Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness, and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Let it pry through the portage of the head,

white-liver'd, and red-faced; by the means whereof, 'a faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol,-he hath a killing tongue, and a quiet sword; by the means whereof 'a breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,-he hath heard, that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest 'a should be thought a coward: but his few bad words are match'd with as few good deeds; for 'a never broke any man's

Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it, head but his own; and that was against a post,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height!-On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is set from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest,
That those, whom you call fathers, did beget you!
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war!-And you, good
yeomen,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt

not;

For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot;
Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,
Cry-God for Harry! England! and Saint George!
[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off

SCENE II.-The same.

when he was drunk. They will steal any thing,
and call it,-purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case;
bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three half-
pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in
filching; and in Calais they stole a fire-shovel: I
knew, by that piece of service, the men would carry
coals. They would have ine as familiar with men's
pockets, as their gloves or their handkerchiefs:
which makes much against my manhood, if I
should take from another's pocket, to put into
mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I
must leave them, and seek some better service:
their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and
therefore I must cast it up.
[Exit Boy.

Re-enter Fluellen, Gower following.
Gom. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently
to the mines; the duke of Gloster would speak with
you.

Flu. To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good to come to the mines: For, look you, the mines is not according to the disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, th' athversary (you may discuss unto the duke, look you,) is dight himself four yards under the countermines; by Cheshu, I think, 'a will plow up all, if there is not better directions.

Gor. The duke of Gloster, to whom the order of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an

Forces pass over; then enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, Irishman; a very valiant gentleman, i'faith.

and Boy.

Bard. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!

Nym. 'Pray thee, corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: the humour of it is too hot, that is the rery plain-song of it.

Pist. The plain-song is most just; for humours
do abound;

Knocks go and come: God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,

In bloody field,

Doth win immortal fame.

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

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

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

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Got's plood!-Up to the preaches, you rascals! will you not up to the preaches?

[Driving them forward. Pist. Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould! Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage! Abate thy rage, great duke! Good bawcock, bate thy rage! use lenity, sweet chuck!

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

[Exeunt Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph, followed by Fluellen. Boy. As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers. I am boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me: for, indeed, three such anticks do not amount to a man. For Bardolph-he is

Flu. It is captain Macmorris, is it not?
Gow. I think, it be.

Flu. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the 'orld: I directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look will verify as much in his peard: he has no more you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppydog.

Enter Macmorris and Jamy, at a distance.

tain Jamy, with him.
Gow. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, cap-

Flu. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is certain and of great expedition, and knowledge, in the ancient wars, upon my par. will maintain his argument as well as any military ticular knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he man in the 'orld, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.

Jamy. I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen.

Flu. God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy.

Gow. How now, captain Macmorris ? have you quit the mines? have the pioneers given o'er ?

By

Mac. By Chrish la, tish ill done: the work ish give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. my hand, I swear, and by my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O, tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand,

tish ill done!

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I peseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly, to satisfy my opinion, and partly, for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline; that is the point.

Jamy. It sall be very gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I, marry.

Mac. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save | The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand me, the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; and the king, and the dukes; it is no time to dis- Your fathers taken by the silver beards, course. The town is beseeched, and the trumpet And their most reverend heads dash'd to the calls us to the breach; and we talk, and, by Chrish, do nothing; 'tis shame for us all so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la.

Alice. De foot, madame; et de con. Kath. De foot, et de con? O Seigneur Dieu ? ces sont mots de son mauvais, corruptible, grosse, et impudique, et non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: Je ne voudrois prononcer ces mots devant les Seigneurs de France, pour tout le monde. Il faut de foot, et de con, neant-moins. Je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon ensemble: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de elbow, de neck, de sin, de foot, de con.

Alice. Excellent, madame!

Kath. C'est assez pour une fois; allons nous a disner. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-The same. Another Room in the

same.

Enter the French King, the Dauphin, Duke of
Bourbon, the Constable of France, and others.
Fr. King. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river
Some.

Con. And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
Let us not live in France; let us quit all,
And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.

Dau. O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,-
The emptying of our fathers' luxury,

Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
Spurt up so suddenly into the clouds,

And overlook their grafters ?

Sorry am I, his numbers are so few,
His soldiers sick, and famish'd in their march ·
For, I am sure, when he shall see our army,
He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
And, for achievement, offer us his ransome.
Fr. King. Therefore, lord constable, haste on
Montjoy ;

And let him say to England, that we send
To know what willing ransome he will give.--
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
Dau. Not so, I do beseech your majesty.

Fr. King. Be patient, for you shall remain with

u3.

Now, forth, lord constable, and princes all;
And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The English Camp in Picardy.
Enter Gower and Fluellen.

Gow. How now, captain Fluellen ? come you from the bridge?

Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent service committed at the pridge.

Gow. Is the duke of Exeter safe?

Flu. The duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my

Bour. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman life, and my livings, and my uttermost powers: he

bastards!

Mort de ma vie ! if they march along

Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,

To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm

In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.

is not, (God be praised and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ensign there at the pridge,-I think, in my very conscience, he is as valiant as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no lant service.

Con. Dieu de battailes! where have they this estimation in the 'orld: but I did see him do gal

mettle?

people

Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields;
Poor-we may call them, in their native lords.

Dau. By faith and honour,

Our madams mock at us; and plainly say,
Our mettle is bred out; and they will give
Their bodies to the lust of English youth,
To new-store France with bastard warriors.
Bour. They bid us to the English dancing-
schools,

And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos;
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.

Fr. King. Where is Montjoy, the herald? speed
him hence;

Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.-
Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edg'd,
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry.
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and
knights,

For your great seats, now quit you of great shames,
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur:
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the vallies: whose low vassal seat

The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon :
Go down upon him,-you have power enough,-
And in a captive chariot, into Rouen
Bring him our prisoner.
Con.

Gow. What do you call him?

Flu. He is called-ancient Pistol.
Gow. I know him not.

Enter Pistol.

Flu. Do you not know him? Here comes the

man.

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

Flu. Ay, I praise Got; and I have merited some love at his hands.

Pist. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of
heart,

Of buxom valour, hath,-by cruel fate,
And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind,

That stands upon the rolling restless stone,

Flu. By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to signify to you that fortune is plind: And she is painted also with a wheel; to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and variations, and mutabilities and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls;-In good truth, the poet is make a most excellent description of fortune: fortune, look you, is an excellent moral.

Pist. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns or.

him ;

For he hath stol'n a pix, and hanged must 'a be.
A damned death!

Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free,
And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate:
But Exeter hath given the doom of death,
For pix of little price.

Therefore, go speak, the duke will hear thy voice;
And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
With edge of penny cord, and vile reproach:
Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite,
Flu. Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand your
meaning.

Pist. Why then rejoice therefore.

Flu. Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at: for if, look you, he were my brother, I This becomes the great. would desire the duke to use his goot pleasure, and

must proportion the losses we have borne, the sub-
jects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested;
which, in weight to re-answer, his pettiness would
bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is too
poor; for the effusion of our blood, the muster of
his kingdom too faint a number; and for our dis-
grace, his own person, kneeling at our feet, but a
weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add-de-
fiance and tell him, for conclusion, he hath be-
trayed his followers, whose condemnation is pro-
nounced. So far my king and master; so much my
office.
K. Hen. What is thy name? I know thy quality
Mont. Montjoy.

K. Hen. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee
back,

Gon. Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue; that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself, at his return into London, under the form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in great commanders' And tell thy king,-I do not seek him now; names and they will learn you by rote, where ser-But could be willing to march on to Calais vices were done;-at such and such a sconce, at Without impeachment: for, to say the sooth, such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off (Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much bravely, who was shot, who disgraced, what terms Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,) the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in My people are with sickness much enfeebled; the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have, tuned oaths: And what a beard of the general's cut, Almost no better than so many French: and a horrid suit of the camp, will do among foam- Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald, ing bottles, and ale-washed wits, is wonderful to be I thought, upon one pair of English legs thought on! but you must learn to know such slan- Did march three Frenchmen.-Yet, forgive me, ders of the age, or else you may be marvellous misGod, took. That I do brag thus !-this your air of France Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent. Go, therefore, tell thy master, here I am; My ransome, is this frail and worthless trunk; My army, but a weak and sickly guard ; Yet, God before, tell him we will come on, Though France himself, and such another neighbour, Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy. Go bid thy master well advise himself: If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd, We shall your tawny ground with your red blood Discolour: and so, Montjoy, fare you well. The sum of all our answer is but this : We would not seek a battle, as we are : Nor as we are, we say, we will not shun it; So tell your master.

Flu. I tell you what, captain Gower;-I do perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the 'orld he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. [Drum heard.] Hark you, the king is coming; And I must speak with him from the pridge.

Enter King Henry, Gloster, and Soldiers. Flu. Got pless your majesty!

K. Hen. How now, Fluellen? camest thou from the bridge ?

Flu. Ay, so please your majesty. The duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintained the pridge: the French is gone off, look you; and there is gal. lant and most prave passages: Marry, th'athversary was have possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to retire, and the duke of Exeter is master of the pridge: I can tell your majesty, the duke is a prave man.

K. Hen. What men have you lost, Fluellen ? Flu. The perdition of th'athversary hath been very great, very reasonable great: marry, for my part, I think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your majesty know the man: his face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips plows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue, and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.

K. Hen. We would have all such offenders so cut off:-and we give express charge, that, in our marches through the country, there be nothing compelled from the villages, nothing taken but paid for; none of the French upbraided, or abused in disdainful language; For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.

Tucket sounds. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. You know me by my habit.

K. Hen. Well then, I know thee; What shall I
know of thee?

Mont. My master's mind.
K. Hen. Unfold it.

ness.

Mont. I shall deliver so. Thanks to your high-
[Exit Montjoy.
Glo. I hope, they will not come upon us now.
K. Hen. We are in God's hand, brother, not in
theirs.

March to the bridge; it now draws toward night,——
Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves;
And on to-morrow bid them march away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.-The French Camp, near Agincourt.
Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures,
the Duke of Orleans, Dauphin, and others.
Con. Tut! I have the best armour of the world.-
'Would it were day!

Orl. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.

Con. It is the best horse of Europe.
Orl. Will it never be morning?
Dau. My lord of Orleans, and my lord high con-
stable, you talk of horse and armour,-

Orl. You are as well provided of both as any prince in the world.

Dau. What a long night is this!I will not change my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. Ca, ha! He bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the PegaMont. Thus says my king:- Say thou to Harry of sus, qui a les narines de feu! When I bestride him, England, Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep; I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his him, we could have rebuked him at Harfleur: but hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes. that we thought not good to bruise an injury, till Orl. He's of the colour of the nutmeg. it were fuil ripe:-now we speak upon our cue, and Dau. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast our voice is imperial: England shall repent his folly, for Perseus: he is pure air and fire; and the dull see his weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid elements of earth and water never appear in him, him, therefore, consider of his ransome which but only in patient stillness, while his rider mounts

Orl. That they lack; for if their heads had any Dau. Le chien est retourne a son propre vomisse-intellectual armour, they could never wear, such ment, et la truie lavee au bourbier: thou makest use of any thing.