SCENE II.
Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.
Bard.
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the
breach!
Nym.
'Pray thee, 8 notecorporal, stay; the knocks are
too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not 9 notea case
-- 70 --
of lives: 9Q0782 the humour of it is too hot, that is the
very plain-song of it.
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 ale-house in London! I
would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.
Pist.
And I:
1 noteIf wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hye.
Boy.
2 noteAs duly, but not as truly, as bird doth sing
on bough.
Enter Fluellen. 9Q0783
Flu.
'Splood!—Up to the preaches3 note, you rascals!
will you not up to the preaches?
Pist.
Be merciful, great duke, 4 noteto men of mould!
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage! use lenity, sweet chuck!
Nym.
These be good humours!—your honour wins
bad humours.
[Exeunt.
-- 71 --
Boy.
As young as I am, I have observ'd these three
swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they
three, 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-liver'd, and
red-fac'd; 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 5 notebest men; and therefore
he scorns to say his prayers, left '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—
purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case; bore it twelve
leagues, and sold it for three half-pence. Nym, and
Bardolph, are sworn brothers in filching; and in Calais
they stole a fire-shovel: I knew, by that piece of service,
6 note
the men would carry coals. 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.
-- 72 --
Re-enter Fluellen, Gower following.
Gower.
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
are 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)
7 noteis digt himself four yards under the countermines:
by Cheshu, I think, 'a 8 notewill plow up all, if there is
not better directions.
Gower.
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?
Gower.
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.
Enter Macmorris, and captain Jamy.
Gower.
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.
-- 73 --
Jamy.
I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen.
Flu.
God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy.
Gower.
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 fall be very gud, gud feith, gud captains
bath: and 9 noteI sall quit you with gud leve, as I may
pick occasion; that sall I, marry.
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 beseech'd, 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 gud 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
-- 74 --
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 Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
Gower.
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each
other.
Jamy.
Au! that's a foul fault.
[A parley sounded.
Gower.
The town sounds a parley.
Flu.
Captain Macmorris, when there is more better
opportunity to be requir'd, look you, I will be so bold
as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war; and
there's an end1 note.
SCENE III.
Before the gates of Harfleur.
Enter King Henry and his train.
K. Henry.
How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
-- 75 --
Or, like to men proud of destruction,
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
(A name, that, in my thoughts, becomes me best)
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-atchieved Harfleur,
'Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up2 note
; 9Q0784
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 3 note
fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
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;
4 note
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'er-blows the filthy and contagious clouds
-- 76 --
Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
If not, why, in a moment, look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
5 note
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
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?
Enter Governor, upon the walls.
Gov.
Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated,
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. Henry.
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 addrest6 note
.
[Flourish, and enter the town.
-- 77 --
7 note
SCENE IV.
The French camp.
Enter Katharine, and an old gentlewoman.
8 note
Kath.
Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, & tu parles
bien le language.
-- 78 --
Alice.
Un peu, madame.
Kath.
Je te prie, m'enseignez; 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 foy, je oublie les doigts; mais je
me souviendray. Les doigts? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de
fingres; ouy, de fingers; oui de fingers.
Kath.
La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je
pense, que je suis le bon escolier. J'ay gagnée deux mots
d'Anglois vistement. Comment appellez vous les ongles?
Alice.
Les ongles? les appellons, de nails.
-- 79 --
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 prononcez
les mots aussi droict que les natifs d' Angleterre.
Kath.
Je ne doute point d'apprendre par la grace de
Dieu; & 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 mails8 note.
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 les pieds, & la robe?
Alice.
De foot, madame; & de con. 9Q0785
Kath.
De foot, & de con? O Seigneur Dieu! ces
-- 80 --
sont mots de son mauvais, corruptible, grosse, et impudique, &
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, & de con, neant-moins. Je reciterai
une autre fois ma leçon ensemble: De hand, de9 note 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.
Presence-chamber in the French court.
Enter the king of France, the Dauphin, duke of Bourbon, the Constable of France, and others.
Fr. King.
'Tis certain, he hath pass'd the river Some.
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 1 noteour father's luxury,—
Our syens, put in wild 2 noteand savage stock,
Sprout up so suddenly into the clouds,
And over-grow their grafters? 9Q0786
Bour.
Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!
Mort de ma vie! if thus they march along
Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm
-- 81 --
4 noteIn that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
Con.
Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despight, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? 5 note
Can sodden water,
A drench for sur-reyn'd jades, their barley broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? Oh, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping icicles
Upon the houses' thatch 9Q0787, whiles a more frosty people
Sweat drops of gallant youth 9Q0788 in our rich fields;
Poor—we may call them, 9Q0789 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 6 note
lavoltas high, and swift corantos;
-- 82 --
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty run-aways.
Fr. King.
Where is Montjoy, 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:
7 note
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights,
For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
8 note
With pennons painted in the blood of Harsleur:
-- 83 --
Rush on his host, as doth the 9 notemelted snow
Upon the vallies; whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon1 note
:
Go down upon him,—you have power enough,—
And in a captive chariot, into Roan
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 atchievement, offer us his ransom.
-- 84 --
Fr. King.
Therefore, lord constable, haste on Mont-joy;
And let him say to England, that we send
To know what willing ransom he will give.—
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Roan.
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.
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,
(Got be praised and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld;
but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent
discipline. There is an ancient lieutenant there at the
pridge,—I think, in my very conscience, he is as valiant
a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no
estimation in the 'orld; but I did see him do gallant
services.
Gow.
What do you call him?
Flu.
He is call'd—ancient Pistol.
Gow.
I know him not.
-- 85 --
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 stone,—
Flu.
By your patience, ancient Pistol. 2 note
Fortune is
painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to signify
-- 86 --
to you, that fortune is plind: And she is painted
also with a wheel; to signify to you, which is
the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant,
and mutabilities, and variations; and her foot, look
you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and
rolls, and rolls;—In good truth, the poet makes a
most excellent description of fortune: fortune, look
you, is an excellent moral.
Pist.
Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
3 note
For he hath stol'n a pix, and hanged must 'a be.
Damn'd death!
-- 87 --
Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free,
And let not hemp his wind-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
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.
4 note
Why then rejoice therefore.
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 friendship5 note
!
Flu.
It is well.
Pist.
6 note
The fig of Spain!
[Exit Pistol.
-- 88 --
Flu.
Very good7 note
.
Gow.
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I
remember him now; a bawd, a cut-purse.
Flu.
I'll assure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at 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 the great commanders'
names: and they will learn you by rote, where services
were done;—at such and such 8 notea sconce, at such
-- 89 --
a breach, at such a convoy; who came off bravely,
who was shot, who disgrac'd, 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 cut, and a horrid suit
of the camp9 note, will do among foaming bottles, and alewash'd
wits, is wonderful to be thought on! But you
must learn to know 1 notesuch slanders of the age, or else
you may be marvellously mistook.
Flu.
I tell you what, captain Gower;—I do perceive,
he is not the man that he would gladly make shew to
the 'orld he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell
him my mind. Hear you, the king is coming; and
2 note
I must speak with him from the pridge.
-- 90 --
Drum and colours. Enter the king, Gloster, and soldiers. 9Q0792
Flu.
God pless you majesty!
K. Henry.
How now, Fluellen? cam'st thou from
the bridge?
Flu.
Ay, so please your majesty. The duke of
Exeter has very gallantly maintain'd 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. Henry.
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 9Q0793 for robbing a church, one Bardolph,
if your majesty know the man: his face is all
bubukles, and whelks, and knobs3 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 executed, and 4 notehis fire's out.
-- 91 --
K. Henry.
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 gentlest gamester is the soonest winner.
Tucket sounds. 5 noteEnter Montjoy.
Mont.
You know me 6 noteby my habit.
K. Henry.
Well then, I know thee; What shall I
know of thee?
Mont.
My master's mind.
K. Henry.
Unfold it.
Mont.
Thus says my king:—Say thou to Harry of
England, Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep;
Advantage is a better soldier, than rashness. Tell him,
we could have rebuk'd him at Harfleur; but that we
thought not good to bruise an injury, 'till it were full
ripe:—now we speak 7 noteupon our cue, 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
-- 92 --
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 betray'd his followers, whose condemnation is
pronounced. So far my king and master; 8 noteso much
my office.
K. Henry.
What is thy name? I know thy quality.
Mont.
Montjoy.
K. Henry.
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 impeachment* 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;
My ransom, is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army, but a weak and sickly guard;
Yet, 9 note
God before, tell him we will come on,
-- 93 --
Though France himself, and such another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy1 note
.
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
Discolour: 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.
Glo.
I hope, they will not come upon us now.
K. Henry.
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.
-- 94 --
3 noteSCENE VII.
The French camp near Agincourt.
Enter the constable of France, the lord Rambures, the Duke of Orleans, Dauphin, with 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.
Ça, ha! 4 noteHe bounds from the earth, as if his entrails
were hairs; 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 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 fire5 note
; and the
-- 95 --
dull elements of earth and water never appear in him,
but only in patient stillness, while his rider mounts
him: he is, indeed, a horse; 6 note
and all other jades you
may call—beasts.
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 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, 7 note
Wonder of nature, &lblank;
-- 96 --
Orl.
I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
Dau.
Then did they imitate that which I compos'd
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, 8 note
like a kerne of Ireland, your French hose
off, and in your strait trossers. 9Q0794
-- 97 --
Con.
You have good judgment in horsemanship.
Dau.
Be warn'd by me then: they that ride 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,
& la truie lavée au bourbier: thou mak'st 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 stars, 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 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!
-- 98 --
Will it never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile,
and my way shall be paved with English faces.
Con.
I will not say so, for fear I should be fac'd 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 prisoners9 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
car'd not who knew it.
Orl.
He needs not, it is no hidden virtue in him.
Con.
By my faith, Sir, but it is; never any body
-- 99 --
aw it, but 1 notehis lacquey: 2 note'tis a hooded valour; and,
when it appears, it will bate.
Orl.
Ill will never said well.
Con.
3 noteI will cap that proverb with—There is flattery
in friendship.
Orl.
And I will take up that with—Give the devil
his due.
Con.
Well plac'd; there stands your friend for the
devil: have at the very eye of that proverb, 4 notewith
—A pox of the devil.
Or.
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 you were over-shot.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My lord high constable, the English lie within
fifteen hundred paces of your tent.
Con.
Who hath measur'd the ground?
Mess.
The lord Grandpré.
Con.
A valiant and most expert gentleman.—
5 note
'Would it were day!—Alas, poor Harry of England!
he longs not for the dawning, as we do.
-- 100 --
Orl.
What a wretched and peevish* note
fellow is this
king of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers
so far out of his knowledge!
Con.
If the English had any apprehension, they
would run away.
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.
Orl.
Foolish curs! that run winking into the mouth
of a Russian bear, and have their heads crush'd 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 beef6 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 it is time
to arm; Come, shall we about it?
Orl.
'Tis two o'clock: but, let me see,—by ten,
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.
-- 101 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
