ACT III.
Enter Chorus.
Chor.
Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose, that you have seen
The well-appointed6 note
king at Hampton pier
Embark his royalty7 note
; and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young Phœbus fanning8 note
:
-- 335 --
Play with your fancies; and in them behold,
Upon the hempen tackle, ship-boys climbing:
Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give
To sounds confus'd9 note
: behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think,
You stand upon the rivage1 note
, and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy2 note
;
And leave your England, as dead midnight, still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
Either past, or not arriv'd to, pith and puissance:
For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd
-- 336 --
With one appearing hair, that will not follow
These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
Work, work, your thoughts, and therein see a siege:
Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose, the ambassador from the French comes back;
Tells Harry—that the king doth offer him
Katharine his daughter; and with her, to dowry,
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
With linstock3 note
now the devilish cannon touches,
[Alarum; and Chambers4 note go off.
And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke5 note
out our performance with your mind.
[Exit.
-- 337 --
SCENE I.
The Same. Before Harfleur.
Alarums. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford,
Gloster, and Soldiers, with Scaling Ladders.
K. Hen.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall6 note
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 tiger7 note
;
-- 338 --
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood8 note,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspéct;
Let it pry through the portage of the head9 note
,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock
O'erhand and jutty1 note
his confounded base2 note
,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean3 note
.
-- 339 --
Now set the teeth4 note
, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit5 note
To his full height!—On, on, you noble English6 note,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof7 note
!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument8 note,
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest,
That those, whom you call'd 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;
-- 340 --
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 slips9 note,
Straining upon the start1 note. 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.
Forces pass over; then enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.
Bard.
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the
breach!
Nym.
'Pray thee, corporal2 note
, stay: the knocks
are too hot; and for mine own part, I have not a
case of lives3 note
: the humour of it is too hot, that is
the very plain-song of it.
-- 341 --
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 me4 note,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.
Boy.
As duly, but not as truly, as bird doth sing
on bough5 note
.
Enter Fluellen6 note.
Flu.
Got's plood!—Up to the preaches7 note, you
rascals! will you not up to the preaches?
[Driving them forward.
-- 342 --
Pist.
Be merciful, great duke8 note
, to men of mould9 note
!
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 humours1 note.
[Exeunt Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph, followed by Fluellen.
-- 343 --
Boy.
As young as I am, I have observed these
three swashers. I am boy to them all three: but
all they three2 note
, 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
white-livered, 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 men3 note; 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 head but his
own; and that was against a post when he was
drunk. They will steal any thing, and call it,—
purchase4 note. Bardolph stole a lute-case; bore it
twelve leagues, and sold it for three halfpence.
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 coals5 note
.
-- 344 --
They would have me 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.
Gow.
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 countermines5 note;
by Cheshu, I think, 'a will plow up all6 note, if
there is not better directions.
Gow.
The duke of Gloster, to whom the order
of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an
Irishman; a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.
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 will verify as much in his peard: he has no more
directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look
you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.
-- 345 --
Enter Macmorris and Jamy, at a distance.
Gow.
Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain,
captain Jamy, with him.
Flu.
Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman,
that is certain; and of great expedition,
and knowledge, in the ancient wars, upon my particular
knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he
will maintain his argument as well as any military
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?
Mac.
By Chrish la, tish ill done: the work ish
give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By 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 you7 note with gud leve, as I
may pick occasion; that sall I, marry.
-- 346 --
Mac.
It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save
me, the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars,
and the king, and the dukes; it is no time to discourse.
The town is beseeched, and the trumpet
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.
Jamy.
By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take
themselves to slumber, aile do gude service, or aile
ligge i' the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and
aile pay it as valorously as I may, that sal I surely
do, that is the breff and the long: Mary, I wad
full fain heard some question 'tween you 'tway.
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, I think, look you,
under your correction, there is not many of your
nation—
Mac.
Of my nation? What ish my nation? ish
a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal?
What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?
Flu.
Look you, if you take the matter otherwise
than is meant, captain Macmorris, peradventure, I
shall think you do not use me with that affability as
in discretion you ought to use me, look you; being
as goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of
wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other
particularities.
Mac.
I do not know you so good a man as myself:
so Crish save me, I will cut off your head.
Gow.
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each
other.
Jamy.
Au! that's a foul fault.
[A Parley sounded.
-- 347 --
Gow.
The town sounds a parley.
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, when there is more
better opportunity to be required, look you, I will
be so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of
war; and there is an end8 note.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The same. Before the Gates of Harfleur.
The Governour and some Citizens on the Walls;
the English Forces below. Enter King Henry
and his Train.
K. Hen.
How yet resolves the governour of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or, like to men proud of destruction,
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier9 note,
(A name, that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,)
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur,
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up1 note
;
-- 348 --
And the flesh'd soldier,—rough and hard of heart,—
In liberty of bloody hand, shall range
With conscience wide as hell; mowing like grass
Your fresh-fair virgins, and your flowering infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,—
Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,—
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation2 note
?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness,
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil,
As send precepts to the Leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town, and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds3 note
Of deadly murder4 note
, spoil, and villainy.
-- 349 --
If not, why, in a moment, look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters5 note
;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes;
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
Gov.
Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated6 note,
Returns us—that his powers are not yet ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king,
We yield our town, and lives, to thy soft mercy:
Enter our gates; dispose of us, and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.
K. Hen.
Open your gates.—Come, uncle Exeter,
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,—
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers,—we'll retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest7 note
.
[Flourish. The King, &c. enter the Town.
-- 350 --
8 note
SCENE IV.
Roüen. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Katharine and Alice.
Kath.
Alice, tu as esté9 note
en Angleterre, et tu
parles bien le language.
-- 351 --
Alice.
Un peu madame.
Kath.
Je te prie, m'enseigneuz; il faut que
j'apprenne à parler. Comment appellez vous la
main, en Anglois?
Alice.
La main? elle est appellée, de hand.
Kath.
De hand. Et les doigts?
Alice.
Les doigts? may foy1 note, je oublie les
doigts; mais je me souviendray. Les doigts? je
pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres; ouy, de fingres.
Kath.
La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres.
Je pense, que je suis le bon escolier. J'ay gagné
deux mots d'Anglois vistement. Comment appellez
vous les ongles?
Alice.
Les ongles? les appellons, de nails.
-- 352 --
Kath.
De nails. Escoutez; dites moy, si je
parle bien: de hand, de fingres, de nails.
Alice.
C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon
Anglois.
Kath.
Dites moy en Anglois, le bras.
Alice.
De arm, madame.
Kath.
Et le coude.
Alice.
De elbow.
Kath.
De elbow. Je m'en faitz la repetition
de tous les mots, que vous m'avez appris dès a present.
Alice.
Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je
pense.
Kath.
Excusez moy, Alice; escoutez: De hand,
de fingre, de nails, de arm, de bilbow.
Alice.
De elbow, madame.
Kath.
O Seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie; De
elbow. Comment appellez vous le col?
Alice.
De neck, madame.
Kath.
De neck: Et le menton?
Alice.
De chin.
Kath.
De sin. Le col, de neck: le menton, de
sin.
Alice.
Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur; en verité,
vous prononces les mots aussi droict que les natifs
d'Angleterre.
Kath.
Je ne doute point d'apprendre par la
grace de Dieu; et en peu de temps.
Alice.
N'avez vous pas deja oublié ce que je
vous ay enseignée?
Kath.
Non, je reciteray à vous promptement.
De hand, de fingre, de mails,—
Alice.
De nails, madame.
Kath.
De nails, de arme, de ilbow.
Alice.
Sauf vostre honneur, de elbow.
Kath.
Ainsi dis je; de elbow, de neck, et de
sin: Comment appellez vous le pieds et la robe?
-- 353 --
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 leçon 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 Somme.
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 father's luxury2 note
,
Our scions, put in wild and savage3 note stock,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
And overlook their grafters?
-- 354 --
Bour.
Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman 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 Albion4 note
.
Con.
Dieu de battailes! where have they this mettle?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despite* note, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
A drench for sur-rein'd jades5 note
, their barley broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping icicles
Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people6 note
-- 355 --
Sweat drops of gallant youth7 note in our rich fields;
Poor—we may call them8 note, 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 high9 note
, and swift corantos;
-- 356 --
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.
Fr. King.
Where is Mountjóy, 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 France1 note
;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
-- 357 --
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights2 note
,
For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons3 note
painted in the blood of Harfleur:
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow4 note
-- 358 --
Upon the vallies; whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon5 note
:
Go down upon him,—you have power enough,—
And in a captive chariot, into Roüen
Bring him our prisoner.
Con.
This becomes the great.
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 ransom6 note
.
Fr. King.
Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjóy;
And let him say to England, that we send
-- 359 --
To know what willing ransom he will give.—
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Roüen7 note.
Dau.
Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
Fr. King.
Be patient, for you shall remain with us.—
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
life, and my livings, and my uttermost powers: he
is not, (God be praised, and plessed!) any hurt in
the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly8 note,
-- 360 --
with excellent discipline. There is an ensign9 note there
at the pridge,—I think, in my very conscience, he
is as valiant as Mark Antony; and he is a man of
no estimation in the 'orld: but I did see him do
gallant service.
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 valour1 note
, hath,—by cruel fate,
And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind,
That stands upon the rolling restless stone2 note
,—
-- 361 --
Flu.
By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune
is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to
signify to you that fortune is plind3 note
: And she is
-- 362 --
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 truth4 note,
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 on him;
For he hath stol'n a pix5 note
, and hanged must 'a be.
-- 363 --
A damned death!
Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free,
And let not hemp his wine-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
-- 364 --
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 therefore6 note
.
Flu.
Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice
at: for if, look you, he were my brother, I
would desire the duke to use his goot pleasure, and
put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be
used.
Pist.
Die and be damn'd; and figo for thy friendship7 note
!
Flu.
It is well.
Pist.
The fig of Spain8 note
!
[Exit Pistol.
-- 365 --
Flu.
Very good9 note
.
Gow.
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal;
I remember him now; a bawd; a cutpurse.
Flu.
I'll assure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at
-- 366 --
the pridge, as you shall see in a summer's day: But
it is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is
well, I warrant you, when time is serve.
Gow.
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'
names: and they will learn you by rote, where services
were done;—at such and such a sconce1 note
, at
such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off
bravely, who was shot, who disgraced, what terms
the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in
the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned
oaths: And what a beard of the general's
cut2 note
, and a horrid suit of the camp3 note
, will do among
-- 367 --
foaming bottles, and ale-washed wits, is wonderful
to be thought on! but you must learn to know
such slanders of the age4 note
, or else you may be marvellous
mistook.
Flu.
I tell you what, captain Gower;—I do
perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly
-- 368 --
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 pridge5 note
.
Enter King Henry, Gloster, and Soldiers6 note
.
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 gallant
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,
-- 369 --
one Bardolph, if your majesty know the man: his
face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs7 note
, 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 executed8 note
, and his fire's
out9 note.
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.
-- 370 --
Tucket sounds. Enter Montjoy1 note.
Mont.
You know me by my habit2 note.
K. Hen.
Well then, I know thee; What shall I know of thee?
Mont.
My master's mind.
K. Hen.
Unfold it.
Mont.
Thus says my king:—Say thou to Harry
of England, Though we seemed dead, we did but
sleep3 note
; Advantage is a better soldier, than rashness.
Tell him, we could have rebuked him at Harfleur;
but that we thought not good to bruise an injury,
till it were full ripe:—now we speak upon our cue4 note,
and our voice is imperial: England shall repent his
folly, see his weakness, and admire our sufferance.
Bid him, therefore, consider of his ransom; which
must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects
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 disgrace,
his own person, kneeling at our feet, but a
weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add—
defiance: and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed
his followers, whose condemnation is pronounced.
-- 371 --
So far my king and master; so much
my office5 note.
K. Hen.
What is thy name? I know thy quality.
Mont.
Montjoy.
K. Hen.
Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
And tell thy king,—I do not seek him now;
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment6 note
: for, to say the sooth,
(Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,)
My people are with sickness much enfeebled:
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have,
Almost no better than so many French;
Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought, upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchmen.—Yet, forgive me, God,
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;
-- 372 --
My ransom, is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army, but a weak and sickly guard;
Yet, God before7 note
, tell him we will come on,
Through 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
Discolour8 note
: 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.
Mont.
I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.
[Exit Montjoy.
Glo.
I hope, they will not come upon us now.
-- 373 --
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.
9 note
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 constable,
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 hairs1 note; le cheval volant, the
Pegasus, qui a les narines de feu! When I bestride
him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the
-- 374 --
earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of
his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
Orl.
He's of the colour of the nutmeg.
Dau.
And of the heat of the ginger. It is a
beast for Perseus: he is pure air and fire; and the
dull elements of earth and water never appear in
him2 note
, but only in patient stillness, while his rider
mounts him: he is, indeed, a horse; and all other
jades you may call—beasts3 note
.
-- 375 --
Con.
Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and
excellent horse.
Dau.
It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is
like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance
enforces homage.
Orl.
No more, cousin.
Dau.
Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot,
from the rising of the lark to the lodging of the
lamb, vary deserved praise on my palfrey: it is a
theme as fluent as the sea; turn the sands into
-- 376 --
eloquent tongues, and my horse is argument for
them all: 'tis a subject for a sovereign to reason on,
and for a sovereign's sovereign to ride on; and for
the world (familiar to us, and unknown,) to lay
apart their particular functions, and wonder at him.
I once writ a sonnet in his praise, and began thus:
Wonder of Nature4 note
,—
Orl.
I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's
mistress.
Dau.
Then did they imitate that which I composed
to my courser; for my horse is my mistress.
Orl.
Your mistress bears well.
Dau.
Me well; which is the prescript praise and
perfection of a good and particular mistress.
Con.
Ma foy! the other day, methought, your
mistress shrewdly shook your back.
Dau.
So, perhaps, did yours.
Con.
Mine was not bridled.
Dau.
O! then, belike, she was old and gentle;
and you rode, like a Kerne of Ireland, your French
hose off, and in your strait trossers5 note
.
-- 377 --
Con.
You have good judgment in horsemanship.
Dau.
Be warned by me then: they that ride
-- 378 --
so, and ride not warily, fall into foul bogs; I had
rather have my horse to my mistress.
Con.
I had as lief have my mistress a jade.
Dau.
I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears
her own hair.
Con.
I could make as true a boast as that, if I
had a sow to my mistress.
Dau.
Le chien est retournè à son propre vomissement,
et la truie lavée au bourbier: thou makest
use of any thing.
Con.
Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress;
or any such proverb, so little kin to the purpose.
Ram.
My lord constable, the armour, that I saw
in your tent to-night, are those stars6 note
, or suns,
upon it?
Con.
Stars, my lord.
Dau.
Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.
Con.
And yet my sky shall not want.
Dau.
That may be, for you bear a many superfluously;
and, 'twere more honour, some were away.
Con.
Even as your horse bears your praises: who
would trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted.
Dau.
'Would, I were able to load him with his
desert! Will it never be day? I will trot to-morrow
-- 379 --
a mile, and my way shall be paved with English
faces.
Con.
I will not say so, for fear I should be faced
out of my way: But I would it were morning, for
I would fain be about the ears of the English.
Ram.
Who will go to hazard with me for twenty
English prisoners7 note
?
Con.
You must first go yourself to hazard, ere
you have them.
Dau.
'Tis midnight, I'll go arm myself.
[Exit.
Orl.
The Dauphin longs for morning.
Ram.
He longs to eat the English.
Con.
I think, he will eat all he kills.
Orl.
By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant
prince.
Con.
Swear by her foot, that she may tread out
the oath.
Orl.
He is, simply, the most active gentleman of
France.
Con.
Doing is activity; and he will still be doing.
Orl.
He never did harm, that I heard of.
Con.
Nor will do none to-morrow; he will keep
that good name still.
Orl.
I know him to be valiant.
Con.
I was told that, by one that knows him
better than you.
Orl.
What's he?
Con.
Marry, he told me so himself; and he said,
he cared not who knew it.
-- 380 --
Orl.
He needs not, it is no hidden virtue in
him.
Con.
By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body
saw it, but his lackey8 note: 'tis a hooded valour; and,
when it appears, it will bate9 note
.
Orl.
Ill will never said well.
Con.
I will cap that proverb1 note with—There is
flattery in friendship.
Orl.
And I will take up that with—Give the
devil his due.
Con.
Well placed: there stands your friend for
the devil: have at the very eye of that proverb,
with—A pox of the devil2 note
.
-- 381 --
Orl.
You are the better at proverbs, by how
much—A fool's bolt is soon shot.
Con.
You have shot over.
Orl.
'Tis not the first time your were overshot.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My lord high constable, the English lie
within fifteen hundred paces of your tent.
Con.
Who hath measured the ground?
Mess.
The lord Grandpré.
Con.
A valiant and most expert gentleman.—
Would it were day3 note
!—Alas, poor Harry of England!
he longs not for the dawning, as we do.
Orl.
What a wretched and peevish4 note fellow is
this king of England, to mope with his fat-brained
followers so far out of his knowledge!
Con.
If the English had any apprehension, they
would run away5 note.
Orl.
That they lack; for if their heads had any
intellectual armour, they could never wear such
heavy head-pieces.
Ram.
That Island of England breeds very valiant
creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.
-- 382 --
Orl.
Foolish curs! that run winking into the
mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads
crushed like rotten apples: You may as well say,—
that's a valiant flea, that dare eat his breakfast on
the lip of a lion.
Con.
Just, just; and the men do sympathize
with the mastiffs, in robustious and rough coming on,
leaving their wits with their wives: and then give
them great meals of beef5 note
, and iron and steel, they
will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.
Orl.
Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of
beef.
Con.
Then we shall find to-morrow—they have
only stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is
it time to arm: Come, shall we about it?
Orl.
It is now two o'clock: but, let me see,—by ten,
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.
[Exeunt.
-- 383 --
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
