ERPINGHAM.
Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better,
Since I may say, “Now lie I like a king.”
KING HENRY.
’Tis good for men to love their present pains
Upon example; so the spirit is eased;
And when the mind is quick’ned, out of doubt,
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowsy grave and newly move,
With casted slough and fresh legerity.
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
Commend me to the princes in our camp;
Do my good morrow to them, and anon
Desire them all to my pavilion.
GLOUCESTER.
We shall, my liege.
ERPINGHAM.
Shall I attend your Grace?
KING HENRY.
No, my good knight;
Go with my brothers to my lords of England.
I and my bosom must debate a while,
And then I would no other company.
ERPINGHAM.
The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
[Exeunt all but King.]
KING HENRY.
God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak’st cheerfully.
Enter Pistol.
PISTOL.
Qui vous là?