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
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].
