K. Hen.

How 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 Alençon.

Will.

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

Flu.

Your majesty hear now, saving your majesty's manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lousy knave it is: I hope your majesty is pear me testimony and witness, and will avouchment ^note, that this is the glove of Alençon, that your majesty is give me; in your conscience, now?

K. Hen.

Give me thy ^note glove, soldier: look, here is the fellow of it ^note.

Flu.

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

K. Hen.

How canst thou make me satisfaction?

Will.

All offences, my lord ^note, come from the heart: never came any from mine that might offend your majesty.

K. Hen.

It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will.

Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to me but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what your highness suffered under that shape, I beseech you take it for your own ^note fault and not mine: for had you been as I took you for, I made ^note no offence; therefore, I beseech your highness, pardon me.

K. Hen.
Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
And ^note 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 belly ^note. Hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.

Will.

I will none of your money.

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. Hen.
Now, herald, are the dead number'd ^note? ^note

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

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

Exe.
Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;

John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt ^note:
Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

K. Hen.
This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lie slain ^note: 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 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 of Chatillon ^note, admiral of France;
The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;
Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin,
John Duke of Alençon, Anthony ^note Duke of Brabant,
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy,
And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpré and Roussi, Fauconberg ^note and Foix ^note,
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont ^note and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!
Where is the number of our English dead? [Herald ^note shews him another paper.
Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire:
None else of name; and of all other men
But five ^note and twenty. O God ^note, 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? ^note Take it, God,
For it is none but ^note thine!

Exe.
'Tis wonderful!

K. Hen.
Come, go we ^note 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 ^note please your majesty, to tell how many is killed?

K. Hen.
Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,
That God fought for us.

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

K. Hen.
Do we all holy rites;
Let there be sung ‘Non nobis’ and ‘Te Deum;’
The dead with charity enclosed ^note in clay:
And ^note then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arrived more happy ^note men. [Exeunt.

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