Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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ACT III.
[Prologue]
Enter Chorus.
Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
-- 37 --
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose, that you have seen
The well-appointed king at Hampton peer note14Q0743
Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young Phœbus fanning note.
Play with your fancies; and in them behold,
Upon the hempen tackle, ship-boys climbing:
Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give
To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden sails,
Born with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think,
You stand upon the rivage, and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy;
And leave your England, as dead midnight, still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
Either past, or not arriv'd to, pith and puissance:
For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing hair, that will not follow
These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
Work, work, your thoughts, and therein see a siege;
Behold the ordinance on their carriages,
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose, the embassador from the French comes back;
Tells Harry—that the king doth offer him
Catharine, his daughter; and with her, to dowry,
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
-- 38 --
[Alarum; and Chambers go off.
And down goes all before him. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind.
[Exit.
SCENE I.
The same. Before Harfleur.
Other Alarums, Firings, &c. Enter King Henry,
and Forces, with Scaling-ladders.
Kin.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness, and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tyger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up note the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspéct;
Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock
O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height!—On, on, you note noblest note English,
Whose blood is set from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn 'till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest,
That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you!
Be copy now to men of note grosser blood,
And teach them how to war!—And you, good yeomen,
-- 39 --
Whose limbs were made in England, shew us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear,
That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining note upon the start. The game's a foot; note
Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,
Cry—God for Harry! England! and saint George!
[Exeunt, sounding a Charge.
SCENE II.
The same.
Enter other Forces, and pass over; then, Nym,
Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.
Bar.
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
Nym.
Pray thee, lieutenant, note stay;14Q0744 the knocks are
too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of
lives: the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain-song
of it.
Pis.
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.
Pis.
And I:
If wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.
Boy.
As duly, (but not as truly) as bird doth sing
on bough.
-- 40 --
Enter Fluellen.
Flu.
Got's plud!—Up to the preaches you rascals! note
will you not up to the preaches?
[driving them forward with his Partizan.
Pis.
Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould!
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage! use lenity, sweet chuck!14Q0745
Nym.
These be good humours!—your honour wins
bad humours.
[Exeunt Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph, driven in by Fluellen.
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, eould note 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 best men; and therefore he scorns to say
his prayers, lest 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 note 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, 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
-- 41 --
pocket, to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing
up of wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some
better service: their villany goes against my weak stomach,
and therefore I must cast it up.
[Exit.
Re-enter Fluellen; to him Gower.
Gow.
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
goot to come to the mines: For, look you, the mines
is not note 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) is digt
himself four yards note under the countermines: by Cheshu,
I think a' will plow up all, if there is not petter directions.
Gow.
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 Mac-morris, is it not?
Gow.
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 Mac-morris, and Jamy, at a Distance.
Gow.
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
-- 42 --
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.
Jam.
I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen.
Flu.
God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy note.
Gow.
How now, captain Mac-morris? 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 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 Mac-morris, I peseech you now, will
you vouchsafe 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.
Jam.
It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains
bath: and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick
occasion; that sall I, mary.
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 call 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,
-- 43 --
and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so
Chrish sa'me, la.
Jam.
By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves
to slumber, ayle do gud service, or ayle lig i'th'
grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ayle pay't as
valorously as I may, that sall I suerly do, that is the
breff and the long: Mary, I wad full fain heard some
question 'tween you tway.
Flu.
Captain Mac-morris, 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 Mac-morris, 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 war, 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.
Gow.
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
Jam.
Au! that's a foul fault.
[Parley sounded.
Gow.
The town sounds a parley.
Flu.
Captain Mac-morris, when there is more petter
opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so pold
as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war; and there
is an end.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The same. Before a Gate. Governor, and Others, upon the walls; below, the English Forces.
-- 44 --
Flourish. Enter King Henry, and Train.
Kin.
How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit note:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
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 up;
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 flow'ring infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,—
Array'd in flames note, like to the prince of fiends,—
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all 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 precépts 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;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'er-blows the filthy and contagious clouds
-- 45 --
Of heady note murther, spoil, and villany.
If not, Why, in a moment, look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile note 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?
Gov.
Our expectation hath this day an end:
The dauphin, whom of succour note we entreated,
Returns us—that his powers are not yet note ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king note,
We yield our town, and lives, to thy soft mercy:
Enter our gates; dispose of us, and ours;
For we no longer are defensible note.
Kin.
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, good uncle.
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
To-night14Q0746 in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
[Flourish; and Exeunt English to the Town.
SCENE IV.
Roan. A Room in the Palace.
Enter the Lady Catharine, and Alice.
Cat.
Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, et tu parles bien
-- 46 --
le language.
Ali.
Un peu, madame.
Cat.
Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne á
parler. Comment appellez vous—la main, en Anglois?
Ali.
La main? ell' est appellée—de hand.
Cat.14Q0747
De hand. Et les doigts?
Ali.
Les doigts? ma foy, je oublie—les doigts; mais
je me souviendray. Les doigts? Je pense, qu'ils sont appellé
—de fingers; oui, de fingers.
Cat.
La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingers: Je
pense, que je suis le bon escolier; je gagnée deux mots d' Anglois
vistement. Comment appellez vous—les ongles?
Ali.
Les ongles? les appellons—de nails.
Cat.
De nails. Escoutez; dites moi, si je parle bien:
De hand, de fingers, de nails.
Ali.
C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois.
Cat.
Dites moi en Anglois—le bras.
Ali.
De arm, madame.
Cat.
Et le coude.
Ali.
De elbow.
Cat.
De elbow. Je m'en faitz la repetition de tous les
mots que vous m'avez apprinse dés á present.
Ali.
Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.
Cat.
Excusez moi, Alice; Escoutez: De hand, de
fingers, de nails, de arm, de bilbow.
Ali.
De elbow, madame.
Cat.
O seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie; De elbow.
Comment appellez vous—le col?
Ali.
De neck, madame.
Cat.
De neck: Et le menton?
Ali.
De chin.
Cat.
De sin. Le col, de neck; le menton, de sin.
-- 47 --
Ali.
Oui. Sauf vostre honneur; en verité, vous prononcez
les mots aussi droict que les natifs d' Anglettere.
Cat.
Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de
Dieu; et en peu de temps.
Ali.
N'avez vous pas déja oublié ce que je vous ay enseignée?
Cat.
Non; je reciteray á vous promptement. De hand,
de fingers, de mails,—
Ali.
De nails, madame.
Cat.
De nails, de arm, de ilbow,—
Ali.
Sauf vostre honneur, de elbow.
Cat.
Ainsi dis je; de elbow, de neck, et de sin. Comment
appellez vous—les pieds, et la robe?
Ali.
De foot, madame; et de con.
Cat.
De foot, et de con? O seigneur Dieu! ces sont
mots de son mauvais, corruptible, grosse, et impudique, et
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, et de con, neant-moins. Je reciteray
une autre fois ma leçon ensemble: De hand, de fingers,
de nails, de arm, de elbow, de neck, de sin, de
foot, de con.
Ali.
Excellent, madame!
Cat.
C'est assez pour une fois; allons nous en disner.
SCENE V.
The same. Another Room in the same.
Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Duke of
Bourbon, the Constable of France, and Others.
Fr. K.
'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,—
-- 48 --
The emptying of our fathers' luxury,—
Our syens, put in wild and savage stock,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
And over-grow their grafters?
Bou.
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
In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
Con.
Dieu de batailles! where note have they this mettle?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despight note, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping isicles
Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people
Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields;
Poor—we may call them, 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.
Bou.
They bid us—to the English dancing-schools,
And teach lavolta's high, and swift corranto's; note
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty run-aways.
Fr. K.
Where is Montjoy, the herald? speed him hence;
Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.—
-- 49 --
Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edg'd,
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
Alenson, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandprée, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes,14Q0748 great princes, barons, lords, and knights note,
For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur:
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the valleys; whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon:
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.
Fr. K.
Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy;
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. K.
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.
-- 50 --
SCENE VI.
Camp of the English Forces in Picardy.
Enter Gower, and Fluellen, meeting.
Gow.
How now, captain Fluellen? come you from
the bridge?
Flu.
I assure you, there is very excellent service note
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 note love and honour with
my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life note, and
my livings note, and my uttermost powers: he is not (Got be
praised and blessed!) 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 note service.
Gow.
What do note you call him?
Flu.
He is call'd—ancient note Pistol.
Gow.
I know him not.
Enter Pistol.
Flu.
Do you not know him? Here comes the man. note
Pis.
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.
Pis.
Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
Of note buxom valour, hath,—by cruel fate,
And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind,
That stands upon the rowling restless stone,—
-- 51 --
Flu.
By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune is
painted plind, with a muffler afore her eyes note, to signify
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 variations, note note
and mutabilities: and her foot, look you, is fixed upon
a spherical stone, which rowls, and rowls, and rowls;—
Surely, the poet is make an excellent description of
fortune; fortune, look you, is an excellent moral. note
Pis.
Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
For he hath stoln a pax,14Q0749 and hanged must 'a be note.
Damn'd death note!
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 pax of little price note.
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:
Pis.
Why then rejoice therefóre.
Flu.
Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice
at: for if, look you, he were my prother, I would desire
the duke to use his goot pleasure, and put him to
executions; for disciplines note ought to be used.
Pis.
Die, and be damn'd; and figo for thy friendship!
Flu.
It is well.
Pis.
The fig of Spain!
[Exit Pistol.
Flu.
Very good.
Gow.
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I
-- 52 --
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 note 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 note London, under the form of a soldier. And such
fellows are perfect in great note commanders' names: and
they will learn you by rote, where services were done;—
at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a
convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgraced,
what terms the enemy stood on; and this they
con perfectly in phrase note of war, which they trick up
with new-tuned note oaths: And what a beard of the general's
cut, and a horrid shout of note the camp, will do
among foming bottles, and ale-wash'd wits, is wonderful
to be thought on! But you must learn to know such
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. [Drum heard.] Hark you, the king is
coming; and I must speak with him from the pridge.
Enter King Henry, and Forces; Gloster, and Others with him.
Got pless your majesty!
Kin.
How now, Fluellen? camest 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
-- 53 --
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.
Kin.
What men have you lost, Fluellen?
Flu.
The perdition note of th'athversary hath been very
great, reasonable great: marry, for my part, I think
the duke hath lost note never a man, but one that is like to
be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your
majesty know the man: his face is all pupuncles, and
whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips plows
at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plew,
and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his
fire's out.
Kin.
We would have all such offenders so cut off:—
and we give express charge, that, in our marches through
the country, there be nothing compell'd from the villages,
nothing taken but pay'd for; none of the French
upbraided, or abused in disdainful language; For,
when lenity note and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler
gamester is the soonest note winner.
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
Mon.
You know me by my habit.
Kin.
Well then, I know thee; What shall I know of thee?
Mon.
My master's mind.
Kin.
Unfold it.
Mon.
Thus says my king;—Say thou to Harry of
England, Though we seem'd 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 upon our cue, and our voice is
-- 54 --
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 born, 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 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 pronounc'd. So far my king
and master; so much my office.
Kin.
What is thy name? I know thy quality.
Mon.
Montjoy.
Kin.
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: 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 enfeebl'd;
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have,
Almost no better than so many French;
Who when they were in health, note 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;
-- 55 --
Yet, God before, tell him we note will come on,
Though France himself, and such another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's &dagger2; for thy labour, Montjoy.
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.
Mon.
I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness note.
[Exit Montjoy.
Glo.
I hope, they will not come upon us now.
Kin.
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.
SCENE VII.
The French Camp, near Agincourt.
Enter the Constable note of France, the Lord Rambures,
the Duke of Orleans, Dauphin, and 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.
-- 56 --
Dau.
What a long night is this!—I will not change
my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. Ha,
ha!14Q0750 he bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were
hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus, qui a les narine; 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 fire; and the dull elements
of earth, and water, never appear in him, but
only in patient stilness, while his rider mounts him:
he is, indeed, a horse; and all other jades you may
call—beasts. note
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
known note) to lay apart their particular functions, and
wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise; and
began thus, Wonder of nature,—
Orl.
I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
-- 57 --
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 note; which is the prescript praise, and
perfection, of a good and particular mistress.
Con.
Nay; for, methought, yesterday your mistress
shrewdly shook your back.
Dau.
So, perhaps, did yours.
Con.
Mine was not bridl'd.
Dau.
O! then, belike, she was old and gentle; and
you rode like a kerne of Ireland, your French hose off,
and in your strait trossers note.
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 note hair.
Con.
I could make as true a boast as that, if I had
a sow to my mistress.
Dau.
Le chien est retournè a son propre vomissement,
et la truie lavée note au bourbier: thou mak'st use of any
thing.
Con.
Yet I do 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 a many superfluously;
-- 58 --
and 'twere more honour, some were away.
Con.
Ev'n 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.
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
prisoners?
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.
-- 59 --
Con.
By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body saw
it, but his lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour; and, when
it appears, it will bate.
Orl.
Ill will never said well.
Con.
I 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&dotup; there stands your friend for the
devil: have at the very eye of that proverb, with—A
pox of the devil!
Orl.
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.
Mes.
My lord high constable, the English lie within
fifteeen hundred paces of your tent.
Con.
Who hath measur'd the ground?
Mes.
The lord Grandprée.
Con.
A valiant and most expert gentleman. 'Would,
it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs
not for the dawning, as we do.
Orl.
What a wretched and peevish fellow is this
king of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers note
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.
-- 60 --
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 note 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 beef, and iron and steal, note they will eat
like wolves, and fight like devils.
Orl.
Ay, but these English are shrewdly note out of beef.
Con.
Then shall we find to-morrow—they have only
stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to
arm; Come, shall we about it?
Orl.
It is now two o'clock: but, let me see,—by ten,
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.
[Exeunt.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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