456

That play'st so subtly with a king's repose ;
I am a king, that find thee; and I know,
'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The inter-tissued robe of gold and pearl,
The farced' title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the high shore of this world,
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,

Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave;
Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell;
But, like a lackey, from the rise to set,
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day, after dawn,
Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse;
And follows so the ever-running year,
With profitable labour, to his grave:
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots,
What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
Whose hours the peasant best advantages.

Enter Erpingham.

Erp. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your ab-
sence,

Seek through your camp to find you.
K. Hen.

Dau. Via!-les eaux et la terre-
Orl. Rien puis? l'air et le feu-
Dau. Ciel! cousin Orleans.-

Enter Constable.

Now, my lord constable!

Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh.

Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their

hides;

That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
And dout them with superfluous courage: Ha!
Ram. What, will you have them weep our
horses' blood?

How shall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers.

Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to
horse!

Do but behold yon poor and starved band,
And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands;
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins,
To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,

That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
And sheath for lack of sport: let us but blow on
them,

The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
Good old knight, That our superfluous lackey's, and our peasants,—
Who, in unnecessary action, swarm
About our squares of battle,-were enough
[Exit. To purge this field of such a hilding foe;
Though we, upon this mountain's basis by,
Took stand for idle speculation:

Collect them all together at my tent:
I'll be before thee.

Erp.
I shall do't, my lord.
K. Hen. O God of battles! steel my

hearts!

soldiers'
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them!-Not to-day, O Lord,
O not to-day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interred new;
And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears,
Than from it issued forced drops of blood.
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
Towards heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built
Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests
Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do:
Though all that I can do, is nothing worth;
Since that my penitence comes after all,
Imploring pardon.

Enter Gloster.

Glo. My liege!
K. Hen. My brother Gloster's voice?-Ay;
I know thy errand, I will go with thee:-
The day, my friends, and all things, stay for me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The French camp. Enter Dauphin,
Orleans, Rambures, and others.

Orl. The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords.
Dau. Montez à cheval:-My horse! valet! lac-
quay! ha!

Orl. O brave spirit!

(1) Farced is stuffed. The tumid puffy titles with which a king's name is introduced.

But that our honours must not. What's to say?
A very little little let us do,

And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket-sonuance, and the note to mount:
For our approach shall so much dare the field,
That England shall crouch down in fear, and yield.
Enter Grandpré.

Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of

France?

Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the morning field:
Their ragged curtains" poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them passing scornfully.
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.
Their horsemen set like fixed candlesticks,
With torch-staves in their hand: and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips;
The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes;
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmals bit
Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless;
And their executors, the knavish crows,
Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.
Description cannot suit itself in words,
To démonstrate the life of such a battle
In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay
for death.

Dau. Shall we go send them dinners, and fresh suits,

Harry the king, Bedford, and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd:
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:

SCENE III.-The English camp. Enter the We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; English host; Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Salis- For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me, bury, and Westmoreland.

Glo. Where is the king?

Bed. The king himself is rode to view their battle.
West. Of fighting men they have full threescore

thousand.

Exe. There's five to one: besides, they all are fresh.

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition :2
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accurs'd, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon St. Crispin's day.
Enter Salisbury.

Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with
speed:

Sal. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
God be wi' you, princes all! I'll to my charge:
If we no more meet, till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully,-my noble lord of Bedford,-
My dear lord Gloster,-and my good lord Exeter,-And
And my kind kinsman,-warriors all, adieu!

Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck
go with thee!

Exe. Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:
And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.
[Exit Salisbury.
Bed. He is as full of valour, as of kindness:
Princely in both.

West.

O that we now had here
Enter King Henry.

But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!

K. Hen.

What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland?-No, my fair cousin :
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns' me not, if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:"
But, if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.

No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more:
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he, which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd-the feast of Crispian :
He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He, that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say-to-morrow is Saint Crispian :

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,-

(1) Grieves.

(2) i. e. This day shall advance him to the rank of a gentleman.

The French are bravely3 in their battles set,
will with all expedience charge on us.

K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so.
West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward

now!

K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from
England, cousin?

West. God's will, my liege, 'would you and I
alone,
Without more' help, might fight this battle out!
K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five
thousand men ;

Which likes me better, than to wish us one.-
You know your places: God be with you all!
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, king
Harry,

If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow:
For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf,
Thou needs must be englutted.-Besides, in mercy,
The constable desires thee thou wilt minds
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where (wretches) their poor
bodies
Must lie and fester.
K. Hen.
Who hath sent thee now?
Mont. The constable of France.

K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back;
Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows

thus?

The man, that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall, no doubt,
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day's work:
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be fam'd; for there the sun shall greet

them,

And draw their honours reeking up to heaven;
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then a bounding valour in our English;
That, being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly;-Tell the constable,

(3) Gallantly. (4) Expedition. (5) Remind.
(6) i. e. In brazen plates anciently let into tomb-

istones.

i

KING HENRY V.

We are but warriors for the working-day :
Our gayness, and our gilt, are all besmirch'd'
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There's not a piece of feather in our host,
(Good argument, I hope, we shall not ily,)
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poor soldiers tell me-yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads,
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
(As, if God please, they shall,) my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald;
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints:
Which if they have as I will leave 'em to them,
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.
Mont. I shall, king Harry. And so fare thee well;
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
K. Hen. I fear, thou'lt once more come again for
[Exit.

ransom.

Act IV. faites vous prest; car ce soldat icy est disposé tout à cette heure de couper vostre gorge.

Pist. Ouy, couper gorge, par ma foy, pesant, Unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns; Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sol. O, je vous supplie pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison: gardez ma vie, et je vous donneray deux

cents escus.

Pist. What are his words?

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

The crowns will take.

Pist. Tell him,-my fury shall abate, and I

Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur, que dit-il ?

pardonner aucun prisonnier; neantmoins, pour
Boy. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement, de
vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.
les escus que vous l'avez promis, il est content de

Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux, je vous donne mille remerciemens: et je m'estime heureux que je suis plus brave, valiant, et tres distingué seigneur tombé entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le d'Angleterre.

Pist. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks: and he esteems himself happy that he hatlı [Exeunt. fallen into the hands of (as he thinks) the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of Alarums: England.

SCENE IV.-The field of battle.
Excursions. Enter French Soldier, Pistol, and
Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur.

Fr. Sol. Je pense, que vous estes le gentilhomme de bonne qualité.

Pist. Quality, call you me ?-Construe me, art thou a gentleman? What is thy name? discuss. Fr. Sol. O seigneur Dieu!

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

Fr. Sol. O, prennez misericorde! ayez pitié de moy!

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

Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'eschapper la force de ton bras?

Pist. Brass, cur!

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

Fr. Sol. O pardonnez moy!

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

Boy. Escoutez; Comment estes-vous appellé ?
Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says, his name is-master Fer.

Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk" him, and ferret him :-discuss the same in French unto him. Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, monsieur?

Boy. Il me commande de vous dire que vous

(1) We are soldiers but coarsely dressed.
(2) Golden show, superficial gilding.
(3) Soiled. (4) Vanguard.

(5) An old cant word for a sword, so called from a famous sword-cutler of the name of Fox.

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.Follow me, cur. [Exit Pistol.

a

Boy. Suivez vous le grand capitaine.

[Exit French Soldier.

heart: but the saying is true,-The empty vessel I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty makes the greatest sound. Bardolph, and Nym, had ten times more valour than this roaring devil the old play, that every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is none the baggage of our camp: the French might have SCENE V.-Another part of the field of battle. to guard it, but boys. [Exit. Alarums. Enter Dauphin, Orleans, Bourbon, Constable, Rambures, and others.

a

Con. O diable!

Orl. O seigneur !-le jour est perdu, tout est

perdu!

Dau. Mort de ma vie ! all is confounded, all!
Reproach and everlasting shame

Sits mocking in our plumes.-O meschante for-
tune!-
Do not run away.
Con.
[A short alarum.
Why, all our ranks are broke.
Dau. O perdurable shame!-let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but

shame!

And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let us die instant: Once more back again;
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door,
Let him go hence, and, with his cap in hand,
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,"

(6) The diaphragm.
(8) Pieces of money.
(10) Lasting.

(7) Lascivious.
(9) Chastise.

(11) i. e. Who has no more gentility.

His fairest daughter is contaminate.
Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now! Alexander the pig was born?
Let us, in heaps, go offer up our lives
Unto these English, or else die with fame.

Gower: What call you the town's name where

Orl. We are enough, yet living in the field,
To smother up the English in our throngs,
If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the
throng;

Let life be short; else, shame will be too long.

[Exeunt.

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 reckoning, save the phrase is a little variations.

Gow. I think, Alexander the great was born in Macedon; his father was called-Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I think, it is in Macedon, where Alexander SCENE VI.-Another part of the field.-Ala-maps of the 'orld, I warrant, you shall find, in the is porn. I tell you, captain,-if you look in the Enter King Henry and forces; Exeter, comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, and others. that the situations, look you, is both alike. There K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice-valiant is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover

rums.

countrymen :

But all's not done, yet keep the French the field. Exe. The duke of York commends him to your majesty.

K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice, within
this hour,

I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.

Exe. In which array (brave soldier) doth he lie,
Larding the plain: and by his bloody side
(Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,)
The noble earl of Suffolk also lies.
Suffolk first died; and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
And cries aloud,-Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven :
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;
As, in this glorious and well-foughlen field,
We kept together in our chivalry!

Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up:
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says,-Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd'
A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd
Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd;
But I had not so much of man in me,
But all my mother came into mine eyes,
And gave me up to tears.

a river at Monmouth; it is called Wye, at Monmouth: but it is out of my prains, what is the name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things. Alexander, (God knows, and you know,) in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Clytus.

Gow. Our king is not like him in that: he never killed any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take tales out of my mouth, ere it is made an end and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: As Alexander is kill his friend Clytus, being in his ales and his cups; so also Harry Monmouth, in right wits and his goot judgments, is turn away the fat knight with the great pelly doublet: he was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I am forget his name.

Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he: I can tell you, there is goot men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his majesty.

Alarum. Enter King Henry, with a part of the English forces; Warwick, Gloster, Exeter, and others.

K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant.-Take a trumpet, herald;
Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill;
K. Hen.
I blame you not;
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
Or void the field; they do offend our sight:
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.-Alarum. If they'll do neither, we will come to them,
But hark! what new alarum is this same?-
And make them skirr away, as swift as stones
The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men:-Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
Give the word through.

Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have ;
[Exeunt. And not a man of them, that we shall take,
Ala-Shall taste our mercy:-Go, and tell them so.
Enter Montjoy.

SCENE VII-Another part of the field.

rums. Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offered, in the 'orld: In your conscience now, is it not?

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

Glo. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be. K. Hen. How now, what means this, herald ? know'st thou not,

Mont.

Gow. 'Tis certain, there's not a boy left alive; and the cowardly rascals, that ran from the battle, That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom? have done this slaughter: besides, they have burned Com'st thou again for ransom? and carried away all that was in the king's tent wherefore the king, most worthily, hath caused I every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis gallant king!

a

Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, captain (2) Scour.

(1) Reached:

No, great king:
come to thee for charitable license,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our princes (wo the while!)
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;

KING HENRY V.

(So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes;) and their wounded steeds
Fret fetlock deep in gore, and, with wild rage,
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety, and dispose
Of their dead bodies.

K. Hen.

I know not, if the day be ours, or no;
I tell thee truly, herald,
For yet a many of your horsemen peer,
And gallop o'er the field.

Mont.

The day is yours.

K. Hen. Praised be God, and not our strength,
for it!-

What is this castle call'd, that stands hard by?

Mont. They call it-Agincourt.

K. Hen. Then call we this-the field of Agin-
court,

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Flu. Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the plack prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

K. Hen. They did, Fluellen.

Act IV. Itation is as arrant a villain, and a Jack sauce, as ever his plack shoe trod upon Got's ground and his earth, in my conscience, la.

K. Hen. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou

meet'st the fellow.

Will. So I will, my liege, as I live.

K. Hen. Who servest thou under?
Will. Under captain Gower, my liege.

Flu. Gower is a goot captain; and is goot knowledge and literature in the wars.

R. Hen. Call him hither to me, soldier.
Will. I will, my liege.

[Exit.

K. Hen. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and stick it in thy cap: When Alençon and myself were down together, I plucked this glove friend to Alençon and an enemy to our person; if from his helm: if any man challenge this, he is a thou encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost love me.

can be desired in the hearts of his subjects: I would Flu. Your grace does me as great honours, as fain see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find himself aggriefed at this glove, that is all; but would fain see it once; an please Got of his grace, that I might see it.

I

K. Hen. Knowest thou Gower?
Flu. He is my dear friend, an please you.
K. Hen. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him

Flu. Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshman did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which, your majesty to my tent. knows, to this hour is an honourable padge of the service; and, I do believe, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.

K. Hen. I wear it for a memorable honour: For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman. Flu. All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that: Got pless it and preserve it, as long as it pleases his grace, and his majesty too!

K. Hen. Thanks, good my countryman.

Flu. I will fetch him.

K. Hen. My lord of Warwick,-and my brother
[Exit.
Gloster,

Follow Fluellen closely at the heels:
May, haply, purchase him a box o' the ear;
The glove, which I have given him for a favour,
It is the soldier's; I, by bargain, should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick:
If that the soldier strike him (as, I judge
By his blunt bearing, he will keep his word,)

Flu. By Cheshu, I am your majesty's country-Some sudden mischief may arise of it; man, I care not who know it; I will confess it to For I do know Fluellen valiant,

all the 'orld I need not to be ashamed of your And, touch'd with choler, hot as gunpowder,
majesty, praised be Got, so long as your majesty And quickly will return an injury:
is an honest man.

K. Hen. God keep me so!-Our heralds go with
him;

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts.-Call yonder fellow hither.

[Points to Williams. Exe. Mont, and others.
Exe. Soldier, you must come to the king.
K. Hen. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove
in thy cap?

Will. An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive. K. Hen. An Englishman?

Will. An't please your majesty, a rascal, that swaggered with me last night: who, if 'a live, and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box o'the ear: or, if I can see my glove in his cap (which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear, if alive,) I will strike it out soundly.

K. Hen. What think you, captain Fluellen? is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

Flu. He is a craven' and a villain else, an't please your majesty, in my conscience.

K. Hen. It may be, his enemy is a gentleman of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree. Flu. Though he be as goot a gentleman as the tevil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath: If he be perjured, see you now, his repu(2) High rank.

(1) Coward.

Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.
Follow, and see there be no harm between them.-
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.-Before King Henry's Pavilion.
Enter Gower and Williams.

Will. I warrant, it is to knight you, captain.
Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Got's will and his pleasure, captain, I pemore goot toward you, peradventure, than is in your seech you now, come apace to the king: there is knowledge to dream of.

Will. Sir, know you this glove?
Flu. Know the glove?

glove.

know, the glove is a

Will. I know this; and thus I challenge it. universal 'orld, or in France, or in England. Flu. 'Sbuld, an arrant traitor, as any's in the [Strikes him. Gow. How now, sir? you villain! Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn? treason his payment into plows, I warrant you. Flu. Stand away, captain Gower; I will give Will. I am no traitor.

Flu. That's a lie in thy throat.-I charge you in
of the duke Alençon's.
his majesty's name, apprehend him; he's a friend

Enter Warwick and Gloster.
War. How now,

how now! what's the matter?
(3) For saucy Jack.