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.
^{3 note}Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King;
John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouchiqualt:
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 lie 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^{4 note} mercenaries:
The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, 'Squires,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles, that lie dead,
Charles Delabreth, high constable of France:
Jaques 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 even play of battle,
Was ever known so great, and little loss,
On one part, and on th' other?—Take it, God,
For it is only thine.

Ex.
'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;^{5 note}
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.

Previous section