Const. This becomes the Great.Sorry am I his numbers are so few,His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,And for atchieuement, offer vs his RansomeKing. Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,And let him say to England, that we send,To know what willing Ransome he will giue.Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in RoanDolph. Not so, I doe beseech your MaiestieKing. Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.Exeunt.Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower and Fluellen.Gower. How now Captaine Fluellen, come you fromthe Bridge?Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent Seruices committedat the BridgeGower. Is the Duke of Exeter safe? Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon, and a man that I loue and honour with my soule, and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my liuing, and my vttermost power. He is not, God be praysed and blessed, any hurt in the World, but keepes the Bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very conscience hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthony, and hee is a man of no estimation in the World, but I did see him doe as gallant seruiceGower. What doe you call him?Flu. Hee is call'd aunchient PistollGower. I know him not.Enter Pistoll.Flu. Here is the manPist. Captaine, I thee beseech to doe me fauours: theDuke of Exeter doth loue thee wellFlu. I, I prayse God, and I haue merited some loue athis handsPist. Bardolph, a Souldier firme and sound of heart, and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie Fortunes furious fickle Wheele, that Goddesse blind, that stands vpon the rolling restlesse StoneFlu. By your patience, aunchient Pistoll: Fortune is painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to signifie to you, that Fortune is blinde; and shee is painted also with a Wheele, to signifie to you, which is the Morall of it, that shee is turning and inconstant, and mutabilitie, and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed vpon a Sphericall Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles: in good truth, the Poet makes a most excellent description of it: Fortune is an excellent MorallPist. Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him: for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free, and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price. Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce; and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for his Life, and I will thee requiteFlu. Aunchient Pistoll, I doe partly vnderstand your meaningPist. Why then reioyce thereforeFlu. Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would desire the Duke to vse his good pleasure, and put him to execution; for discipline ought to be vsedPist. Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendshipFlu. It is wellPist. The Figge of Spaine.Enter.Flu. Very goodGower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rascall, I remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purseFlu. Ile assure you, a vtt'red as praue words at the Pridge, as you shall see in a Summers day: but it is very well: what he ha's spoke to me, that is well I warrant you, when time is serueGower. Why 'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done; at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Conuoy: who came off brauely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what termes the Enemy stood on: and this they conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke vp with new-tuned Oathes: and what a Beard of the Generalls Cut, and a horride Sute of the Campe, will doe among foming Bottles, and Ale-washt Wits, is wonderfull to be thought on: but you must learne to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be maruellously mistookeFlu. I tell you what, Captaine Gower: I doe perceiue hee is not the man that hee would gladly make shew to the World hee is: if I finde a hole in his Coat, I will tell him my minde: hearke you, the King is comming, and I must speake with him from the Pridge.Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his poore Souldiers.Flu. God plesse your MaiestieKing. How now Fluellen, cam'st thou from the Bridge? Flu. I, so please your Maiestie: The Duke of Exeter ha's very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge; the French is gone off, looke you, and there is gallant and most praue passages: marry, th' athuersarie was haue possession of the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of Exeter is Master of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie, the Duke is a praue manKing. What men haue you lost, Fluellen? Flu. The perdition of th' athuersarie hath beene very great, reasonnable great: marry for my part, I thinke the Duke hath lost neuer a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Maiestie know the man: his face is all bubukles and whelkes, and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his nose, and it is like a coale of fire, sometimes plew, and sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire's outKing. Wee would haue all such offendors so cut off: and we giue expresse charge, that in our Marches through the Countrey, there be nothing compell'd from the Villages; nothing taken, but pay'd for: none of the French vpbrayded or abused in disdainefull Language; for when Leuitie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler Gamester is the soonest winner.Tucket. Enter Mountioy.Mountioy. You know me by my habitKing. Well then, I know thee: what shall I know ofthee?Mountioy. My Masters mindKing. Vnfold itMountioy. Thus sayes my King: Say thou to Harry of England, Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleepe: Aduantage is a better Souldier then rashnesse. Tell him, wee could haue rebuk'd him at Harflewe, but that wee thought not good to bruise an iniurie, till it were full ripe. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is imperiall: England shall repent his folly, see his weakenesse, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransome, which must proportion the losses we haue borne, the subiects we haue lost, the disgrace we haue digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettinesse would bow vnder. For our losses, his Exchequer is too poore; for th' effusion of our bloud, the Muster of his Kingdome too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his owne person kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worthlesse satisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is pronounc't: So farre my King and Master; so much my OfficeKing. What is thy name? I know thy qualitieMount. MountioyKing. Thou doo'st thy Office fairely. Turne thee backe,And tell thy King, I doe not seeke him now,But could be willing to march on to Callice,Without impeachment: for to say the sooth,Though 'tis no wisdome to confesse so muchVnto an enemie of Craft and Vantage,My people are with sicknesse much enfeebled,My numbers lessen'd: and those few I haue,Almost no better then so many French;Who when they were in health, I tell thee Herald,I thought, vpon one payre of English LeggesDid march three Frenchmen. Yet forgiue me God,That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of FranceHath blowne that vice in me. I must repent:Goe therefore tell thy Master, heere I am;My Ransome, is this frayle and worthlesse Trunke;My Army, but a weake and sickly Guard:Yet God before, tell him we will come on,Though France himselfe, and such another NeighborStand in our way. There's for thy labour Mountioy.Goe bid thy Master well aduise himselfe.If we may passe, we will: if we be hindred,We shall your tawnie ground with your red bloodDiscolour: and so Mountioy, fare you well.The summe of all our Answer is but this:We would not seeke a Battaile as we are,Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it:So tell your MasterMount. I shall deliuer so: Thankes to your HighnesseGlouc. I hope they will not come vpon vs nowKing. We are in Gods hand, Brother, not in theirs:March to the Bridge, it now drawes toward night,Beyond the Riuer wee'le encampe our selues,And on to morrow bid them march away.Exeunt.Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Ramburs, Orleance, Dolphin, with others.Const. Tut, I haue the best Armour of the World:would it were dayOrleance. You haue an excellent Armour: but let myHorse haue his dueConst. It is the best Horse of EuropeOrleance. Will it neuer be Morning?Dolph. My Lord of Orleance, and my Lord High Constable,you talke of Horse and Armour?Orleance. You are as well prouided of both, as anyPrince in the WorldDolph. What a long Night is this? I will not change my Horse with any that treades but on foure postures: ch' ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were hayres: le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of HermesOrleance. Hee's of the colour of the NutmegDolph. And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beast for Perseus: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Elements of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but only in patient stillnesse while his Rider mounts him: hee is indeede a Horse, and all other Iades you may call BeastsConst. Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellentHorseDolph. It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces HomageOrleance. No more CousinDolph. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from the rising of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe, varie deserued prayse on my Palfray: it is a Theame as fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues, and my Horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subiect for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs, and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions, and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse, and began thus, Wonder of NatureOrleance. I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones MistresseDolph. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd to my Courser, for my Horse is my MistresseOrleance. Your Mistresse beares wellDolph. Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfectionof a good and particular MistresseConst. Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresseshrewdly shooke your backDolph. So perhaps did yoursConst. Mine was not bridledDolph. O then belike she was old and gentle, and you rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in your strait StrossersConst. You haue good iudgement in HorsemanshipDolph. Be warn'd by me then: they that ride so, and ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue my Horse to my MistresseConst. I had as liue haue my Mistresse a IadeDolph. I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares hisowne hayreConst. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had aSow to my MistresseDolph. Le chien est retourne a son propre vemissement estla leuye lauee au bourbier: thou mak'st vse of any thingConst. Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purposeRamb. My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw inyour Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?Const. Starres my LordDolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hopeConst. And yet my Sky shall not wantDolph. That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,and 'twere more honor some were awayConst. Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, whowould trot as well, were some of your bragges dismountedDolph. Would I were able to loade him with his desert. Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile, and my way shall be paued with English FacesConst. I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would faine be about the eares of the EnglishRamb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentiePrisoners?Const. You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere youhaue themDolph. 'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.Enter.Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morningRamb. He longs to eate the EnglishConst. I thinke he will eate all he killsOrleance. By the white Hand of my Lady, hee's a gallantPrinceConst. Sweare by her Foot, that she may tread out theOathOrleance. He is simply the most actiue Gentleman ofFranceConst. Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doingOrleance. He neuer did harme, that I heard ofConst. Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe that good name stillOrleance. I know him to be valiantConst. I was told that, by one that knowes him betterthen youOrleance. What's hee?Const. Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd heecar'd not who knew itOrleance. Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue inhimConst. By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it appeares, it will bateOrleance. Ill will neuer sayd wellConst. I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatteriein friendshipOrleance. And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuillhis dueConst. Well plac't: there stands your friend for theDeuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, APox of the DeuillOrleance. You are the better at Prouerbs, by how mucha Fooles Bolt is soone shotConst. You haue shot ouerOrleance. 'Tis not the first time you were ouer-shot.Enter a Messenger.Mess. My Lord high Constable, the English lye withinfifteene hundred paces of your TentsConst. Who hath measur'd the ground?Mess. The Lord GrandpreeConst. A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs not for the Dawning, as wee doeOrleance. What a wretched and peeuish fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so farre out of his knowledgeConst. If the English had any apprehension, theywould runne awayOrleance. That they lack: for if their heads had any intellectuallArmour, they could neuer weare such heauieHead-piecesRamb. That Iland of England breedes very valiantCreatures; their Mastiffes are of vnmatchable courageOrleance. Foolish Curres, that runne winking into the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that's a valiant Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a LyonConst. Iust, iust: and the men doe sympathize with the Mastiffes, in robustious and rough comming on, leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then giue them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele; they will eate like Wolues, and fight like DeuilsOrleance. I, but these English are shrowdly out ofBeefeConst. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to arme: come, shall we about it? Orleance. It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.Exeunt.Actus Tertius.Chorus.Now entertaine coniecture of a time,When creeping Murmure and the poring DarkeFills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse.From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of NightThe Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds;That the fixt Centinels almost receiueThe secret Whispers of each others Watch.Fire answers fire, and through their paly flamesEach Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull NeighsPiercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents,The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp,Giue dreadfull note of preparation.The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle:And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd,Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule,The confident and ouer-lustie French,Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night,Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpeSo tediously away. The poore condemned English,Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull FiresSit patiently, and inly ruminateThe Mornings danger: and their gesture sad,Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,Presented them vnto the gazing MooneSo many horride Ghosts. O now, who will beholdThe Royall Captaine of this ruin'd BandWalking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head:For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast,Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle,And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.Vpon his Royall Face there is no note,How dread an Army hath enrounded him;Nor doth he dedicate one iot of ColourVnto the wearie and all-watched Night:But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie:That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne,His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle allBehold, as may vnworthinesse define.A little touch of Harry in the Night,And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye:Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles,(Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see,Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.Enter.Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,The greater therefore should our Courage be.God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie,There is some soule of goodnesse in things euill,Would men obseruingly distill it out.For our bad Neighbour makes vs early stirrers,Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry.Besides, they are our outward Consciences,And Preachers to vs all; admonishing,That we should dresse vs fairely for our end.Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,And make a Morall of the Diuell himselfe.Enter Erpingham.Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham:A good soft Pillow for that good white Head,Were better then a churlish turfe of FranceErping. Not so my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,Since I may say, now lye I like a KingKing. 'Tis good for men to loue their present paines,Vpon example, so the Spirit is eased:And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubtThe Organs, though defunct and dead before,Breake vp their drowsie Graue, and newly moueWith casted slough, and fresh legeritie.Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both,Commend me to the Princes in our Campe;Doe my good morrow to them, and anonDesire them all to my PauillionGloster. We shall, my LiegeErping. Shall I attend your Grace?King. No, my good Knight:Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:I and my Bosome must debate a while,And then I would no other companyErping. The Lord in Heauen blesse thee, NobleHarry.Exeunt.King. God a mercy old Heart, thou speak'st chearefully.Enter PistollPist. Che vous la?King. A friendPist. Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thoubase, common, and popular?King. I am a Gentleman of a CompanyPist. Trayl'st thou the puissant Pyke?King. Euen so: what are you?Pist. As good a Gentleman as the EmperorKing. Then you are a better then the KingPist. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, aLad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fistmost valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heartstringI loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?King. Harry le RoyPist. Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?King. No, I am a WelchmanPist. Know'st thou Fluellen?King. YesPist. Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vponS. Dauies dayKing. Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappethat day, least he knock that about yoursPist. Art thou his friend?King. And his Kinsman tooPist. The Figo for thee thenKing. I thanke you: God be with youPist. My name is Pistol call'd.Enter.King. It sorts well with your fiercenesse.Manet King.Enter Fluellen and Gower.Gower. Captaine FluellenFlu. 'So, in the Name of Iesu Christ, speake fewer: it is the greatest admiration in the vniuersall World, when the true and aunchient Prerogatifes and Lawes of the Warres is not kept: if you would take the paines but to examine the Warres of Pompey the Great, you shall finde, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle tadle nor pibble bable in Pompeyes Campe: I warrant you, you shall finde the Ceremonies of the Warres, and the Cares of it, and the Formes of it, and the Sobrietie of it, and the Modestie of it, to be otherwiseGower. Why the Enemie is lowd, you heare him allNightFlu. If the Enemie is an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should also, looke you, be an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe, in your owne conscience now? Gow. I will speake lowerFlu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.Enter.King. Though it appeare a little out of fashion,There is much care and valour in this Welchman.Enter three Souldiers, Iohn Bates, Alexander Court, and MichaelWilliams.Court. Brother Iohn Bates, is not that the Morningwhich breakes yonder?Bates. I thinke it be: but wee haue no great cause todesire the approach of dayWilliams. Wee see yonder the beginning of the day,but I thinke wee shall neuer see the end of it. Who goesthere?King. A FriendWilliams. Vnder what Captaine serue you?King. Vnder Sir Iohn ErpinghamWilliams. A good old Commander, and a most kindeGentleman: I pray you, what thinkes he of our estate?King. Euen as men wrackt vpon a Sand, that looke tobe washt off the next TydeBates. He hath not told his thought to the King? King. No: nor it is not meet he should: for though I speake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am: the Violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the Element shewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Nakednesse he appeares but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted then ours, yet when they stoupe, they stoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he sees reason of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of the same rellish as ours are: yet in reason, no man should possesse him with any appearance of feare; least hee, by shewing it, should dis-hearten his ArmyBates. He may shew what outward courage he will: but I beleeue, as cold a Night as 'tis, hee could wish himselfe in Thames vp to the Neck; and so I would he were, and I by him, at all aduentures, so we were quit hereKing. By my troth, I will speake my conscience of the King: I thinke hee would not wish himselfe any where, but where hee isBates. Then I would he were here alone; so should he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues sauedKing. I dare say, you loue him not so ill, to wish him here alone: howsoeuer you speake this to feele other mens minds, me thinks I could not dye any where so contented, as in the Kings company; his Cause being iust, and his Quarrell honorableWilliams. That's more then we knowBates. I, or more then wee should seeke after; for wee know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subiects: if his Cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the Cryme of it out of vsWilliams. But if the Cause be not good, the King himselfe hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all those Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile, shall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all, Wee dyed at such a place, some swearing, some crying for a Surgean; some vpon their Wiues, left poore behind them; some vpon the Debts they owe, some vpon their Children rawly left: I am afear'd, there are few dye well, that dye in a Battaile: for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if these men doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King, that led them to it; who to disobey, were against all proportion of subiectionKing. So, if a Sonne that is by his Father sent about Merchandize, doe sinfully miscarry vpon the Sea; the imputation of his wickednesse, by your rule, should be imposed vpon his Father that sent him: or if a Seruant, vnder his Masters command, transporting a summe of Money, be assayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil'd Iniquities; you may call the businesse of the Master the author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not so: The King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Master of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their seruices. Besides, there is no King, be his Cause neuer so spotlesse, if it come to the arbitrement of Swords, can trye it out with all vnspotted Souldiers: some (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of premeditated and contriued Murther; some, of beguiling Virgins with the broken Seales of Periurie; some, making the Warres their Bulwarke, that haue before gored the gentle Bosome of Peace with Pillage and Robberie. Now, if these men haue defeated the Law, and outrunne Natiue punishment; though they can out-strip men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: so that here men are punisht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death, they haue borne life away; and where they would bee safe, they perish. Then if they dye vnprouided, no more is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was before guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are now visited. Euery Subiects Dutie is the Kings, but euery Subiects Soule is his owne. Therefore should euery Souldier in the Warres doe as euery sicke man in his Bed, wash euery Moth out of his Conscience: and dying so, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was gayned: and in him that escapes, it were not sinne to thinke, that making God so free an offer, he let him outliue that day, to see his Greatnesse, and to teach others how they should prepareWill. 'Tis certaine, euery man that dyes ill, the ill vponhis owne head, the King is not to answer itBates. I doe not desire hee should answer for me, andyet I determine to fight lustily for himKing. I my selfe heard the King say he would not beransom'dWill. I, hee said so, to make vs fight chearefully: but when our throats are cut, hee may be ransom'd, and wee ne're the wiserKing. If I liue to see it, I will neuer trust his word afterWill. You pay him then: that's a perillous shot out of an Elder Gunne, that a poore and a priuate displeasure can doe against a Monarch: you may as well goe about to turne the Sunne to yce, with fanning in his face with a Peacocks feather: You'le neuer trust his word after; come, 'tis a foolish sayingKing. Your reproofe is something too round, I shouldbe angry with you, if the time were conuenientWill. Let it bee a Quarrell betweene vs, if youliueKing. I embrace itWill. How shall I know thee againe?King. Giue me any Gage of thine, and I will weare itin my Bonnet: Then if euer thou dar'st acknowledge it,I will make it my QuarrellWill. Heere's my Gloue: Giue mee another ofthineKing. ThereWill. This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou come to me, and say, after to morrow, This is my Gloue, by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eareKing. If euer I liue to see it, I will challenge itWill. Thou dar'st as well be hang'dKing. Well, I will doe it, though I take thee in theKings companieWill. Keepe thy word: fare thee wellBates. Be friends you English fooles, be friends, wee haue French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.Exit Souldiers.King. Indeede the French may lay twentie FrenchCrownes to one, they will beat vs, for they beare themon their shoulders: but it is no English Treason to cutFrench Crownes, and to morrow the King himselfe willbe a Clipper.Vpon the King, let vs our Liues, our Soules,Our Debts, our carefull Wiues,Our Children, and our Sinnes, lay on the King:We must beare all.O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatnesse,Subiect to the breath of euery foole, whose senceNo more can feele, but his owne wringing.What infinite hearts-ease must Kings neglect,That priuate men enioy?And what haue Kings, that Priuates haue not too,Saue Ceremonie, saue generall Ceremonie?And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?What kind of God art thou? that suffer'st moreOf mortall griefes, then doe thy worshippers.What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?O Ceremonie, shew me but thy worth.What? is thy Soule of Odoration?Art thou ought else but Place, Degree, and Forme,Creating awe and feare in other men?Wherein thou art lesse happy, being fear'd,Then they in fearing.What drink'st thou oft, in stead of Homage sweet,But poyson'd flatterie? O, be sick, great Greatnesse,And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe outWith Titles blowne from Adulation?Will it giue place to flexure and low bending?Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggers knee,Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,That play'st so subtilly with a Kings Repose.I am a King that find thee: and I know,'Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,The Sword, the Mase, the Crowne Imperiall,The enter-tissued Robe of Gold and Pearle,The farsed Title running 'fore the King,The Throne he sits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,That beates vpon the high shore of this World:No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;Not all these, lay'd in Bed Maiesticall,Can sleepe so soundly, as the wretched Slaue:Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,Gets him to rest, cram'd with distressefull bread,Neuer sees horride Night, the Child of Hell:But like a Lacquey, from the Rise to Set,Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all NightSleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,Doth rise and helpe Hiperio to his Horse,And followes so the euer-running yeereWith profitable labour to his Graue:And but for Ceremonie, such a Wretch,Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with sleepe,Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,Enioyes it; but in grosse braine little wots,What watch the King keepes, to maintaine the peace;Whose howres, the Pesant best aduantages.Enter Erpingham.Erp. My Lord, your Nobles iealous of your absence,Seeke through your Campe to find youKing. Good old Knight, collect them all togetherAt my Tent: Ile be before theeErp. I shall doo't, my Lord.Enter.King. O God of Battailes, steele my Souldiers hearts,Possesse them not with feare: Take from them nowThe sence of reckning of th' opposed numbers:Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,O not to day, thinke not vpon the faultMy Father made, in compassing the Crowne.I Richards body haue interred new,And on it haue bestowed more contrite teares,Then from it issued forced drops of blood.Fiue hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold vpToward Heauen, to pardon blood:And I haue built two Chauntries,Where the sad and solemne Priests sing stillFor Richards Soule. More will I doe:Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;Since that my Penitence comes after all,Imploring pardon.Enter Gloucester.Glouc. My LiegeKing. My Brother Gloucesters voyce? I:I know thy errand, I will goe with thee:The day, my friend, and all things stay for me.Exeunt.Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs, and Beaumont.Orleance. The Sunne doth gild our Armour vp, myLordsDolph. Monte Cheual: My Horse, Verlot Lacquay:HaOrleance. Oh braue SpiritDolph. Via les ewes & terreOrleance. Rien puis le air & feuDolph. Cein, Cousin Orleance.Enter Constable.Now my Lord Constable? Const. Hearke how our Steedes, for present Seruice neighDolph. Mount them, and make incision in their Hides,That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,And doubt them with superfluous courage: haRam. What, wil you haue them weep our Horses blood?How shall we then behold their naturall teares?Enter Messenger.Messeng. The English are embattail'd, you FrenchPeeresConst. To Horse you gallant Princes, straight to Horse.Doe but behold yond poore and starued Band,And your faire shew shall suck away their Soules,Leauing them but the shales and huskes of men.There is not worke enough for all our hands,Scarce blood enough in all their sickly Veines,To giue each naked Curtleax a stayne,That our French Gallants shall to day draw out,And sheath for lack of sport. Let vs but blow on them,The vapour of our Valour will o're-turne them.'Tis positiue against all exceptions, Lords,That our superfluous Lacquies, and our Pesants,Who in vnnecessarie action swarmeAbout our Squares of Battaile, were enowTo purge this field of such a hilding Foe;Though we vpon this Mountaines Basis by,Tooke stand for idle speculation:But that our Honours must not. What's to say?A very little little let vs doe,And all is done: then let the Trumpets soundThe Tucket Sonuance, and the Note to mount:For our approach shall so much dare the field,That England shall couch downe in feare, and yeeld.Enter Graundpree.Grandpree. Why do you stay so long, my Lords of France?Yond Iland Carrions, desperate of their bones,Ill-fauoredly become the Morning field:Their ragged Curtaines poorely are let loose,And our Ayre shakes them passing scornefully.Bigge Mars seemes banqu'rout in their begger'd Hoast,And faintly through a rustie Beuer peepes.The Horsemen sit like fixed Candlesticks,With Torch-staues in their hand: and their poore IadesLob downe their heads, dropping the hides and hips:The gumme downe roping from their pale-dead eyes,And in their pale dull mouthes the Iymold BittLyes foule with chaw'd-grasse, still and motionlesse.And their executors, the knauish Crowes,Flye o're them all, impatient for their howre.Description cannot sute it selfe in words,To demonstrate the Life of such a Battaile,In life so liuelesse, as it shewes it selfeConst. They haue said their prayers,And they stay for deathDolph. Shall we goe send them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,And giue their fasting Horses Prouender,And after fight with them?Const. I stay but for my Guard: onTo the field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,And vse it for my haste. Come, come away,The Sunne is high, and we out-weare the day.Exeunt.Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his Hoast:Salisbury, and Westmerland.Glouc. Where is the King?Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their BattaileWest. Of fighting men they haue full threescore thousandExe. There's fiue to one, besides they all are freshSalisb. Gods Arme strike with vs, 'tis a fearefull oddes.God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,My deare Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,And my kind Kinsman, Warriors all, adieuBedf. Farwell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee:And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valourExe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to dayBedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindnesse,Princely in both.Enter the King.West. O that we now had hereBut one ten thousand of those men in England,That doe no worke to dayKing. What's he that wishes so?My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:If we are markt to dye, we are enowTo doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,The fewer men, the greater share of honour.Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;Such outward things dwell not in my desires.But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,I am the most offending Soule aliue.No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,As one man more me thinkes would share from me,For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,That he which hath no stomack to this fight,Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:We would not dye in that mans companie,That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.He that shall see this day, and liue old age,Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:But hee'le remember, with aduantages,What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,Familiar in his mouth as household words,Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.This story shall the good man teach his sonne:And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,From this day to the ending of the World,But we in it shall be remembred;We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:For he to day that sheds his blood with me,Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,This day shall gentle his Condition.And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.Enter Salisbury.Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:The French are brauely in their battailes set,And will with all expedience charge on vsKing. All things are ready, if our minds be soWest. Perish the man, whose mind is backward nowKing. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,Couze?West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaileKing. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.You know your places: God be with you all.Tucket. Enter Montioy.Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercyThe Constable desires thee, thou wilt mindThy followers of Repentance; that their SoulesMay make a peacefull and a sweet retyreFrom off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodiesMust lye and festerKing. Who hath sent thee now?Mont. The Constable of FranceKing. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?The man that once did sell the Lyons skinWhile the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.A many of our bodyes shall no doubtFind Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trustShall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.Marke then abounding valour in our English:That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,We are but Warriors for the working day:Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrchtWith raynie Marching in the painefull field.There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluckThe gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,As if God please, they shall; my Ransome thenWill soone be leuyed.Herauld, saue thou thy labour:Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,Shall yeeld them little, tell the ConstableMont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.Enter.King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for aRansome.Enter Yorke.Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I beggeThe leading of the VawardKing. Take it, braue Yorke.Now Souldiers march away,And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.Exeunt.Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.Pist. Yeeld CurreFrench. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualiteePist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?What is thy Name? discusseFrench. O Seigneur DieuPist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur thou doe giue to me egregious RansomeFrench. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moyPist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: forI will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes ofCrimson bloodFrench. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton brasPist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious MountaineGoat, offer'st me Brasse?French. O perdonne moyPist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is hisNameBoy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle?French. Mounsieur le FerBoy. He sayes his Name is M. FerPist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:discusse the same in French vnto himBoy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, andfirkePist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throatFrench. Que dit il Mounsieur?Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vousprest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostregorgePist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt thou be by this my SwordFrench. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner, Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie vous donneray deux cent escusPist. What are his words?Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentlemanof a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you twohundred CrownesPist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crowneswill takeFren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucuneprisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets,il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisementFre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, etIe me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn CheualierIe pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieurd' AngleterrePist. Expound vnto me boyBoy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous and thrice-worthy signeur of EnglandPist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow meeBoy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine? I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boyes. Enter.Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures.Con. O DiableOrl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdieDol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,Reproach, and euerlasting shameSits mocking in our Plumes.A short Alarum.O meschante Fortune, do not runne awayCon. Why all our rankes are brokeDol. O perdurable shame, let's stab our selues:Be these the wretches that we plaid at dice for?Orl. Is this the King we sent too, for his ransome?Bur. Shame, and eternall shame, nothing but shame,Let vs dye in once more backe againe,And he that will not follow Burbon now,Let him go hence, and with his cap in handLike a base Pander hold the Chamber doore,Whilst a base slaue, no gentler then my dogge,His fairest daughter is contaminatedCon. Disorder that hath spoyl'd vs, friend vs now,Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liuesOrl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field,To smother vp the English in our throngs,If any order might be thought vponBur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng;Let life be short, else shame will be too long.Enter.Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.King. Well haue we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen,But all's not done, yet keepe the French the fieldExe. The D. of York commends him to your MaiestyKing. Liues he good Vnckle: thrice within this houreI saw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting,From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he wasExe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye,Larding the plaine: and by his bloody side,(Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds)The Noble Earle of Suffolke also lyes.Suffolke first dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouerComes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,And takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashesThat bloodily did yawne vpon his face.He cryes aloud; Tarry my Cosin Suffolke,My soule shall thine keepe company to heauen:Tarry (sweet soule) for mine, then flye a-brest:As in this glorious and well-foughten fieldWe kept together in our Chiualrie.Vpon these words I came, and cheer'd him vp,He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,And with a feeble gripe, sayes: Deere my Lord,Commend my seruice to my Soueraigne,So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes neckeHe threw his wounded arme, and kist his lippes,And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'dA Testament of Noble-ending-loue:The prettie and sweet manner of it forc'dThose waters from me, which I would haue stop'd,But I had not so much of man in mee,And all my mother came into mine eyes,And gaue me vp to tearesKing. I blame you not,For hearing this, I must perforce compoundWith mixtfull eyes, or they will issue to.AlarumBut hearke, what new alarum is this same?The French haue re-enforc'd their scatter'd men:Then euery souldiour kill his Prisoners,Giue the word through.ExitActus Quartus.Enter Fluellen and Gower.Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience now, is it not? Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners throat. O 'tis a gallant KingFlu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:What call you the Townes name where Alexander thepig was borne?Gow. Alexander the GreatFlu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variationsGower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I take itFlu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend ClytusGow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd any of his friendsFlu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his nameGow. Sir Iohn FalstaffeFlu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne at MonmouthGow. Heere comes his Maiesty.Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.King. I was not angry since I came to France,Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.If they'l do neither, we will come to them,And make them sker away, as swift as stonesEnforced from the old Assyrian slings:Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,And not a man of them that we shall take,Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.Enter Montioy.Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my LiegeGlou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to beKing. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowstthou not,That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?Com'st thou againe for ransome?Her. No great King:I come to thee for charitable License,That we may wander ore this bloody field,To booke our dead, and then to bury them,To sort our Nobles from our common men.For many of our Princes (woe the while)Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbesIn blood of Princes, and with wounded steedsFret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rageYerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,To view the field in safety, and disposeOf their dead bodiesKin. I tell thee truly Herald,I know not if the day be ours or no,For yet a many of your horsemen peere,And gallop ore the fieldHer. The day is yoursKin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:What is this Castle call'd that stands hard byHer. They call it AgincourtKing. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,Fought on the day of Crispin CrispianusFlu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought a most praue pattle here in FranceKin. They did FluellenFlu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon S. Tauies dayKing. I weare it for a memorable honor:For I am Welch you know good CountrimanFlu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your MaiestiesWelsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases hisGrace, and his Maiesty tooKin. Thankes good my CountrymenFlu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God so long as your Maiesty is an honest manKing. Good keepe me so.Enter Williams.Our Heralds go with him,Bring me iust notice of the numbers deadOn both our parts. Call yonder fellow hitherExe. Souldier, you must come to the KingKin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thyCappe?Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of onethat I should fight withall, if he be aliueKin. An Englishman? Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil strike it out soundlyKin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit thissouldier keepe his oathFlu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't pleaseyour Maiesty in my conscienceKing. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of greatsort quite from the answer of his degreeFlu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellowWil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liueKing. Who seru'st thou vnder?Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my LiegeFlu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledgeand literatured in the WarresKing. Call him hither to me, SouldierWill. I will my Liege.Enter.King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou do'st me loueFlu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see it once, and please God of his grace that I might seeKing. Know'st thou Gower?Flu. He is my deare friend, and please youKing. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to myTentFlu. I will fetch him.Enter.King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine shouldWeare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudgeBy his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:For I doe know Fluellen valiant,And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,And quickly will returne an iniurie.Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.Exeunt.Enter Gower and Williams.Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.Enter Fluellen.Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech you now, come apace to the King: there is more good toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to dreame ofWill. Sir, know you this Gloue?Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a GloueWill. I know this, and thus I challenge it.Strikes him.Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the VniuersallWorld, or in France, or in EnglandGower. How now Sir? you VillaineWill. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treasonhis payment into plowes, I warrant youWill. I am no TraytorFlu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in hisMaiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the DukeAlansons.Enter Warwick and Gloucester.Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter? Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his Maiestie. Enter King and Exeter.King. How now, what's the matter?Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue whichyour Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of AlansonWill. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as good as my wordFlu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience nowKing. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;Looke, heere is the fellow of it:'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,And thou hast giuen me most bitter termesFlu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answerefor it, if there is any Marshall Law in the WorldKing. How canst thou make me satisfaction?Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuercame any from mine, that might offend your MaiestieKing. It was our selfe thou didst abuseWill. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highnesse pardon meKing. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:And Captaine, you must needs be friends with himFlu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I warrant you it is the better for you
Const. This becomes the Great.Sorry am I his numbers are so few,His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome
King. Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,And let him say to England, that we send,To know what willing Ransome he will giue.Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan
Dolph. Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie
King. Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.
Exeunt.
Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower and Fluellen.
Gower. How now Captaine Fluellen, come you fromthe Bridge?Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent Seruices committedat the Bridge
Gower. Is the Duke of Exeter safe? Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon, and a man that I loue and honour with my soule, and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my liuing, and my vttermost power. He is not, God be praysed and blessed, any hurt in the World, but keepes the Bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very conscience hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthony, and hee is a man of no estimation in the World, but I did see him doe as gallant seruice
Gower. What doe you call him?Flu. Hee is call'd aunchient Pistoll
Gower. I know him not.Enter Pistoll.
Flu. Here is the man
Pist. Captaine, I thee beseech to doe me fauours: theDuke of Exeter doth loue thee well
Flu. I, I prayse God, and I haue merited some loue athis hands
Pist. Bardolph, a Souldier firme and sound of heart, and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie Fortunes furious fickle Wheele, that Goddesse blind, that stands vpon the rolling restlesse Stone
Flu. By your patience, aunchient Pistoll: Fortune is painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to signifie to you, that Fortune is blinde; and shee is painted also with a Wheele, to signifie to you, which is the Morall of it, that shee is turning and inconstant, and mutabilitie, and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed vpon a Sphericall Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles: in good truth, the Poet makes a most excellent description of it: Fortune is an excellent Morall
Pist. Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him: for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free, and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price. Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce; and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for his Life, and I will thee requite
Flu. Aunchient Pistoll, I doe partly vnderstand your meaning
Pist. Why then reioyce therefore
Flu. Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would desire the Duke to vse his good pleasure, and put him to execution; for discipline ought to be vsed
Pist. Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendship
Flu. It is well
Pist. The Figge of Spaine.Enter.
Flu. Very good
Gower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rascall, I remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purse
Flu. Ile assure you, a vtt'red as praue words at the Pridge, as you shall see in a Summers day: but it is very well: what he ha's spoke to me, that is well I warrant you, when time is serue
Gower. Why 'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done; at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Conuoy: who came off brauely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what termes the Enemy stood on: and this they conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke vp with new-tuned Oathes: and what a Beard of the Generalls Cut, and a horride Sute of the Campe, will doe among foming Bottles, and Ale-washt Wits, is wonderfull to be thought on: but you must learne to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be maruellously mistooke
Flu. I tell you what, Captaine Gower: I doe perceiue hee is not the man that hee would gladly make shew to the World hee is: if I finde a hole in his Coat, I will tell him my minde: hearke you, the King is comming, and I must speake with him from the Pridge.
Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his poore Souldiers.
Flu. God plesse your Maiestie
King. How now Fluellen, cam'st thou from the Bridge? Flu. I, so please your Maiestie: The Duke of Exeter ha's very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge; the French is gone off, looke you, and there is gallant and most praue passages: marry, th' athuersarie was haue possession of the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of Exeter is Master of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie, the Duke is a praue man
King. What men haue you lost, Fluellen? Flu. The perdition of th' athuersarie hath beene very great, reasonnable great: marry for my part, I thinke the Duke hath lost neuer a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Maiestie know the man: his face is all bubukles and whelkes, and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his nose, and it is like a coale of fire, sometimes plew, and sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire's out
King. Wee would haue all such offendors so cut off: and we giue expresse charge, that in our Marches through the Countrey, there be nothing compell'd from the Villages; nothing taken, but pay'd for: none of the French vpbrayded or abused in disdainefull Language; for when Leuitie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler Gamester is the soonest winner.
Tucket. Enter Mountioy.
Mountioy. You know me by my habit
King. Well then, I know thee: what shall I know ofthee?Mountioy. My Masters mind
King. Vnfold it
Mountioy. Thus sayes my King: Say thou to Harry of England, Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleepe: Aduantage is a better Souldier then rashnesse. Tell him, wee could haue rebuk'd him at Harflewe, but that wee thought not good to bruise an iniurie, till it were full ripe. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is imperiall: England shall repent his folly, see his weakenesse, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransome, which must proportion the losses we haue borne, the subiects we haue lost, the disgrace we haue digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettinesse would bow vnder. For our losses, his Exchequer is too poore; for th' effusion of our bloud, the Muster of his Kingdome too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his owne person kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worthlesse satisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is pronounc't: So farre my King and Master; so much my Office
King. What is thy name? I know thy qualitie
Mount. Mountioy
King. Thou doo'st thy Office fairely. Turne thee backe,And tell thy King, I doe not seeke him now,But could be willing to march on to Callice,Without impeachment: for to say the sooth,Though 'tis no wisdome to confesse so muchVnto an enemie of Craft and Vantage,My people are with sicknesse much enfeebled,My numbers lessen'd: and those few I haue,Almost no better then so many French;Who when they were in health, I tell thee Herald,I thought, vpon one payre of English LeggesDid march three Frenchmen. Yet forgiue me God,That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of FranceHath blowne that vice in me. I must repent:Goe therefore tell thy Master, heere I am;My Ransome, is this frayle and worthlesse Trunke;My Army, but a weake and sickly Guard:Yet God before, tell him we will come on,Though France himselfe, and such another NeighborStand in our way. There's for thy labour Mountioy.Goe bid thy Master well aduise himselfe.If we may passe, we will: if we be hindred,We shall your tawnie ground with your red bloodDiscolour: and so Mountioy, fare you well.The summe of all our Answer is but this:We would not seeke a Battaile as we are,Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it:So tell your Master
Mount. I shall deliuer so: Thankes to your Highnesse
Glouc. I hope they will not come vpon vs now
King. We are in Gods hand, Brother, not in theirs:March to the Bridge, it now drawes toward night,Beyond the Riuer wee'le encampe our selues,And on to morrow bid them march away.
Exeunt.
Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Ramburs, Orleance, Dolphin, with others.
Const. Tut, I haue the best Armour of the World:would it were day
Orleance. You haue an excellent Armour: but let myHorse haue his due
Const. It is the best Horse of Europe
Orleance. Will it neuer be Morning?Dolph. My Lord of Orleance, and my Lord High Constable,you talke of Horse and Armour?Orleance. You are as well prouided of both, as anyPrince in the World
Dolph. What a long Night is this? I will not change my Horse with any that treades but on foure postures: ch' ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were hayres: le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of Hermes
Orleance. Hee's of the colour of the Nutmeg
Dolph. And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beast for Perseus: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Elements of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but only in patient stillnesse while his Rider mounts him: hee is indeede a Horse, and all other Iades you may call Beasts
Const. Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellentHorse
Dolph. It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces Homage
Orleance. No more Cousin
Dolph. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from the rising of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe, varie deserued prayse on my Palfray: it is a Theame as fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues, and my Horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subiect for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs, and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions, and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse, and began thus, Wonder of Nature
Orleance. I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Mistresse
Dolph. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd to my Courser, for my Horse is my Mistresse
Orleance. Your Mistresse beares well
Dolph. Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfectionof a good and particular Mistresse
Const. Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresseshrewdly shooke your back
Dolph. So perhaps did yours
Const. Mine was not bridled
Dolph. O then belike she was old and gentle, and you rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in your strait Strossers
Const. You haue good iudgement in Horsemanship
Dolph. Be warn'd by me then: they that ride so, and ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue my Horse to my Mistresse
Const. I had as liue haue my Mistresse a Iade
Dolph. I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares hisowne hayre
Const. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had aSow to my Mistresse
Dolph. Le chien est retourne a son propre vemissement estla leuye lauee au bourbier: thou mak'st vse of any thing
Const. Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purpose
Ramb. My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw inyour Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?Const. Starres my Lord
Dolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope
Const. And yet my Sky shall not want
Dolph. That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,and 'twere more honor some were away
Const. Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, whowould trot as well, were some of your bragges dismounted
Dolph. Would I were able to loade him with his desert. Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile, and my way shall be paued with English Faces
Const. I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would faine be about the eares of the English
Ramb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentiePrisoners?Const. You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere youhaue them
Dolph. 'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.Enter.
Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morning
Ramb. He longs to eate the English
Const. I thinke he will eate all he kills
Orleance. By the white Hand of my Lady, hee's a gallantPrince
Const. Sweare by her Foot, that she may tread out theOath
Orleance. He is simply the most actiue Gentleman ofFrance
Const. Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doing
Orleance. He neuer did harme, that I heard of
Const. Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe that good name still
Orleance. I know him to be valiant
Const. I was told that, by one that knowes him betterthen you
Orleance. What's hee?Const. Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd heecar'd not who knew it
Orleance. Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue inhim
Const. By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it appeares, it will bate
Orleance. Ill will neuer sayd well
Const. I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatteriein friendship
Orleance. And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuillhis due
Const. Well plac't: there stands your friend for theDeuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, APox of the Deuill
Orleance. You are the better at Prouerbs, by how mucha Fooles Bolt is soone shot
Const. You haue shot ouer
Orleance. 'Tis not the first time you were ouer-shot.Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My Lord high Constable, the English lye withinfifteene hundred paces of your Tents
Const. Who hath measur'd the ground?Mess. The Lord Grandpree
Const. A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs not for the Dawning, as wee doe
Orleance. What a wretched and peeuish fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so farre out of his knowledge
Const. If the English had any apprehension, theywould runne away
Orleance. That they lack: for if their heads had any intellectuallArmour, they could neuer weare such heauieHead-pieces
Ramb. That Iland of England breedes very valiantCreatures; their Mastiffes are of vnmatchable courage
Orleance. Foolish Curres, that runne winking into the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that's a valiant Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a Lyon
Const. Iust, iust: and the men doe sympathize with the Mastiffes, in robustious and rough comming on, leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then giue them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele; they will eate like Wolues, and fight like Deuils
Orleance. I, but these English are shrowdly out ofBeefe
Const. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to arme: come, shall we about it? Orleance. It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius.
Chorus.
Now entertaine coniecture of a time,When creeping Murmure and the poring DarkeFills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse.From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of NightThe Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds;That the fixt Centinels almost receiueThe secret Whispers of each others Watch.Fire answers fire, and through their paly flamesEach Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull NeighsPiercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents,The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp,Giue dreadfull note of preparation.The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle:And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd,Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule,The confident and ouer-lustie French,Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night,Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpeSo tediously away. The poore condemned English,Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull FiresSit patiently, and inly ruminateThe Mornings danger: and their gesture sad,Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,Presented them vnto the gazing MooneSo many horride Ghosts. O now, who will beholdThe Royall Captaine of this ruin'd BandWalking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head:For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast,Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle,And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.Vpon his Royall Face there is no note,How dread an Army hath enrounded him;Nor doth he dedicate one iot of ColourVnto the wearie and all-watched Night:But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie:That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne,His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle allBehold, as may vnworthinesse define.A little touch of Harry in the Night,And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye:Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles,(Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see,Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.Enter.
Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.
King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,The greater therefore should our Courage be.God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie,There is some soule of goodnesse in things euill,Would men obseruingly distill it out.For our bad Neighbour makes vs early stirrers,Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry.Besides, they are our outward Consciences,And Preachers to vs all; admonishing,That we should dresse vs fairely for our end.Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,And make a Morall of the Diuell himselfe.Enter Erpingham.
Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham:A good soft Pillow for that good white Head,Were better then a churlish turfe of France
Erping. Not so my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,Since I may say, now lye I like a King
King. 'Tis good for men to loue their present paines,Vpon example, so the Spirit is eased:And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubtThe Organs, though defunct and dead before,Breake vp their drowsie Graue, and newly moueWith casted slough, and fresh legeritie.Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both,Commend me to the Princes in our Campe;Doe my good morrow to them, and anonDesire them all to my Pauillion
Gloster. We shall, my Liege
Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?King. No, my good Knight:Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:I and my Bosome must debate a while,And then I would no other company
Erping. The Lord in Heauen blesse thee, NobleHarry.
Exeunt.
King. God a mercy old Heart, thou speak'st chearefully.Enter Pistoll
Pist. Che vous la?King. A friend
Pist. Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thoubase, common, and popular?King. I am a Gentleman of a Company
Pist. Trayl'st thou the puissant Pyke?King. Euen so: what are you?Pist. As good a Gentleman as the Emperor
King. Then you are a better then the King
Pist. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, aLad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fistmost valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heartstringI loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?King. Harry le Roy
Pist. Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?King. No, I am a Welchman
Pist. Know'st thou Fluellen?King. Yes
Pist. Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vponS. Dauies day
King. Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappethat day, least he knock that about yours
Pist. Art thou his friend?King. And his Kinsman too
Pist. The Figo for thee then
King. I thanke you: God be with you
Pist. My name is Pistol call'd.Enter.
King. It sorts well with your fiercenesse.
Manet King.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Gower. Captaine Fluellen
Flu. 'So, in the Name of Iesu Christ, speake fewer: it is the greatest admiration in the vniuersall World, when the true and aunchient Prerogatifes and Lawes of the Warres is not kept: if you would take the paines but to examine the Warres of Pompey the Great, you shall finde, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle tadle nor pibble bable in Pompeyes Campe: I warrant you, you shall finde the Ceremonies of the Warres, and the Cares of it, and the Formes of it, and the Sobrietie of it, and the Modestie of it, to be otherwise
Gower. Why the Enemie is lowd, you heare him allNight
Flu. If the Enemie is an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should also, looke you, be an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe, in your owne conscience now? Gow. I will speake lower
Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.Enter.
King. Though it appeare a little out of fashion,There is much care and valour in this Welchman.Enter three Souldiers, Iohn Bates, Alexander Court, and MichaelWilliams.
Court. Brother Iohn Bates, is not that the Morningwhich breakes yonder?Bates. I thinke it be: but wee haue no great cause todesire the approach of day
Williams. Wee see yonder the beginning of the day,but I thinke wee shall neuer see the end of it. Who goesthere?King. A Friend
Williams. Vnder what Captaine serue you?King. Vnder Sir Iohn Erpingham
Williams. A good old Commander, and a most kindeGentleman: I pray you, what thinkes he of our estate?King. Euen as men wrackt vpon a Sand, that looke tobe washt off the next Tyde
Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King? King. No: nor it is not meet he should: for though I speake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am: the Violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the Element shewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Nakednesse he appeares but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted then ours, yet when they stoupe, they stoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he sees reason of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of the same rellish as ours are: yet in reason, no man should possesse him with any appearance of feare; least hee, by shewing it, should dis-hearten his Army
Bates. He may shew what outward courage he will: but I beleeue, as cold a Night as 'tis, hee could wish himselfe in Thames vp to the Neck; and so I would he were, and I by him, at all aduentures, so we were quit here
King. By my troth, I will speake my conscience of the King: I thinke hee would not wish himselfe any where, but where hee is
Bates. Then I would he were here alone; so should he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues saued
King. I dare say, you loue him not so ill, to wish him here alone: howsoeuer you speake this to feele other mens minds, me thinks I could not dye any where so contented, as in the Kings company; his Cause being iust, and his Quarrell honorable
Williams. That's more then we know
Bates. I, or more then wee should seeke after; for wee know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subiects: if his Cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the Cryme of it out of vs
Williams. But if the Cause be not good, the King himselfe hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all those Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile, shall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all, Wee dyed at such a place, some swearing, some crying for a Surgean; some vpon their Wiues, left poore behind them; some vpon the Debts they owe, some vpon their Children rawly left: I am afear'd, there are few dye well, that dye in a Battaile: for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if these men doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King, that led them to it; who to disobey, were against all proportion of subiection
King. So, if a Sonne that is by his Father sent about Merchandize, doe sinfully miscarry vpon the Sea; the imputation of his wickednesse, by your rule, should be imposed vpon his Father that sent him: or if a Seruant, vnder his Masters command, transporting a summe of Money, be assayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil'd Iniquities; you may call the businesse of the Master the author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not so: The King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Master of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their seruices. Besides, there is no King, be his Cause neuer so spotlesse, if it come to the arbitrement of Swords, can trye it out with all vnspotted Souldiers: some (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of premeditated and contriued Murther; some, of beguiling Virgins with the broken Seales of Periurie; some, making the Warres their Bulwarke, that haue before gored the gentle Bosome of Peace with Pillage and Robberie. Now, if these men haue defeated the Law, and outrunne Natiue punishment; though they can out-strip men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: so that here men are punisht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death, they haue borne life away; and where they would bee safe, they perish. Then if they dye vnprouided, no more is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was before guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are now visited. Euery Subiects Dutie is the Kings, but euery Subiects Soule is his owne. Therefore should euery Souldier in the Warres doe as euery sicke man in his Bed, wash euery Moth out of his Conscience: and dying so, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was gayned: and in him that escapes, it were not sinne to thinke, that making God so free an offer, he let him outliue that day, to see his Greatnesse, and to teach others how they should prepare
Will. 'Tis certaine, euery man that dyes ill, the ill vponhis owne head, the King is not to answer it
Bates. I doe not desire hee should answer for me, andyet I determine to fight lustily for him
King. I my selfe heard the King say he would not beransom'd
Will. I, hee said so, to make vs fight chearefully: but when our throats are cut, hee may be ransom'd, and wee ne're the wiser
King. If I liue to see it, I will neuer trust his word after
Will. You pay him then: that's a perillous shot out of an Elder Gunne, that a poore and a priuate displeasure can doe against a Monarch: you may as well goe about to turne the Sunne to yce, with fanning in his face with a Peacocks feather: You'le neuer trust his word after; come, 'tis a foolish saying
King. Your reproofe is something too round, I shouldbe angry with you, if the time were conuenient
Will. Let it bee a Quarrell betweene vs, if youliue
King. I embrace it
Will. How shall I know thee againe?King. Giue me any Gage of thine, and I will weare itin my Bonnet: Then if euer thou dar'st acknowledge it,I will make it my Quarrell
Will. Heere's my Gloue: Giue mee another ofthine
King. There
Will. This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou come to me, and say, after to morrow, This is my Gloue, by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eare
King. If euer I liue to see it, I will challenge it
Will. Thou dar'st as well be hang'd
King. Well, I will doe it, though I take thee in theKings companie
Will. Keepe thy word: fare thee well
Bates. Be friends you English fooles, be friends, wee haue French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.
Exit Souldiers.
King. Indeede the French may lay twentie FrenchCrownes to one, they will beat vs, for they beare themon their shoulders: but it is no English Treason to cutFrench Crownes, and to morrow the King himselfe willbe a Clipper.Vpon the King, let vs our Liues, our Soules,Our Debts, our carefull Wiues,Our Children, and our Sinnes, lay on the King:We must beare all.O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatnesse,Subiect to the breath of euery foole, whose senceNo more can feele, but his owne wringing.What infinite hearts-ease must Kings neglect,That priuate men enioy?And what haue Kings, that Priuates haue not too,Saue Ceremonie, saue generall Ceremonie?And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?What kind of God art thou? that suffer'st moreOf mortall griefes, then doe thy worshippers.What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?O Ceremonie, shew me but thy worth.What? is thy Soule of Odoration?Art thou ought else but Place, Degree, and Forme,Creating awe and feare in other men?Wherein thou art lesse happy, being fear'd,Then they in fearing.What drink'st thou oft, in stead of Homage sweet,But poyson'd flatterie? O, be sick, great Greatnesse,And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe outWith Titles blowne from Adulation?Will it giue place to flexure and low bending?Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggers knee,Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,That play'st so subtilly with a Kings Repose.I am a King that find thee: and I know,'Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,The Sword, the Mase, the Crowne Imperiall,The enter-tissued Robe of Gold and Pearle,The farsed Title running 'fore the King,The Throne he sits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,That beates vpon the high shore of this World:No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;Not all these, lay'd in Bed Maiesticall,Can sleepe so soundly, as the wretched Slaue:Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,Gets him to rest, cram'd with distressefull bread,Neuer sees horride Night, the Child of Hell:But like a Lacquey, from the Rise to Set,Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all NightSleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,Doth rise and helpe Hiperio to his Horse,And followes so the euer-running yeereWith profitable labour to his Graue:And but for Ceremonie, such a Wretch,Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with sleepe,Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,Enioyes it; but in grosse braine little wots,What watch the King keepes, to maintaine the peace;Whose howres, the Pesant best aduantages.Enter Erpingham.
Erp. My Lord, your Nobles iealous of your absence,Seeke through your Campe to find you
King. Good old Knight, collect them all togetherAt my Tent: Ile be before thee
Erp. I shall doo't, my Lord.Enter.
King. O God of Battailes, steele my Souldiers hearts,Possesse them not with feare: Take from them nowThe sence of reckning of th' opposed numbers:Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,O not to day, thinke not vpon the faultMy Father made, in compassing the Crowne.I Richards body haue interred new,And on it haue bestowed more contrite teares,Then from it issued forced drops of blood.Fiue hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold vpToward Heauen, to pardon blood:And I haue built two Chauntries,Where the sad and solemne Priests sing stillFor Richards Soule. More will I doe:Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;Since that my Penitence comes after all,Imploring pardon.Enter Gloucester.
Glouc. My Liege
King. My Brother Gloucesters voyce? I:I know thy errand, I will goe with thee:The day, my friend, and all things stay for me.
Exeunt.
Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs, and Beaumont.
Orleance. The Sunne doth gild our Armour vp, myLords
Dolph. Monte Cheual: My Horse, Verlot Lacquay:Ha
Orleance. Oh braue Spirit
Dolph. Via les ewes & terre
Orleance. Rien puis le air & feu
Dolph. Cein, Cousin Orleance.Enter Constable.
Now my Lord Constable? Const. Hearke how our Steedes, for present Seruice neigh
Dolph. Mount them, and make incision in their Hides,That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,And doubt them with superfluous courage: ha
Ram. What, wil you haue them weep our Horses blood?How shall we then behold their naturall teares?Enter Messenger.
Messeng. The English are embattail'd, you FrenchPeeres
Const. To Horse you gallant Princes, straight to Horse.Doe but behold yond poore and starued Band,And your faire shew shall suck away their Soules,Leauing them but the shales and huskes of men.There is not worke enough for all our hands,Scarce blood enough in all their sickly Veines,To giue each naked Curtleax a stayne,That our French Gallants shall to day draw out,And sheath for lack of sport. Let vs but blow on them,The vapour of our Valour will o're-turne them.'Tis positiue against all exceptions, Lords,That our superfluous Lacquies, and our Pesants,Who in vnnecessarie action swarmeAbout our Squares of Battaile, were enowTo purge this field of such a hilding Foe;Though we vpon this Mountaines Basis by,Tooke stand for idle speculation:But that our Honours must not. What's to say?A very little little let vs doe,And all is done: then let the Trumpets soundThe Tucket Sonuance, and the Note to mount:For our approach shall so much dare the field,That England shall couch downe in feare, and yeeld.Enter Graundpree.
Grandpree. Why do you stay so long, my Lords of France?Yond Iland Carrions, desperate of their bones,Ill-fauoredly become the Morning field:Their ragged Curtaines poorely are let loose,And our Ayre shakes them passing scornefully.Bigge Mars seemes banqu'rout in their begger'd Hoast,And faintly through a rustie Beuer peepes.The Horsemen sit like fixed Candlesticks,With Torch-staues in their hand: and their poore IadesLob downe their heads, dropping the hides and hips:The gumme downe roping from their pale-dead eyes,And in their pale dull mouthes the Iymold BittLyes foule with chaw'd-grasse, still and motionlesse.And their executors, the knauish Crowes,Flye o're them all, impatient for their howre.Description cannot sute it selfe in words,To demonstrate the Life of such a Battaile,In life so liuelesse, as it shewes it selfe
Const. They haue said their prayers,And they stay for death
Dolph. Shall we goe send them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,And giue their fasting Horses Prouender,And after fight with them?Const. I stay but for my Guard: onTo the field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,And vse it for my haste. Come, come away,The Sunne is high, and we out-weare the day.
Exeunt.
Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his Hoast:Salisbury, and Westmerland.
Glouc. Where is the King?Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their Battaile
West. Of fighting men they haue full threescore thousand
Exe. There's fiue to one, besides they all are fresh
Salisb. Gods Arme strike with vs, 'tis a fearefull oddes.God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,My deare Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,And my kind Kinsman, Warriors all, adieu
Bedf. Farwell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee:And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valour
Exe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to day
Bedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindnesse,Princely in both.Enter the King.
West. O that we now had hereBut one ten thousand of those men in England,That doe no worke to day
King. What's he that wishes so?My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:If we are markt to dye, we are enowTo doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,The fewer men, the greater share of honour.Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;Such outward things dwell not in my desires.But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,I am the most offending Soule aliue.No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,As one man more me thinkes would share from me,For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,That he which hath no stomack to this fight,Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:We would not dye in that mans companie,That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.He that shall see this day, and liue old age,Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:But hee'le remember, with aduantages,What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,Familiar in his mouth as household words,Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.This story shall the good man teach his sonne:And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,From this day to the ending of the World,But we in it shall be remembred;We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:For he to day that sheds his blood with me,Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,This day shall gentle his Condition.And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.Enter Salisbury.
Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:The French are brauely in their battailes set,And will with all expedience charge on vs
King. All things are ready, if our minds be so
West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now
King. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,Couze?West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile
King. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.You know your places: God be with you all.
Tucket. Enter Montioy.
Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercyThe Constable desires thee, thou wilt mindThy followers of Repentance; that their SoulesMay make a peacefull and a sweet retyreFrom off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodiesMust lye and fester
King. Who hath sent thee now?Mont. The Constable of France
King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?The man that once did sell the Lyons skinWhile the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.A many of our bodyes shall no doubtFind Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trustShall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.Marke then abounding valour in our English:That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,We are but Warriors for the working day:Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrchtWith raynie Marching in the painefull field.There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluckThe gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,As if God please, they shall; my Ransome thenWill soone be leuyed.Herauld, saue thou thy labour:Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable
Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.Enter.
King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for aRansome.Enter Yorke.
Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I beggeThe leading of the Vaward
King. Take it, braue Yorke.Now Souldiers march away,And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.
Exeunt.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.
Pist. Yeeld Curre
French. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee
Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?What is thy Name? discusse
French. O Seigneur Dieu
Pist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome
French. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy
Pist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: forI will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes ofCrimson blood
French. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras
Pist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious MountaineGoat, offer'st me Brasse?French. O perdonne moy
Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is hisName
Boy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle?French. Mounsieur le Fer
Boy. He sayes his Name is M. Fer
Pist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:discusse the same in French vnto him
Boy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, andfirke
Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat
French. Que dit il Mounsieur?Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vousprest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostregorge
Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt thou be by this my Sword
French. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner, Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie vous donneray deux cent escus
Pist. What are his words?Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentlemanof a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you twohundred Crownes
Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crowneswill take
Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucuneprisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets,il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisement
Fre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, etIe me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn CheualierIe pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieurd' Angleterre
Pist. Expound vnto me boy
Boy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous and thrice-worthy signeur of England
Pist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow mee
Boy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine? I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boyes. Enter.
Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures.
Con. O Diable
Orl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdie
Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,Reproach, and euerlasting shameSits mocking in our Plumes.
A short Alarum.
O meschante Fortune, do not runne away
Con. Why all our rankes are broke
Dol. O perdurable shame, let's stab our selues:Be these the wretches that we plaid at dice for?Orl. Is this the King we sent too, for his ransome?Bur. Shame, and eternall shame, nothing but shame,Let vs dye in once more backe againe,And he that will not follow Burbon now,Let him go hence, and with his cap in handLike a base Pander hold the Chamber doore,Whilst a base slaue, no gentler then my dogge,His fairest daughter is contaminated
Con. Disorder that hath spoyl'd vs, friend vs now,Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liues
Orl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field,To smother vp the English in our throngs,If any order might be thought vpon
Bur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng;Let life be short, else shame will be too long.Enter.
Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.
King. Well haue we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen,But all's not done, yet keepe the French the field
Exe. The D. of York commends him to your MaiestyKing. Liues he good Vnckle: thrice within this houreI saw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting,From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he was
Exe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye,Larding the plaine: and by his bloody side,(Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds)The Noble Earle of Suffolke also lyes.Suffolke first dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouerComes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,And takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashesThat bloodily did yawne vpon his face.He cryes aloud; Tarry my Cosin Suffolke,My soule shall thine keepe company to heauen:Tarry (sweet soule) for mine, then flye a-brest:As in this glorious and well-foughten fieldWe kept together in our Chiualrie.Vpon these words I came, and cheer'd him vp,He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,And with a feeble gripe, sayes: Deere my Lord,Commend my seruice to my Soueraigne,So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes neckeHe threw his wounded arme, and kist his lippes,And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'dA Testament of Noble-ending-loue:The prettie and sweet manner of it forc'dThose waters from me, which I would haue stop'd,But I had not so much of man in mee,And all my mother came into mine eyes,And gaue me vp to teares
King. I blame you not,For hearing this, I must perforce compoundWith mixtfull eyes, or they will issue to.
Alarum
But hearke, what new alarum is this same?The French haue re-enforc'd their scatter'd men:Then euery souldiour kill his Prisoners,Giue the word through.
Exit
Actus Quartus.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience now, is it not? Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners throat. O 'tis a gallant King
Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:What call you the Townes name where Alexander thepig was borne?Gow. Alexander the Great
Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variations
Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I take it
Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend Clytus
Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd any of his friends
Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name
Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne at Monmouth
Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.
Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.
King. I was not angry since I came to France,Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.If they'l do neither, we will come to them,And make them sker away, as swift as stonesEnforced from the old Assyrian slings:Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,And not a man of them that we shall take,Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.Enter Montioy.
Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my LiegeGlou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be
King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowstthou not,That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?Com'st thou againe for ransome?Her. No great King:I come to thee for charitable License,That we may wander ore this bloody field,To booke our dead, and then to bury them,To sort our Nobles from our common men.For many of our Princes (woe the while)Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbesIn blood of Princes, and with wounded steedsFret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rageYerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,To view the field in safety, and disposeOf their dead bodies
Kin. I tell thee truly Herald,I know not if the day be ours or no,For yet a many of your horsemen peere,And gallop ore the field
Her. The day is yours
Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by
Her. They call it Agincourt
King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus
Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought a most praue pattle here in France
Kin. They did Fluellen
Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon S. Tauies day
King. I weare it for a memorable honor:For I am Welch you know good Countriman
Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your MaiestiesWelsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases hisGrace, and his Maiesty too
Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen
Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God so long as your Maiesty is an honest man
King. Good keepe me so.Enter Williams.
Our Heralds go with him,Bring me iust notice of the numbers deadOn both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither
Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King
Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thyCappe?Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of onethat I should fight withall, if he be aliue
Kin. An Englishman? Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil strike it out soundly
Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit thissouldier keepe his oath
Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't pleaseyour Maiesty in my conscience
King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of greatsort quite from the answer of his degree
Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow
Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue
King. Who seru'st thou vnder?Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege
Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledgeand literatured in the Warres
King. Call him hither to me, Souldier
Will. I will my Liege.Enter.
King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou do'st me loue
Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see it once, and please God of his grace that I might see
King. Know'st thou Gower?Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you
King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to myTent
Flu. I will fetch him.Enter.
King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine shouldWeare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudgeBy his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:For I doe know Fluellen valiant,And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,And quickly will returne an iniurie.Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.
Exeunt.
Enter Gower and Williams.
Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.Enter Fluellen.
Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech you now, come apace to the King: there is more good toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to dreame of
Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue
Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.
Strikes him.
Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the VniuersallWorld, or in France, or in England
Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine
Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treasonhis payment into plowes, I warrant you
Will. I am no Traytor
Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in hisMaiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the DukeAlansons.Enter Warwick and Gloucester.
Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter? Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his Maiestie. Enter King and Exeter.
King. How now, what's the matter?Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue whichyour Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson
Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as good as my word
Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience now
King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;Looke, heere is the fellow of it:'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes
Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answerefor it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World
King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuercame any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie
King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse
Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highnesse pardon me
King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him
Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I warrant you it is the better for you