the old play, that every one may pare his nails with
a wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so
would this be, if he durst steal any thing
adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with
the luggage of our camp: the French might have a
good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is
none to guard it but boys.