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 IV.
[Prologue]
Enter Chorus.
Now entertain conjecture of a time,
When creeping murmur, and the poring dark,
Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night
The hum of either army stilly sounds,
That the fixt centinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other's watch:
Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other's umber'd face:
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
-- 61 --
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.
The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll;
And the third hour of drowzy morning's nam'd.
Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The morning's danger; and their gesture sad,14Q0751
And war-worn coats, investing note lank-lean cheeks, note
Presented them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts, note O, now, who will behold
The royal captain of this ruin'd band,
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him cry—Praise and glory on his head!
For forth he goes, and visits all his host;
Bids them good morrow, with a modest smile;
And calls them—brothers, friends, and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note,
How dread an army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night:
But freshly looks, and over-bears attaint,
With chearful semblance, and sweet majesty;
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks:
A largess universal, like the sun,
His liberal eye doth give to every one,
-- 62 --
Thawing cold fear. Then, mean note and gentle all,
Behold, as may unworthiness define,
A little touch of Harry in the night:
And so our scene must to the battle fly;
Where (o, for pity!) we shall much disgrace—
With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
Right ill dispos'd, in brawl ridiculous,—
The name of Agincourt: Yet, sit and see;
Minding true things by what their mockeries be.
[Exit.
SCENE I.
The English Camp.
Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloster.
Kin.
Gloster, 'tis true, that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore should our courage be.—
Good morrow, brother Bedford.—God almighty!
There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out;
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry:
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all; admonishing,
That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself.
Enter Erpingham.
Good morrow, old sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.
Erp.
Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better,
Since I may say—Now lye I like a king.
Kin.
'Tis good for men to love their present pains note,
Upon example; so the spirit is eased:
-- 63 --
And, when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt,
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowzy grave, and newly move
With casted slough and fresh legerity.
Lend me thy cloak, sir Thomas.—Brothers both,
[throwing the Cloak about him.
Commend me to the princes in our camp;
Do my good morrow to them; and, anon,
Desire them all to my pavilion.
Glo.
We shall, my liege.
[Exeunt Glo. and Bed.
Erp.
Shall I attend your grace?
Kin.
No, my good knight;
Go with my brothers to my lords of England:
I and my bosom must debate a while,
And then I would no other company.
Erp.
The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
[Exit Erpingham.
Kin.
God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st chearfully.
Enter Pistol.
Pis.
Qui va lá note? note
Kin.
A friend.
Pis.
Discuss unto me, Art thou officer?
Or art thou base, common, and popular?
Kin.
I am a gentleman of a company.
Pis.
Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
Kin.
Even so: What are you?
Pis.
As good a gentleman as the emperor.
Kin.
Then you are a better than the king.
Pis.
The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold;
A lad of life, an imp of fame;
Of parents good, of fist most valiant:
I kiss his dirty shoe, and from my note heart-strings note
-- 64 --
I love the lovely bully . What is thy name?
Kin.
Harry le Roi.
Pis.
Le Roi?—a Cornish name;—
Art thou of Cornish crew?
Kin.
No, I am a Welshman.
Pis.
Know'st thou Fluellen?
Kin.
Yes.
Pis.
Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate,
Upon saint Davy's day.
Kin.
Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that
day, lest he knock that about yours.
Pis.
Art thou his friend?
Kin.
And his kinsman too.
Pis.
The figo for thee then!
Kin.
I thank you: God be wi' you!
Pis.
My name is Pistol call'd.
[Exit.
Kin.
It sorts well with your fierceness.
Enter Gower, and Fluellen.
Gow.
Captain Fluellen,—
Flu.
So! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak fewer note.
It is the greatest admiration in the universal 'orld, when
the true and ancient prerogatifes and laws of the wars
is not kept: if you would take the pains but to examine
the wars of Pompey the great, you shall find, I
warrant you, that there is no tiddle taddle nor pibble
pabble in Pompey's camp; I warrant you, you shall find
the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and
the forms of it, and the sobriety of it, and the modesty
of it, to be otherwise.
Gow.
Why, the enemy is loud; you heard note him all
night.
Flu.
If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating
-- 65 --
coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also,
look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb;
in your own conscience now?
Gow.
I will speak lower.
Flu.
I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.
[Exeunt Gow. and Flu.
Kin.
Though it appear a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this Welshman.
Enter Bates, Court, and Williams.
Cou.
Brother John Bates, is not that the morning,
which breaks yonder?
Bat.
I think, it be: but we have no great cause to
desire the approach of day.
Wil.
We see yonder the beginning of the day, but,
I think, we shall never see the end of it.—Who goes
there?
Kin.
A friend.
Wil.
Under what captain serve you?
Kin.
Under sir Thomas note Erpingham.
Wil.
A good old commander, and a most kind gentleman:
I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?
Kin.
Even as men wreck'd upon a sand, that look
to be wash'd off the next tide.
Bat.
He hath not told his thought to the king?
Kin.
No; nor it is not meet, he should. For, though
I speak it to you, I think, the king is but a man, as I
am: the violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the element
shews to him, as it doth to me; all his senses have
but human conditions: his ceremonies lay'd by, in his
nakedness he appears but a man; and though his affections
are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they
stoop, they stoop with the like wing; therefore when
-- 66 --
he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears, out of doubt,
be of the same relish as ours are: Yet, in reason, no
man should possess him with any appearance of fear,
lest he, by shewing it, should dishearten his army.
Bat.
He may shew what outward courage he will:
but, I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish himself
in Thames up to the neck; and so I would he were,
and I by him, at all adventures, so we were quit here.
Kin.
By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the
king; I think, he would not wish himself any where,
but where he is.
Bat.
Then, 'would note he were here alone; so should
he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's lives
saved.
Kin.
I dare say, you love him not so ill, to wish
him here alone; howsoever you speak this, to feel other
men's minds: Methinks, I could not die any where so
contented, as in the king's company; his cause being
just, and his quarrel honorable.
Wil.
That's more than we know.
Bat.
Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we
know enough, if we know we are the king's subjects:
if his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes
the crime of it out of us.
Wil.
But, if the cause be not good, the king himself
hath a heavy reck'ning to make; when all those legs,
and arms, and heads, chopt off in a battle, shall join
together at the latter day, and cry all—We dy'd at such
a place; some, swearing; some, crying for a surgeon;
some, upon their wives left poor behind them; some,
upon the debts they owe; some, upon their children
rawly left: I am afeard, there are few die well, that
-- 67 --
die in a battle note; For how can they charitably dispose of
any thing, when blood is their argument? now, if these
men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the
king that led them to it; whom to note disobey, were against
all proportion of subjection.
Kin.
So, if a son,14Q0752 that is by his father sent about
merchandize, do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation
of his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed
upon his father that sent him: or if a servant,
under his master's command, transporting a sum of money,
be assail'd by robbers, and die in many irreconcil'd
iniquities, you may call the business of the master the
author of the servant's damnation: But this is not so:
the king is not bound to answer the particular endings
of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of
his servant; for they purpose not their death, when
they purpose their services. Besides, there is no king,
be his cause never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrement
of swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers:
some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of
premeditated and contrived murther; some, of beguiling
virgins with the broken seals of perjury; some, making
the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the
gentle bosom of peace with pillage and robbery: Now,
if these men have defeated the law, and out-run native
punishment, though they can out-strip men, they have
no wings to fly from God: war is his beadle, war is
his vengeance; so that here men are punish'd, for before-breach
of the king's laws, in now the king's quarrel:
where they feared the death, they have born life
away; and where they would be safe, they perish:
then if they die unprovided, no more is the king guilty
-- 68 --
of their damnation, than he was before guilty of those
impieties for the which they are now visited. Every
subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is
his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars
do as every sick man in his bed, wash every moth out
of his conscience: and dying so, death is to him advantage;
or not dying, the time was blessedly lost,
wherein such preparation was gained: and, in him that
escapes, it were not sin to think, that, making God
so free an offer, he let him out-live that day, to see his
greatness, and to teach others how they should prepare.
Wil.
'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill
upon his own head, the king is not to answer it. note
Bat.
I do not desire he should answer for me; and
yet I determine to fight lustily for him.
Kin.
I myself heard the king say, he would not be
ransom'd.
Wil.
Ay, he said so, to make us fight chearfully:
but, when our throats are cut, he may be ransom'd, and
we ne'er the wiser.
Kin.
If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.
Wil.
You pay him then! that's a perilous shot out
of an elder gun, that a poor and a private displeasure
can do against a monarch&dotup; you may as well go about to
turn the sun to ice, with fanning in his face with a
peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word after!
come, 'tis a foolish saying.
Kin.
Your reproof is something too round; I should
be angry with you, if the time were convenient.
Wil.
Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.
Kin.
I embrace it.
Wil.
How shall I know thee again?
-- 69 --
Kin.
Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear
it in my bonnet: then, if ever thou dar'st acknowledge
it, I will make it my quarrel.
Wil.
Here's my &dagger2; glove; give me another of thine.
Kin.
There &dagger2;.
Wil.
This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou
come to me, and say, after to-morrow, This is my glove,
by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.
Kin.
If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.
Wil.
Thou dar'st as well be hang'd.
Kin.
Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the
king's company.
Wil.
Keep thy word: fare thee well.
Bat.
Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we
have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to
reckon.
Kin.
Indeed, the French may lay twenty French
crowns to one, they will beat us; for they bear them
on their shoulders: But it is no English treason, to cut
French crowns; and, to-morrow, the king himself will
be a clipper.
[Exeunt Soldiers.
Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,
Our debts, our careful wives, our children, and
Our sins, lay on the king;—we must bear all.
O hard condition! twin-born with greatness,
Subjected to the breath of every fool,
Whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing!
What infinite heart's-ease must kings neglect,
That private men enjoy?
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
-- 70 --
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of mortal griefs, than do thy worshippers?
What are thy rents,14Q0753 what are thy comings-in,
O ceremony,—shew me but thy worth,—
What is thy roul note of adoration note?
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men?
Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd,
Than they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
Think'st note thou, the fiery fever will go out
With titles blown from adulation?
Will it note give place to flexure and low bending?
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose,
I am a king, that find thee: and I know,
'Tis not the balm, the scepter, and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The enter-tissu'd robe of gold and pearl,
The farsed title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the high shore of this world,
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony, note
Not all these, lay'd in bed majestical,
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave;
Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
Gets him to rest, cram'd with distressful bread;
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell;
But, like a lacquey, from the rise to set,
-- 71 --
Sweats in the eye of Phœbus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day, after dawn,
Doth rise, and help Hyperion note to his horse;
And follows so the ever-running year,
With profitable labour, to his grave:
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots,
What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
Enter Erpingham.
Erp.
My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
Seek through your camp to find you.
Kin.
Good old knight,
Collect them all together at my tent:
I'll be before thee.
Erp.
I shall do't, my lord.
[Exit.
Kin.
O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts!
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reck'ning, lest the opposed note numbers
Pluck their hearts from them! Not to-day, o Lord,
O not to-day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interred new;
And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears,
Than from it issu'd forced drops of blood:
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built
Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests
-- 72 --
Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do:
Though all that I can do, is nothing worth;
Since that my penitence comes after all,
Imploring pardon.
Enter Gloster .
Glo.
My liege!
Kin.
My brother Gloster's voice.—
I know thy errand, I will go with thee:—
The day, my friends note, and all things stay for me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The French Camp.
Enter Dauphin, Orleans, Rambures, and Others.
Orl.
The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords.
Dau.
Montez cheval:14Q0754—My horse! valet note! lacquay! ha!
Orl.
O brave spirit!
Dau.
Via! l' eau et terre.14Q0755
Orl.
Rien plus? l' air et feu.
Enter Constable.
Dau.
Ciel! cousin Orleans,—Now, my lord constable?
Con.
Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh.
Dau.
Mount them, and make incision in their hides;
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
And daunt note them with superfluous courage. Ha!
Ram.
What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?
How shall we then behold their natural tears?
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
The English are embattl'd, you French peers.
Con.
To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
Do but behold yon' poor and starved band,
And your fair shew shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands;
-- 73 --
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins,
To give each naked curtle-ax a stain,
That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
And sheath for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,
The vapour of our valour will o'er-turn them.
'Tis positive 'gainst note all exceptions note, lords,
That our superfluous lacqueys, and our peasants,—
Who, in unnecessary action, swarm
About our squares of battle,—were enough
To purge this field of such a hilding foe;
Though we upon this mountain's basis by
Took stand for idle speculation:
But that our honours must not. What's to say?
A very little little let us do,
And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket sonuance, and the note to mount:
For our approach shall so much dare the field,
That England shall couch down in fear, and yield.
Enter Grandpree .
Gra.
Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
Yon' island carrions, desperate of their bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the morning field:
Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them passing scornfully.
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,
And faintly through a rusty bever peeps.
Their horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,
With torch-staves in their hand note: and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, drooping the hide note and hips;
The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes;
And in their palled mouths note the jymold bit
Lies foul with chaw'd grass, still and motionless;
-- 74 --
And their executors, the knavish crows,
Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.
Description cannot suit itself in words,
To démonstrate the life of such a battle
In life so lifeless as it shews itself.
Con.
They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.
Dau.
Shall we go send them dinners, and fresh suits,
And give their fasting horses provender,
And after fight with them?
Con.
I stay but for my guard; On, to the field: note
I will the banner from a trumpet take,
And use it for my haste. Come, come away;
The sun is high, and we out-wear the day.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Before the Camp.
Enter the Host of England; Bedford, Gloster,
Exeter, Salisbury, and Westmorland.
Glo.
Where is the king?
Bed.
The king himself is rode to view their battle.
Wes.
Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.
Exe.
There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
Sal.
God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge:
If we no more meet, 'till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully,—my noble lord of Bedford,—
My dear lord Gloster,—and my good lord Exeter,—
And my kind kinsman,—warriors all, adieu!
Bed.
Farewel, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee.
Exe.
Farewel, kind lord;14Q0756 fight valiantly to-day.
And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd note of the firm truth of valour.
[Ex. Sal.
-- 75 --
Bed.
He is as full of valour, as of kindness;
Princely in both.
Wes.
O, that we now had here
Enter King Henry.
But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!
Kin.
What's he, that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland?—No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost;
It yerns me not, if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But, if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, 'faith, my coz', wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more:
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,—
That he, which hath no stomack to this fight, note
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd—the feast of Crispian:
He, that out-lives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouze him at the name of Crispian.
-- 76 --
He, that shall live this day, and see old age note,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say—to-morrow is saint Crispian:
Then will he strip his sleeve, and shew his skars.
Old men forget;14Q0757 all note shall not note be forgot;
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as houshold words,—
Harry the king, Bedford, and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,—
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, note
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England, now abed,
Shall think themselves accurs'd, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while note any speaks,
That fought with us upon saint Crispin's day.
Re-enter Salisbury.
Sal.
My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.
Kin.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
Wes.
Perish the man, whose mind is backward now.
Kin.
Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin? note
Wes.
God's will, my liege, would you and I alone
-- 77 --
Without more help, might fight this battle note out.
Kin.
Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
Which likes me better, than to wish us one—
You know your places: God be with you all!
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
Mon.
Once more I come to know of thee, king Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow:
For, certainly, thou art so near the gulph,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The constable desires thee—thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where (wretches) their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.
Kin.
Who hath sent thee now?
Mon.
The constable of France.
Kin.
I pray thee, bear my former answer back;
Bid them atchieve me, and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man, that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall, no doubt,
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day's work:
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though bury'd in your dunghills,
They shall be fam'd; for there the sun shall greet them,
And draw their honours reeking up to heaven;
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then a bounding note note valour in our English;
-- 78 --
That, being dead, like to the bullet's grazing note,
Breaks note out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse. note
Let me speak proudly;—Tell the constable,
We are but warriors for the working-day:
Our gayness, and our gilt, are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There's not a piece of feather in our host,
(Good argument, I hope, we shall not note fly)
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poor soldiers tell me—yet ere night,
They'll be in fresher robes; or they note will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads,
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
(As, if please God, they shall) my ransom then
Will soon be levy'd. Herald, save thy labour;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald;
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints note:
Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.
Mon.
I shall, king Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
[Exit.
Kin.
I fear, thou'lt once more come again for ransom.
Enter the Duke of York.
Yor.
My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.
Kin.
Take it brave York.—Now, soldiers, march away:—
And how thou note pleasest, God, dispose the day.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The Field of Battle.
Alarums, as of a Battle join'd. Excursions. Enter a
-- 79 --
Frenchman , flying; Pistol, and Boy, following.
Pis.
Yield, cur.
Fre.
Je pense, que vous estes le gentilhomme de bonne
qualité.
Pis.
Quality! cality note!—construe me,—
Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name?
Discuss.
Fre.
O seigneur Dieu!
Pis.
O, signieur Dew should be a gentleman:—
Perpend my words, o signieur Dew, and mark;—
O signieur Dew, thou dy'st on point of fox,
Except, o signieur, thou do give to me
Egregious ransom.
Fre.
O, prennez misericorde! ayez pitié de moi!
Pis.
Moy shall not serve,14Q0758 I will have forty moys;
Or I note will fetch thy rim out at thy throat,
In drops of crimson blood.
Fre.
Est il impossible d' eschapper la force de ton bras?
Pis.
Brass, cur!
Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,
Offer'st me brass?
Fre.
O, pardonnez moi!
Pis.
Say'st thou me so? is that a tun of moys?—
Come hither, boy; Ask me this slave in French
What is his name.
Boy.
Escoutez; Comment estes vous appellé?
Fre.
Monsieur le Fer. note
Boy.
He says, his name is—master Fer. note
Pis.
Master Fer! I'll fer him, and ferk him, and
ferret him:—discuss the same in French unto him.
Boy.
I do not know the French note for fer, and ferret,
and ferk.
-- 80 --
Pis.
Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
Fre.
Que dit-il, monsieur?
Boy
Il me commande de vous dire, que vous vous note teniez
prest; car ce soldat ici est disposé tout á cette heure note de
couper vostre gorge.
Pis.
Oui, coupe le gorge, par ma foy, pesant,
Unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
Or mangl'd shalt thou be by this my sword.
Fre.
O, je vous supplie, pour l' amour de Dieu, me pardonner!
Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison; gardez ma
vie, et je vous donneray deux cents escus.
Pis.
What are his words?
Boy.
He prays you to save his life: he is a gentleman
of a good house; and, for his ransom, he will give
you two hundred crowns.
Pis.
Tell him—my fury shall abate,
And I the crowns will take.
Fre.
Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
Boy.
Encore qu'il est contre son jurement, de pardonner
aucun prisonnier; neantmoins, pour les escus que vous lui
promettez note, il est content de vous donner la liberté, le franchisement note.
Fre.
Sur mes genoux, je vous donne mille remerciemens:
et je me estime heureux, que j' ai tombé note note entre les mains d'un
chevalier, comme je pense, le plus brave, valiant, et tres
distingué note note seigneur d' Angleterre.
Pis.
Expound unto me, boy.
Boy.
He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand
thanks: and esteems himself happy, that he hath fall'n
into the hands of one (as he thinks) the most brave, valorous,
and thrice-worthy signieur of England.
Pis.
As I suck blood, I will some mercy shew.—
-- 81 --
Follow me, cur note.
[Exit Pistol.
Boy.
Suivez note vous note le grand capitain.
[Exit Frenchman, after him.
I did never know so full a note voice issue from so empty
a heart: but the saying is note true,—The empty vessel
makes the greatest sound. Bardolph, and Nym, had ten
times more valour than this roaring devil i' the old play,
that every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger;
and they are both hang'd; and so would this be,
if he durst steal any thing advent'rously. I must stay
with the lacqueys, with the luggage of our camp: the
French note might have a good prey note of us, if he knew of it;
for there is none to guard it, but boys.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
The same. Another Part of it.
Alarums, &c. Enter Dauphin, Orleans, Constable,
Bourbon, and divers Others.
Con.
O diable!
Orl.
O seigneur!—le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
Dau.
Mort de ma note vie! all is confounded, all!
Reproach, reproach, and everlasting shame
Sits mocking in our plumes.—O meschante fortune!—
Do not run away.
[other Alarums.
Con.
Why, all our ranks are broke.
Dau.
O perdurable shame!—let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches, that we play'd at dice for?
Orl.
Is this the king, we sent to for his ransom?
Bou.
Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
Let us die instant note:—Once more back again;
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go hence, and, with his cap in hand,
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door,
-- 82 --
Whilst by a note slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminate note.
Con.
Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us note now:
Let us, on heaps, go offer up our lives.
Orl.
We are enough, yet living in the field,
To smother up the English in our throngs,
If any order might be thought upon.
Bou.
The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:
Let life be short; else, shame will be too long.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
The same. Another Part of it.
Alarums. Enter King Henry, and Forces;
Exeter and Others, with him.
Kin.
Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen:
But all's not done, yet keep the French the field.
Exe.
The duke of York commends him to your majesty.
Kin.
Lives he, good uncle? thrice, within this hour,
I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.
Exe.
In which array (brave soldier) doth he lie,
Larding the plain: and by his bloody side
(Yoak-fellow to his honour-owing note wounds)
The noble earl of Suffolk also lies.
Suffolk first dy'd: and York, all haggl'd o'er note,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
And cries aloud,—Tarry, my cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven:
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;
As, in this glorious and well-foughten field,
We kept together in our chivalry!
-- 83 --
Upon these words, I came, and cheer'd him up:
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says,—Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending note love:
The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd
Those waters from me, which I would have stop'd; note
But I had not so much of man in me;
But all note my mother came into mine eyes,
And gave me up to tears.
Kin.
I blame you not;
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful note14Q0759 eyes, or they will issue too.—
[a loud Alarum.
But, hark!14Q0760 what new alarum is this same?—
The French have re-inforc'd their scatter'd men:—
Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
Give the word through.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
The same. Another Part of it.
Alarums. Enter Gower, and Fluellen.
Flu
Kill the poys, and the luggage! 'tis expresly
against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery,
mark you now, as can be offer'd; In your conscience
now, is it not?
Gow.
'Tis certain, there's not a boy left alive; and
the cowardly rascals, that ran from the battle, ha' done
this slaughter: besides, they have burned, and carry'd
away, all that was in the king's tent; wherefore the
-- 84 --
king, most worthily, hath caus'd every soldier to cut his
prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a gallant king!
Flu.
Ay, he was born at Monmouth, captain Gower:
What call you the town's name, where Alexander the
pig was born?
Gow.
Alexander the great.
Flu.
Why, I pray you, is not, pig, great? the pig,
or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous,
are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a
little variations.
Gow.
I think, Alexander the great was born in Macedon;
his father was call'd—Philip of Macedon, as I
take it.
Flu.
I think, it is in Macedon, where Alexander is
porn. I tell you, captain,—If you look in the maps
of the 'orld, I warrant, you shall find, in the comparisons
between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations,
look you, is both alike: There is a river in Macedon;
and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth: it is
call'd Wye, at Monmouth; but it is out of my prains, what
is the name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis so
like as note my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons
in both. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of
Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for
there is figures in all things. Alexander, (Got knows, and
you know) in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths,
and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures,
and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates
in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you,
kill his pest friend Clytus.
Gow.
Our king is not like him in that; he never
kill'd any of his friends.
-- 85 --
Flu.
It is not well done, mark you now, to take the
tales out of my mouth, ere it is made an end note and finished.
I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: As Alexander
is kill his note friend Clytus, being in his ales and his
cups; so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits
and his goot judgments, is turn away note the fat knight with
the great-pelly doublet; he was full of jests, and gypes,
and knaveries, and mocks, I am forget his name.
Gow.
Sir John Falstaff.
Flu.
That is he: I'll tell you, there is goot men
porn at Monmouth.
Gow.
Here comes his majesty.
Alarums. Enter King Henry, and Forces; Warwick,
Gloster, Exeter, and Others.
Kin.
I was not angry since I came to France,
Until this instant.—Take a trumpet, herald;
Ride thou unto note the horsemen on yon' hill:
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field; they do offend our sight:
If they'll do note neither, we will come to them;
And make them skir away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have;
And not a man of them, that we shall take,
Shall taste our mercy: Go, and tell them so.
[Exeunt a Herald, and Others.
Exe.
Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.
Enter Montjoy.
Glo.
His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.
Kin.
How now! what means this herald note? know'st thou not,
That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?
Com'st thou again for ransom?
-- 86 --
Mon.
No, great king:
I come to thee for charitable licence,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our princes (woe the while!)
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes; and the wounded note steeds
Fret fetlock-deep in gore, and, with wild rage,
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety, and dispose
Of their dead bodies.
Kin.
I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not, if the day be ours, or no;
For yet a many of your horse appear note,
And gallop o'er the field.
Mon.
The day is yours.
Kin.
Praised be God, and not our strength for note it.—
What is this castle call'd, that stands hard by?
Mon.
They call it—Agincourt.
Kin.
Then call we this—the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
Flu.
Your grandfather of famous memory, an't
please your majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the
plack prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles,
fought a most prave pattle here in France.
Kin.
They did, Fluellen.
Flu.
Your majesty says very true: If your majesties
is remember'd of it, the Welshmen did goot note service in a
garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their
-- 87 --
Monmouth caps; which, your majesty know, to this hour
is an honourable padge of the service: and, I do believe,
your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon
saint Tavy's day.
Kin.
I wear it for a memorable honour:
For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
Flu.
All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's
Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:
Got pless it, and preserve it, as long as it pleases his
grace and his majesty too!
Kin.
Thanks, good my countryman note.
Flu.
By Cheshu, I am your majesty's countryman, I
care not who know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld:
I need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be
Got, so long as your majesty is an honest man.
Kin.
God note keep me so!—Our heralds note, go with him;
Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts.—Call yonder fellow hither.
[seeing Williams among the Troops.
Exe.
Soldier, you must come to the king.
[Exeunt Montjoy, and Others.
Kin.
Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?
Wil.
An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one
that I should fight withal, if he be alive.
Kin.
An Englishman?
Wil.
An't please your majesty; a rascal, that swagger'd
with me last night: who if 'a live note, and ever dare
to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box
o'the ear: or, if I can see my glove in his cap, (which,
he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear, if alive)
I would strike it out soundly.
Kin.
What think you, captain Fluellen; is it fit, this
-- 88 --
soldier keep his oath?
Flu.
He is a craven and a villain else, an't please
your majesty, in my conscience.
Kin.
It may be, his enemy is a gentleman of great
sort, quite from the answer of his degree.
Flu.
Though he be as goot a gentleman as the tevil
is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look
your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath: if he
be perjur'd, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a
villain and a jack-sauce, as ever his plack shoe trod
upon Got's ground and his earth, in my conscience, la.
Kin.
Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st
the fellow.
Wil.
So I will, my liege, as I live.
Kin.
Who serv'st thou under?
Wil.
Under captain Gower, my liege.
Flu.
Gower is a goot captain; and is goot knowledge
and literature note in the wars.
Kin.
Call him hither to me, soldier.
Wil.
I will, my liege.
[Exit.
Kin.
Here, Fluellen; wear thou this &dagger2; favour for me,
and stick it in thy cap: When Alenson and myself were
down together, I pluck'd this glove from his helm: if
any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alenson, and an
enemy to our person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend
him, an thou dost love me.
Flu.
Your grace does me as great honours, as can be
desired in the hearts of his subjects: I would fain see
the man, that has but two legs, that shall find himself
agrief'd note at this glove, that is all; but I would fain see
it once; an please Got of his grace, that I might see it.
Kin.
Know'st thou Gower?
-- 89 --
Flu.
He is my dear friend, an please you.
Kin.
Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.
Flu.
I will fetch him.
[Exit.
Kin.
My lord of Warwick,—and my brother Gloster,—
Follow Fluellen closely at the heels:
The glove, which I have given him for a favour,
May, haply, purchase him a box o'the ear;
It is the soldier's; I, by bargain, should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick:
If that the soldier strike him, (as, I judge
By his blunt bearing, he will keep his word)
Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
For I do know Fluellen valiant,
And, touch'd with choler, hot as gun-powder,
And quickly will return an injury:
Follow, and see there be no harm between them.—
Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
The English Camp.
Enter Gower, and Williams.
Wil.
I warrant, it is to knight you, captain.
Enter Fluellen.
Flu.
Got's will and his pleasure, captain, I peseech
you now, come apace to the king: there is more goot
toward you, peradventure, than is in your knowledge
to dream of.
Wil.
Sir, know you this glove?
[shewing that in his Cap.
Flu.
Know the glove? I know, the glove is a glove.
Wil.
I know this; [pointing to the Glove in Fluellen's
Cap.] and thus I challenge it.
[strikes him.
Flu.
'Sblud, an arrant traitor, as any's in the universal
'orld, or in France, or in England.
-- 90 --
Gow.
How now, sir? you villain!
Wil.
Do you think I'll be forsworn?
Flu.
Stand away, captain Gower; I will give treason
his payment in note plows, I warrant you.
Wil.
I am no traitor.
Flu.
That's a lie in thy throat.—I charge you in
his majesty's name, apprehend him; he's a friend of
the duke Alenson's.
Enter Warwick, and Gloster.
War.
How now, how now! what's the matter?
Flu.
My lord of Warwick, here is (praised be Got
for it) a most contagious treason come to light, look
you, as you shall desire in a summer's day. Here is his
majesty.
Enter King Henry, and Exeter.
Kin.
How now! what's the matter?
Flu.
My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that,
look your grace, has strook note the glove which your majesty
is take out of the helmet of Alenson.
Wil.
My liege, that was note my glove, here is † the fellow
of it: and he, that I gave it to in change, promis'd
to wear it in his cap; I promis'd to strike him, if he
did: I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I
have 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 note, and avouchments note, that this is the glove of
Alenson, that your majesty is give me, in your conscience
now.
Kin.
Give me thy glove, soldier;14Q0761 Look, here is † the fellow of it:
'Twas I, note indeed, thou promised'st to strike;
-- 91 --
And thou hast given me most bitter terms note.
Flu.
An please your majesty, let his neck answer
for it, if there is any martial law in in the 'orld.
Kin.
How canst thou make me satisfaction?
Wil.
All offences, my liege, note come from the heart:
never came any from mine, that might offend your
majesty.
Kin.
It was ourself thou didst abuse.
Wil.
Your majesty came not like yourself: you appear'd
to me but as a common man; witness the night,
your garments, your lowliness; and what your highness
suffer'd under that shape, I beseech you, take it
for your own fault, and not mine: for had you been note
as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech
your highness, pardon me.
Kin.
Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove &dagger2; with crowns,
And 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 pelly:—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 dissentions,
and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you.
Wil.
I will none of your money.
Flu.
It is with a goot 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 goot: 'tis a goot
silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.
Enter a Herald, and Others.
Kin.
Now, herald; are the dead number'd?
-- 92 --
Her.
Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.
[kneeling, and delivering Papers.
Kin.
What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
Exe.
Charles duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;
John duke of Bourbon, and lord Bouciqualt:
Of other lords, and barons, knights, and 'squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
Kin.
This note doth tell me of ten thousand French,
That in the field lie slain: 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 dub'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 De-la-bret, high constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillion, admiral of France;
The master of the cross-bows, lord Rambures;
Great-master of France, the brave sir Guischard Dolphin;
John duke of Alenson note; Antony note duke of Brabant,
The brother to the duke of Burgundy;
And Edward duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandprée, and Roussi, Fauconberg, and Foix,
Beaumont, and Marle, Vaudemont, and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!—
Where is the number of our English dead?—
[Herald shews him another Paper.
Edward the duke of York, the earl of Suffolk,
-- 93 --
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam esquire,
None else of name; and, of all other men,
But five 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 the other?—take it, God,
For it is only thine.
Exe.
'Tis wonderful!
Kin.
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 please your majesty, to tell
how many is kill'd?
Kin.
Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment,
That God fought for us.
Flu.
Yes, my note conscience, he did us great goot.
Kin.
Do we all holy rites;
Let there be sung, Non nobis, and Te deum.
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay,
We'll then to Calais; and to England then note;
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happier men note.
[Flourish. 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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