K. Henry.

Now now, what's the matter?

Flu.

My Liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look your Grace, has struck the glove, which your Majesty is take out of the helmet of Alanson.

Wil.

My Liege, this was my glove, here is the fellow of it; and he, that I gave it to in change, promis'd to wear it in his cap; I promis'd to strike him, if he did; I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my word.

Flu.

Your Majesty hear now, saving your Majesty's manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggerly, lowsie knave it is; I hope, your Majesty is pear me testimonies, and witnesses, and avouchments, that this is the glove of Alanson that your Majesty is give me, in your conscience now.

K. Henry.

Give me thy glove, soldier; look, here is the fellow of it: 'twas me, indeed, thou promised'st to strike, and thou hast given me most bitter terms.

Flu.

An please your Majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the world.

K. Henry.

How canst thou make me satisfaction?

Wil.

All Offences, my lord, come from the heart; never came any from mine, that might offend your Majesty.

K. Henry.

It was our self thou didst abuse.

Wil.

Your Majesty came not like your self; you appear'd to me, but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what your Highness

suffer'd under that shape, I beseech you, take it for your fault and not mine; for had you been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highness, pardon me.

K. Henry.
Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;
And wear it for an honour in thy cap,
Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns:
And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

Flu.

By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pelly; hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you to serve God, and keep you out of prawls and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.

Wil.

I will none of your mony.

Flu.

It is with a good will; I can tell you, it will serve you to mend your shoes; come, wherefore should you be so pashful; your shoes is not so good; 'tis a good silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

K. Henry.
Now, Herald, are the dead number'd?

Her.
Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

K. Henry.
What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

Exe.
Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King;
John Duke of Bourbon, and lord Bouchiquald:
Of other Lords, and Barons, Knights, and 'Squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

K. Henry.
This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
Slain in the field; of Princes in this number,
And Nobles bearing banners, there lye dead
One hundred twenty six; added to these,
Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights;
So that in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries:
The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, 'Squires,

And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles, that lye dead,
Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;
Jaques of Chatilion, admiral of France;
The master of the cross-bows, lord Rambures;
Great master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dauphin;
John Duke of Alanson, Anthony Duke of Brabant
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy,
And Edward Duke of Bar: Of lusty Earls,
Grandpree and Roussie, Faulconbridge and Foyes,
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!
Where is the number of our English dead?

Exe.
Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketley, Davy Gam Esquire;
None else of name; and of all other men,
But five and twenty.

K. Henry.
O God, thy arm was here!
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and ev'n play of battel,
Was ever known so great, and little loss,
On one part, and on th' other? take it, God,
For it is only thine.

Exe.
'Tis wonderful!

K. Henry.
Come, go we in procession to the village:
And be it death proclaimed through our host,
To boast of this, or take that praise from God,
Which is his only.

Flu.

Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how many is kill'd?

K. Henry.
Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment,
That God fought for us.

Flu.
Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

K. Henry.
Do we all holy rites;
Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te deum:
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay;
And then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men. [Exeunt.

Enter Chorus.
Vouchsafe, to those that have not read the story,
That I may prompt them; and to such as have,
I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things;
Which cannot in their huge and proper life
Be here presented. Now we bear the King
Tow'rd Calais: grant him there; and there being seen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
Athwart the sea: behold, the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys,
Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea;
Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the King,
Seems to prepare his way; so let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Black-heath:
Where that his lords desire him to have born
His bruised helmet, and his bended sword,
Before him through the city; he forbids it;
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride:
Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent,
Quite from himself to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens:
The Mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
Like to the senators of antique Rome,
With the Plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring Cæsar in.
As by a low, but loving likelihood,
Were now the General of our gracious Empress
(As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
Bringing Rebellion broached on his sword;
How many would the peaceful city quit,
To welcome him? much more (and much more cause)
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;
(As yet the lamentation of the French
Invites the King of England's Stay at home:
The Emperor's coming in behalf of France,

To order peace between them;) and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
Till Harry's back return again to France:
There must we bring him; and my self have play'd
The int'rim, by remembring you, 'tis past.
Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance
After your thoughts, strait back again to France.

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