What is it then to me, if impious war,-
Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,-
Do, with his smirch'd* complexion, all fellt
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
[feats
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 hootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil,
As send precepts to the Leviathan
[fleur,
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Har-
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

Exeter,

Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,-
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we'll retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.§

[Flourish. The King, &c. enter the Town. SCENE IV. -Roüen. A Room in the Palace. Enter KATHARINE and ALICE.

Kath. Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le language.

Alice. Un peu madame.

Kath. Je te prie, m'enseigneuz; il faut que j'apprenne à parler. Comment appellez vous la main, en Anglois?

Alice. La main? elle est appellée, de hand.

* Soiled. + Cruel. + Without success. Prepared,

Kath. De hand. Et les doigts? Alice. Les doigts? may foy, je oublie les doigts; mais je me souviendray. Les doits? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres; ouy, de fingres.

Kath. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon escolier J'ay gagné deux mots d'Anglois vistement. Com ment appellez vous les ongles?

Alice. Les ongles? les appellons, de nails. Kath. De nails. Escoutez; dites moy, si je parle bien: de hand, de fingres, de nails.

Alice. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon

Anglois.

Kath. Dites moy en Anglois, le bras. Alice. De arm, madame.

Kath. Et le coude?

Alice. De elbow.

Kath. De elbow. Je m'en faitz la repetition de tous les mots, que vous m'avez appris dès a present.

Alice. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.

Kath, Excusez moy, Alice; escoutez: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de bilbow. Alice. De elbow, madame.

Kath. O Seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie; De elbow. Comment appellez vous le col?

Alice. De neck, madame.

Kath. De neck: Et le menton?

Alice. De chin.

Alice. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur: en verité, vous prononces les mots aussi droict que les matifs d'Angleterre.

Kath. Je ne doute point d'apprendre par la grace de Dieu; et en peu de temps.

Alice. N'avez vous pas deja oublié ce que je vous ay enseignée?

Kath. Non, je reciteray à vous promptement. De hand de fingre, de mails,Alice. De nails, madame.

Kath. De nails, de arme, de ilbow. Alice. Sauf vostre honneur, de elbow. Kath. Ainsi dis je; de elbow, de neck, et de sin: Comment appellez vous le pieds et la robe ? Alice. De foot, madame; et de con.

Kath. 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 reciterai une autre fois ma leçon ensemble: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de elbow, de neck, de sin, de foot, de con. Alice. Excellent, mudame! Kath. C'est assez pour une fois; allons nous a disner. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.- The samc.-Another Room in the

samc.

Enter the French KING, the DAUPHIN, Duke of BOURBON, the CONSTABLE of France, and others. Fr. King. 'Tis certain, he hath pass'd the river Some.

Con. And if he be not fought withal, my lord, Let us not live in France; let us quit all, And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. Dau. O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,

The emptying of our father's luxury,
Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
And overlook their grafters?

mettle?

Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns! Can sodden

water,

Decoct their cold blood to valiant

[broth,

A drench for sur-rein'dt jades, their barley And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,

Let us not hang like roping icicles [people Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty 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.

Bour. They bid us to the English dancingschools, And teach lavoltast high, and swift corantos; Saying, our grace is only in our heels, And that we are most lofty runaways.

Fr. King. Where is Montjoy, the herald? speed him hence;

Let him greet England with our sharp defi

ance.

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, Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont, Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconberg,

Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and

knights,

shames.

For your great seats, now quit you of great land Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our With pennonss painted in the blood of Harfleur:

Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the vallies; 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 Roüen
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 achievement, offer us his ransom.

Fr. King. 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
Dau. Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
Fr. King. Be patient, for you shall remain

Roüen.

with us.

Now, forth, lord constable, and princes all; And quickly bring us word of England's fall. [Exeunt.

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 not, (God be praised, and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ensign there at the pridge, -I think, in my very conscience, he is as valiant as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the 'orld: but I did see him do gallant service.

Gow. What do you call him?
Flu. He is called-ancient Pistol.
Gow. I know him not.

heart,

Of buxom valour, 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. Fortune is painted plind, with a mufflert before her eyes, 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, and mutabilities: and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls;-In good truth, the poet is make a most excellent description of fortune: fortune, look you, is an excellent moral.

Pist. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;

For he hath stol'n a pix, and hanged must'a be.
A damned death!

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.
[voice;
Therefore, go speak, the duke will hear thy
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 re-
quite.

Flu. Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.

Pist. Why then rejoice therefore. Flu. Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at: for I would desire the duke to use his goot plea if, look you, he were my brother, sure, and put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be used.

Pist. Die and be damn'd; and figos for thy friendship!

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 great 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 the phrase of war, which they trick up with newtuned oaths: And what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid suit of the camp, will do among foaming bottles, and ale-washed wits, is wonderful to be thought on! but you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be marvellous mistook.

Flu. I tell you what, captain Gower;-I do perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly make show 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, GLOSTER, and Soldiers. Flu. Got pless your majesty! K. Hen. How now, Fluellen? camest thou from the bridge?

Flu. Ay, so please your majesty. The duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintained 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.

we did but sleep; Advantage is a better soldier, than rashness. Tell him, we could have rebuked 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 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 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 betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is pronounced. So far my king and master; so much my office.

K. Hen. What is thy name? I know thy quality. Mont. Montjoy.

K. Hen. 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 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,

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 bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, 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 his fire's out.

K. Hen. 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 uppraided, or abused in disdainful language; For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner. Tucket sounds. Enter MONTJOY.

Mont. You know me by my habit.t
K. Hen. Well then, I know thee; What

shall I know of thee?

Mont. My master's mind.
K. Hen. Unfold it.

Mont. Thus says my king:-Say thou to Harry of England, Though we seemed dead, • An intrenchment hastily thrown up.

I. e. By his herald's coat,

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 MONTJOY.
Glo. I hope, they will not come upon us

now.

K. Hen. We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs. [night:March to the bridge; it now draws toward 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 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.

Dau. What a long night is this! I will not change my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns, Ca ha! He 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 fire; and the duil elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness, while his rider mounts him: he is, indeed, a horse; 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: Wonder of nature,

Orl. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.

Dau. Then did they imitate that which I composed to my courser; for my horse is my

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 like a Kernet of Ireland, your French hose off, and in your strait trossers.‡

Con. You have good judgement in horsemanship.

Dau. Be warned 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 retourne à son propre vomissement, et la truie lavée au bourbier: thou makest use of any thing.

Con. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress; or any such proverb, so little kin to the

hope.

Con. And yet my sky shall not want.

Dau. That may be, for you bear a 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! 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 faced 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 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.

Can. 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 cared 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 saw it, but his lackey: '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 placed; 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.

Mess. My lord high constable, the English lie within fifteen hundred paces of your tent. Con. Who hath measured the ground? Mess. The lord Grandpré.

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.

* An equivoque in terms in falconry: he means, h valour is hid from every body but his lackey, and when appears it will fall off.