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].