Open Source Shakespeare

Speeches (Lines) for Pistol
in "Henry V"

Total: 62

# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

II,1,537

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

2

II,1,548

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

3

II,1,551

'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.

4

II,1,565

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

5

II,1,571

An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give:
Thy spirits are most tall.

6

II,1,576

'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.

7

II,1,598

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

8

II,1,600

Base is the slave that pays.

9

II,1,602

As manhood shall compound: push home.

10

II,1,606

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

11

II,1,611

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.

12

II,1,619

In cash most justly paid.

13

II,1,628

Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
His heart is fracted and corroborate.

14

II,1,632

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

15

II,3,834

No; for my manly heart doth yearn.
Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yearn therefore.

16

II,3,877

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!

17

II,3,888

Touch her soft mouth, and march.

18

II,3,892

Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.

19

III,2,1133

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.

20

III,2,1140

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

21

III,2,1149

Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,
Abate thy rage, great duke!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!

22

III,6,1482

Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours:
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

23

III,6,1486

Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate,
And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind,
That stands upon the rolling restless stone—

24

III,6,1501

Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be:
A damned death!
Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free
And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate:
But Exeter hath given the doom of death
For pax of little price.
Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice:
And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
With edge of penny cord and vile reproach:
Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.

25

III,6,1513

Why then, rejoice therefore.

26

III,6,1518

Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!

27

III,6,1520

The fig of Spain!

28

IV,1,1881

Qui va la?

29

IV,1,1883

Discuss unto me; art thou officer?
Or art thou base, common and popular?

30

IV,1,1886

Trail'st thou the puissant pike?

31

IV,1,1888

As good a gentleman as the emperor.

32

IV,1,1890

The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold,
A lad of life, an imp of fame;
Of parents good, of fist most valiant.
I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string
I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?

33

IV,1,1896

Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?

34

IV,1,1898

Know'st thou Fluellen?

35

IV,1,1900

Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate
Upon Saint Davy's day.

36

IV,1,1904

Art thou his friend?

37

IV,1,1906

The figo for thee, then!

38

IV,1,1908

My name is Pistol call'd.

39

IV,4,2375

Yield, cur!

40

IV,4,2377

Qualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman?
what is thy name? discuss.

41

IV,4,2380

O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman:
Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark;
O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,
Except, O signieur, thou do give to me
Egregious ransom.

42

IV,4,2386

Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
In drops of crimson blood.

43

IV,4,2390

Brass, cur!
Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,
Offer'st me brass?

44

IV,4,2394

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

45

IV,4,2400

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

46

IV,4,2403

Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.

47

IV,4,2408

Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,
Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

48

IV,4,2414

What are his words?

49

IV,4,2418

Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the crowns will take.

50

IV,4,2428

Expound unto me, boy.

51

IV,4,2433

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

52

V,1,2905

Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

53

V,1,2914

Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

54

V,1,2918

Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

55

V,1,2930

Must I bite?

56

V,1,2933

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat
and eat, I swear—

57

V,1,2937

Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.

58

V,1,2942

Good.

59

V,1,2945

Me a groat!

60

V,1,2948

I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

61

V,1,2953

All hell shall stir for this.

62

V,1,2966

Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital
Of malady of France;
And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I'll turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:
And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.