Part 2 out of 3
Dolph. What a long Night is this? I will not change
my Horse with any that treades but on foure postures:
ch' ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were
hayres: le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de
feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots
the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest
horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of
Orleance. Hee's of the colour of the Nutmeg
Dolph. And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beast
for Perseus: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Elements
of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but only
in patient stillnesse while his Rider mounts him: hee
is indeede a Horse, and all other Iades you may call
Const. Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellent
Dolph. It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like
the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces
Orleance. No more Cousin
Dolph. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from
the rising of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe,
varie deserued prayse on my Palfray: it is a Theame as
fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues,
and my Horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subiect
for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne
to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs,
and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions,
and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse,
and began thus, Wonder of Nature
Orleance. I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Mistresse
Dolph. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd
to my Courser, for my Horse is my Mistresse
Orleance. Your Mistresse beares well
Dolph. Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfection
of a good and particular Mistresse
Const. Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresse
shrewdly shooke your back
Dolph. So perhaps did yours
Const. Mine was not bridled
Dolph. O then belike she was old and gentle, and you
rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in
your strait Strossers
Const. You haue good iudgement in Horsemanship
Dolph. Be warn'd by me then: they that ride so, and
ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue
my Horse to my Mistresse
Const. I had as liue haue my Mistresse a Iade
Dolph. I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares his
Const. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a
Sow to my Mistresse
Dolph. Le chien est retourne a son propre vemissement est
la leuye lauee au bourbier: thou mak'st vse of any thing
Const. Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,
or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purpose
Ramb. My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw in
your Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?
Const. Starres my Lord
Dolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope
Const. And yet my Sky shall not want
Dolph. That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,
and 'twere more honor some were away
Const. Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, who
would trot as well, were some of your bragges dismounted
Dolph. Would I were able to loade him with his desert.
Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile,
and my way shall be paued with English Faces
Const. I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out
of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would
faine be about the eares of the English
Ramb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentie
Const. You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere you
Dolph. 'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.
Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morning
Ramb. He longs to eate the English
Const. I thinke he will eate all he kills
Orleance. By the white Hand of my Lady, hee's a gallant
Const. Sweare by her Foot, that she may tread out the
Orleance. He is simply the most actiue Gentleman of
Const. Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doing
Orleance. He neuer did harme, that I heard of
Const. Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe
that good name still
Orleance. I know him to be valiant
Const. I was told that, by one that knowes him better
Orleance. What's hee?
Const. Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd hee
car'd not who knew it
Orleance. Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue in
Const. By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw
it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it
appeares, it will bate
Orleance. Ill will neuer sayd well
Const. I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatterie
Orleance. And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuill
Const. Well plac't: there stands your friend for the
Deuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, A
Pox of the Deuill
Orleance. You are the better at Prouerbs, by how much
a Fooles Bolt is soone shot
Const. You haue shot ouer
Orleance. 'Tis not the first time you were ouer-shot.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My Lord high Constable, the English lye within
fifteene hundred paces of your Tents
Const. Who hath measur'd the ground?
Mess. The Lord Grandpree
Const. A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would
it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs
not for the Dawning, as wee doe
Orleance. What a wretched and peeuish fellow is this
King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers
so farre out of his knowledge
Const. If the English had any apprehension, they
would runne away
Orleance. That they lack: for if their heads had any intellectuall
Armour, they could neuer weare such heauie
Ramb. That Iland of England breedes very valiant
Creatures; their Mastiffes are of vnmatchable courage
Orleance. Foolish Curres, that runne winking into
the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht
like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that's a valiant
Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a
Const. Iust, iust: and the men doe sympathize with
the Mastiffes, in robustious and rough comming on,
leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then giue
them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele; they
will eate like Wolues, and fight like Deuils
Orleance. I, but these English are shrowdly out of
Const. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only
stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to
arme: come, shall we about it?
Orleance. It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten
Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.
Now entertaine coniecture of a time,
When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke
Fills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse.
From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night
The Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds;
That the fixt Centinels almost receiue
The secret Whispers of each others Watch.
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.
Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull Neighs
Piercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents,
The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,
With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp,
Giue dreadfull note of preparation.
The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle:
And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd,
Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule,
The confident and ouer-lustie French,
Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;
And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night,
Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpe
So tediously away. The poore condemned English,
Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull Fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The Mornings danger: and their gesture sad,
Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,
Presented them vnto the gazing Moone
So many horride Ghosts. O now, who will behold
The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band
Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;
Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head:
For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast,
Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle,
And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.
Vpon his Royall Face there is no note,
How dread an Army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour
Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night:
But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,
With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie:
That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.
A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne,
His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,
Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle all
Behold, as may vnworthinesse define.
A little touch of Harry in the Night,
And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye:
Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,
With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles,
(Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)
The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see,
Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.
Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.
King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,
The greater therefore should our Courage be.
God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie,
There is some soule of goodnesse in things euill,
Would men obseruingly distill it out.
For our bad Neighbour makes vs early stirrers,
Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry.
Besides, they are our outward Consciences,
And Preachers to vs all; admonishing,
That we should dresse vs fairely for our end.
Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
And make a Morall of the Diuell himselfe.
Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good soft Pillow for that good white Head,
Were better then a churlish turfe of France
Erping. Not so my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,
Since I may say, now lye I like a King
King. 'Tis good for men to loue their present paines,
Vpon example, so the Spirit is eased:
And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt
The Organs, though defunct and dead before,
Breake vp their drowsie Graue, and newly moue
With casted slough, and fresh legeritie.
Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our Campe;
Doe my good morrow to them, and anon
Desire them all to my Pauillion
Gloster. We shall, my Liege
Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
King. No, my good Knight:
Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:
I and my Bosome must debate a while,
And then I would no other company
Erping. The Lord in Heauen blesse thee, Noble
King. God a mercy old Heart, thou speak'st chearefully.
Pist. Che vous la?
King. A friend
Pist. Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thou
base, common, and popular?
King. I am a Gentleman of a Company
Pist. Trayl'st thou the puissant Pyke?
King. Euen so: what are you?
Pist. As good a Gentleman as the Emperor
King. Then you are a better then the King
Pist. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a
Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fist
most valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heartstring
I loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?
King. Harry le Roy
Pist. Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?
King. No, I am a Welchman
Pist. Know'st thou Fluellen?
Pist. Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vpon
S[aint]. Dauies day
King. Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappe
that day, least he knock that about yours
Pist. Art thou his friend?
King. And his Kinsman too
Pist. The Figo for thee then
King. I thanke you: God be with you
Pist. My name is Pistol call'd.
King. It sorts well with your fiercenesse.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Gower. Captaine Fluellen
Flu. 'So, in the Name of Iesu Christ, speake fewer: it
is the greatest admiration in the vniuersall World, when
the true and aunchient Prerogatifes and Lawes of the
Warres is not kept: if you would take the paines but to
examine the Warres of Pompey the Great, you shall finde,
I warrant you, that there is no tiddle tadle nor pibble bable
in Pompeyes Campe: I warrant you, you shall finde
the Ceremonies of the Warres, and the Cares of it, and
the Formes of it, and the Sobrietie of it, and the Modestie
of it, to be otherwise
Gower. Why the Enemie is lowd, you heare him all
Flu. If the Enemie is an Asse and a Foole, and a prating
Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should
also, looke you, be an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe,
in your owne conscience now?
Gow. I will speake lower
Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.
King. Though it appeare a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this Welchman.
Enter three Souldiers, Iohn Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael
Court. Brother Iohn Bates, is not that the Morning
which breakes yonder?
Bates. I thinke it be: but wee haue no great cause to
desire the approach of day
Williams. Wee see yonder the beginning of the day,
but I thinke wee shall neuer see the end of it. Who goes
King. A Friend
Williams. Vnder what Captaine serue you?
King. Vnder Sir Iohn Erpingham
Williams. A good old Commander, and a most kinde
Gentleman: I pray you, what thinkes he of our estate?
King. Euen as men wrackt vpon a Sand, that looke to
be washt off the next Tyde
Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King?
King. No: nor it is not meet he should: for though I
speake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am:
the Violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the Element
shewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but
humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Nakednesse
he appeares but a man; and though his affections
are higher mounted then ours, yet when they stoupe,
they stoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he sees
reason of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of
the same rellish as ours are: yet in reason, no man should
possesse him with any appearance of feare; least hee, by
shewing it, should dis-hearten his Army
Bates. He may shew what outward courage he will:
but I beleeue, as cold a Night as 'tis, hee could wish himselfe
in Thames vp to the Neck; and so I would he were,
and I by him, at all aduentures, so we were quit here
King. By my troth, I will speake my conscience of the
King: I thinke hee would not wish himselfe any where,
but where hee is
Bates. Then I would he were here alone; so should he be
sure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues saued
King. I dare say, you loue him not so ill, to wish him
here alone: howsoeuer you speake this to feele other
mens minds, me thinks I could not dye any where so contented,
as in the Kings company; his Cause being iust, and
his Quarrell honorable
Williams. That's more then we know
Bates. I, or more then wee should seeke after; for wee
know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subiects:
if his Cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes
the Cryme of it out of vs
Williams. But if the Cause be not good, the King himselfe
hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all those
Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile,
shall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all, Wee dyed
at such a place, some swearing, some crying for a Surgean;
some vpon their Wiues, left poore behind them;
some vpon the Debts they owe, some vpon their Children
rawly left: I am afear'd, there are few dye well, that dye
in a Battaile: for how can they charitably dispose of any
thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if these men
doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King,
that led them to it; who to disobey, were against all proportion
King. So, if a Sonne that is by his Father sent about
Merchandize, doe sinfully miscarry vpon the Sea; the imputation
of his wickednesse, by your rule, should be imposed
vpon his Father that sent him: or if a Seruant, vnder
his Masters command, transporting a summe of Money,
be assayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil'd
Iniquities; you may call the businesse of the Master the
author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not so:
The King is not bound to answer the particular endings
of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Master
of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when
they purpose their seruices. Besides, there is no King, be
his Cause neuer so spotlesse, if it come to the arbitrement
of Swords, can trye it out with all vnspotted Souldiers:
some (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of
premeditated and contriued Murther; some, of beguiling
Virgins with the broken Seales of Periurie; some,
making the Warres their Bulwarke, that haue before gored
the gentle Bosome of Peace with Pillage and Robberie.
Now, if these men haue defeated the Law, and outrunne
Natiue punishment; though they can out-strip
men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is
his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: so that here men
are punisht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in
now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death,
they haue borne life away; and where they would bee
safe, they perish. Then if they dye vnprouided, no more
is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was before
guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are
now visited. Euery Subiects Dutie is the Kings, but
euery Subiects Soule is his owne. Therefore should
euery Souldier in the Warres doe as euery sicke man in
his Bed, wash euery Moth out of his Conscience: and
dying so, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying,
the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was
gayned: and in him that escapes, it were not sinne to
thinke, that making God so free an offer, he let him outliue
that day, to see his Greatnesse, and to teach others
how they should prepare
Will. 'Tis certaine, euery man that dyes ill, the ill vpon
his owne head, the King is not to answer it
Bates. I doe not desire hee should answer for me, and
yet I determine to fight lustily for him
King. I my selfe heard the King say he would not be
Will. I, hee said so, to make vs fight chearefully: but
when our throats are cut, hee may be ransom'd, and wee
ne're the wiser
King. If I liue to see it, I will neuer trust his word after
Will. You pay him then: that's a perillous shot out
of an Elder Gunne, that a poore and a priuate displeasure
can doe against a Monarch: you may as well goe about
to turne the Sunne to yce, with fanning in his face with a
Peacocks feather: You'le neuer trust his word after;
come, 'tis a foolish saying
King. Your reproofe is something too round, I should
be angry with you, if the time were conuenient
Will. Let it bee a Quarrell betweene vs, if you
King. I embrace it
Will. How shall I know thee againe?
King. Giue me any Gage of thine, and I will weare it
in my Bonnet: Then if euer thou dar'st acknowledge it,
I will make it my Quarrell
Will. Heere's my Gloue: Giue mee another of
Will. This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou
come to me, and say, after to morrow, This is my Gloue,
by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eare
King. If euer I liue to see it, I will challenge it
Will. Thou dar'st as well be hang'd
King. Well, I will doe it, though I take thee in the
Will. Keepe thy word: fare thee well
Bates. Be friends you English fooles, be friends, wee
haue French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.
King. Indeede the French may lay twentie French
Crownes to one, they will beat vs, for they beare them
on their shoulders: but it is no English Treason to cut
French Crownes, and to morrow the King himselfe will
be a Clipper.
Vpon the King, let vs our Liues, our Soules,
Our Debts, our carefull Wiues,
Our Children, and our Sinnes, lay on the King:
We must beare all.
O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatnesse,
Subiect to the breath of euery foole, whose sence
No more can feele, but his owne wringing.
What infinite hearts-ease must Kings neglect,
That priuate men enioy?
And what haue Kings, that Priuates haue not too,
Saue Ceremonie, saue generall Ceremonie?
And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?
What kind of God art thou? that suffer'st more
Of mortall griefes, then doe thy worshippers.
What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?
O Ceremonie, shew me but thy worth.
What? is thy Soule of Odoration?
Art thou ought else but Place, Degree, and Forme,
Creating awe and feare in other men?
Wherein thou art lesse happy, being fear'd,
Then they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, in stead of Homage sweet,
But poyson'd flatterie? O, be sick, great Greatnesse,
And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.
Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe out
With Titles blowne from Adulation?
Will it giue place to flexure and low bending?
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggers knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,
That play'st so subtilly with a Kings Repose.
I am a King that find thee: and I know,
'Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,
The Sword, the Mase, the Crowne Imperiall,
The enter-tissued Robe of Gold and Pearle,
The farsed Title running 'fore the King,
The Throne he sits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,
That beates vpon the high shore of this World:
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;
Not all these, lay'd in Bed Maiesticall,
Can sleepe so soundly, as the wretched Slaue:
Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
Gets him to rest, cram'd with distressefull bread,
Neuer sees horride Night, the Child of Hell:
But like a Lacquey, from the Rise to Set,
Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all Night
Sleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,
Doth rise and helpe Hiperio[n] to his Horse,
And followes so the euer-running yeere
With profitable labour to his Graue:
And but for Ceremonie, such a Wretch,
Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with sleepe,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.
The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,
Enioyes it; but in grosse braine little wots,
What watch the King keepes, to maintaine the peace;
Whose howres, the Pesant best aduantages.
Erp. My Lord, your Nobles iealous of your absence,
Seeke through your Campe to find you
King. Good old Knight, collect them all together
At my Tent: Ile be before thee
Erp. I shall doo't, my Lord.
King. O God of Battailes, steele my Souldiers hearts,
Possesse them not with feare: Take from them now
The sence of reckning of th' opposed numbers:
Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,
O not to day, thinke not vpon the fault
My Father made, in compassing the Crowne.
I Richards body haue interred new,
And on it haue bestowed more contrite teares,
Then from it issued forced drops of blood.
Fiue hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,
Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold vp
Toward Heauen, to pardon blood:
And I haue built two Chauntries,
Where the sad and solemne Priests sing still
For Richards Soule. More will I doe:
Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;
Since that my Penitence comes after all,
Glouc. My Liege
King. My Brother Gloucesters voyce? I:
I know thy errand, I will goe with thee:
The day, my friend, and all things stay for me.
Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs, and Beaumont.
Orleance. The Sunne doth gild our Armour vp, my
Dolph. Monte Cheual: My Horse, Verlot Lacquay:
Orleance. Oh braue Spirit
Dolph. Via les ewes & terre
Orleance. Rien puis le air & feu
Dolph. Cein, Cousin Orleance.
Now my Lord Constable?
Const. Hearke how our Steedes, for present Seruice
Dolph. Mount them, and make incision in their Hides,
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
And doubt them with superfluous courage: ha
Ram. What, wil you haue them weep our Horses blood?
How shall we then behold their naturall teares?
Messeng. The English are embattail'd, you French
Const. To Horse you gallant Princes, straight to Horse.
Doe but behold yond poore and starued Band,
And your faire shew shall suck away their Soules,
Leauing them but the shales and huskes of men.
There is not worke enough for all our hands,
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly Veines,
To giue each naked Curtleax a stayne,
That our French Gallants shall to day draw out,
And sheath for lack of sport. Let vs but blow on them,
The vapour of our Valour will o're-turne them.
'Tis positiue against all exceptions, Lords,
That our superfluous Lacquies, and our Pesants,
Who in vnnecessarie action swarme
About our Squares of Battaile, were enow
To purge this field of such a hilding Foe;
Though we vpon this Mountaines Basis by,
Tooke stand for idle speculation:
But that our Honours must not. What's to say?
A very little little let vs doe,
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 downe in feare, and yeeld.
Grandpree. Why do you stay so long, my Lords of France?
Yond Iland Carrions, desperate of their bones,
Ill-fauoredly become the Morning field:
Their ragged Curtaines poorely are let loose,
And our Ayre shakes them passing scornefully.
Bigge Mars seemes banqu'rout in their begger'd Hoast,
And faintly through a rustie Beuer peepes.
The Horsemen sit like fixed Candlesticks,
With Torch-staues in their hand: and their poore Iades
Lob downe their heads, dropping the hides and hips:
The gumme downe roping from their pale-dead eyes,
And in their pale dull mouthes the Iymold Bitt
Lyes foule with chaw'd-grasse, still and motionlesse.
And their executors, the knauish Crowes,
Flye o're them all, impatient for their howre.
Description cannot sute it selfe in words,
To demonstrate the Life of such a Battaile,
In life so liuelesse, as it shewes it selfe
Const. They haue said their prayers,
And they stay for death
Dolph. Shall we goe send them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,
And giue their fasting Horses Prouender,
And after fight with them?
Const. I stay but for my Guard: on
To the field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,
And vse it for my haste. Come, come away,
The Sunne is high, and we out-weare the day.
Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his Hoast:
Salisbury, and Westmerland.
Glouc. Where is the King?
Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their Battaile
West. Of fighting men they haue full threescore thousand
Exe. There's fiue to one, besides they all are fresh
Salisb. Gods Arme strike with vs, 'tis a fearefull oddes.
God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:
If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;
Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,
My deare Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind Kinsman, Warriors all, adieu
Bedf. Farwell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee:
And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valour
Exe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to day
Bedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindnesse,
Princely in both.
Enter the King.
West. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That doe no worke to day
King. What's he that wishes so?
My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:
If we are markt to dye, we are enow
To doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,
Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:
It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,
I am the most offending Soule aliue.
No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:
Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,
As one man more me thinkes would share from me,
For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:
Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,
That he which hath no stomack to this fight,
Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,
And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:
We would not dye in that mans companie,
That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.
This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:
He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and liue old age,
Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.
Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:
But hee'le remember, with aduantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his sonne:
And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
From this day to the ending of the World,
But we in it shall be remembred;
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're so vile,
This day shall gentle his Condition.
And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;
And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.
Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:
The French are brauely in their battailes set,
And will with all expedience charge on vs
King. All things are ready, if our minds be so
West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now
King. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,
West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,
Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile
King. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:
Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.
You know your places: God be with you all.
Tucket. Enter Montioy.
Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,
If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:
For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind
Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre
From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies
Must lye and fester
King. Who hath sent thee now?
Mont. The Constable of France
King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust
Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.
And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,
They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,
And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,
The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.
Marke then abounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,
Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,
Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,
We are but Warriors for the working day:
Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht
With raynie Marching in the painefull field.
There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:
Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:
And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.
But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck
The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,
As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then
Will soone be leuyed.
Herauld, saue thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:
Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,
Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable
Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.
King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a
Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge
The leading of the Vaward
King. Take it, braue Yorke.
Now Souldiers march away,
And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.
Pist. Yeeld Curre
French. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee
Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?
What is thy Name? discusse
French. O Seigneur Dieu
Pist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend
my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur
Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur
thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome
French. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy
Pist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for
I will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of
French. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras
Pist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine
Goat, offer'st me Brasse?
French. O perdonne moy
Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?
Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is his
Boy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle?
French. Mounsieur le Fer
Boy. He sayes his Name is M. Fer
Pist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:
discusse the same in French vnto him
Boy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, and
Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat
French. Que dit il Mounsieur?
Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous
prest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre
Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse
thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt
thou be by this my Sword
French. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner,
Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie
vous donneray deux cent escus
Pist. What are his words?
Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentleman
of a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you two
Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crownes
Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?
Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucune
prisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets,
il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisement
Fre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, et
Ie me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn Cheualier
Ie pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieur
Pist. Expound vnto me boy
Boy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks,
and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into
the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous
and thrice-worthy signeur of England
Pist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow
Boy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine?
I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a
heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the
greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more
valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie
one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and
they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst
steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the
Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might
haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none
to guard it but boyes.
Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures.
Con. O Diable
Orl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdie
Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,
Reproach, and euerlasting shame
Sits mocking in our Plumes.
A short Alarum.
O meschante Fortune, do not runne away
Con. Why all our rankes are broke
Dol. O perdurable shame, let's stab our selues:
Be these the wretches that we plaid at dice for?
Orl. Is this the King we sent too, for his ransome?
Bur. Shame, and eternall shame, nothing but shame,
Let vs dye in once more backe againe,
And he that will not follow Burbon now,
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand
Like a base Pander hold the Chamber doore,
Whilst a base slaue, no gentler then my dogge,
His fairest daughter is contaminated
Con. Disorder that hath spoyl'd vs, friend vs now,
Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liues
Orl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field,
To smother vp the English in our throngs,
If any order might be thought vpon
Bur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng;
Let life be short, else shame will be too long.
Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.
King. Well haue we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen,
But all's not done, yet keepe the French the field
Exe. The D[uke]. of York commends him to your Maiesty
King. Liues he good Vnckle: thrice within this houre
I saw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting,
From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he was
Exe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye,
Larding the plaine: and by his bloody side,
(Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds)
The Noble Earle of Suffolke also lyes.
Suffolke first dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouer
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
And takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawne vpon his face.
He cryes aloud; Tarry my Cosin Suffolke,
My soule shall thine keepe company to heauen:
Tarry (sweet soule) for mine, then flye a-brest:
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our Chiualrie.
Vpon these words I came, and cheer'd him vp,
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And with a feeble gripe, sayes: Deere my Lord,
Commend my seruice to my Soueraigne,
So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes necke
He threw his wounded arme, and kist his lippes,
And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A Testament of Noble-ending-loue:
The prettie and sweet manner of it forc'd
Those waters from me, which I would haue stop'd,
But I had not so much of man in mee,
And all my mother came into mine eyes,
And gaue me vp to teares
King. I blame you not,
For hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mixtfull eyes, or they will issue to.
But hearke, what new alarum is this same?
The French haue re-enforc'd their scatter'd men:
Then euery souldiour kill his Prisoners,
Giue the word through.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely
against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery
marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience
now, is it not?
Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the
Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done
this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away
all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King
most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners
throat. O 'tis a gallant King
Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:
What call you the Townes name where Alexander the
pig was borne?
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, saue the phrase is a litle variations
Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in
Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I
Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is
porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of
the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene
Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke
you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there
is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at
Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name
of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers
is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you
marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is
come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all
things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his
rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and
his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations,
and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in
his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend
Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd
any of his friends
Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the
tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak
but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander
kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so
also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his
good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the
great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and
knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name
Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne
Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.
Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.
King. I was not angry since I came to France,
Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,
Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:
If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,
Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.
If they'l do neither, we will come to them,
And make them sker away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,
And not a man of them that we shall take,
Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege
Glou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be
King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowst
That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?
Com'st thou againe for ransome?
Her. No great King:
I come to thee for charitable License,
That we may wander ore this bloody field,
To booke our dead, and then to bury them,
To sort our Nobles from our common men.
For many of our Princes (woe the while)
Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbes
In blood of Princes, and with wounded steeds
Fret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage
Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue 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 horsemen peere,
And gallop ore the field
Her. The day is yours
Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:
What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by
Her. They call it Agincourt
King. 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 Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke
Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought
a most praue pattle here in France
Kin. They did Fluellen
Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties
is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a
Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their
Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre
is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue
your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon
S[aint]. Tauies day
King. I weare it for a memorable honor:
For I am Welch you know good Countriman
Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your Maiesties
Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:
God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases his
Grace, and his Maiesty too
Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen
Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I
care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I
need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God
so long as your Maiesty is an honest man
King. Good keepe me so.
Our Heralds go with him,
Bring me iust notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither
Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King
Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thy
Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of one
that I should fight withall, if he be aliue
Kin. An Englishman?
Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd
with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to
challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe
a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he
swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil
strike it out soundly
Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this
souldier keepe his oath
Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't please
your Maiesty in my conscience
King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of great
sort quite from the answer of his degree
Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is,
as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke
your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee
bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a
villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd
vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law
King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st
Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue
King. Who seru'st thou vnder?
Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege
Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge
and literatured in the Warres
King. Call him hither to me, Souldier
Will. I will my Liege.
King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and
sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were
downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If
any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an
enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend
him, and thou do'st me loue
Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be
desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see
the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe
agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see
it once, and please God of his grace that I might see
King. Know'st thou Gower?
Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you
King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to my
Flu. I will fetch him.
King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,
Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.
The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,
May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.
It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should
Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:
If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudge
By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;
Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:
For I doe know Fluellen valiant,
And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,
And quickly will returne an iniurie.
Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.
Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.
Enter Gower and Williams.
Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.
Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech
you now, come apace to the King: there is more good
toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to
Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?
Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue
Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.
Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuersall
World, or in France, or in England
Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine
Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?
Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treason
his payment into plowes, I warrant you
Will. I am no Traytor
Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his
Maiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke
Enter Warwick and Gloucester.
Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter?
Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God
for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke
you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his
Enter King and Exeter.
King. How now, what's the matter?
Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,
that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue which
your Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson
Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow
of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare
it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met
this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as
good as my word
Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties
Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie
Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie
and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue
of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience
King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;
Looke, heere is the fellow of it:
'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,
And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes
Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answere
for it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World
King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?
Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuer
came any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie
King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse
Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you
appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the
Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what
your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you
take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you
beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I
beseech your Highnesse pardon me
King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,
And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,
And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,
Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:
And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him
Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell
enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for
you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of
prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I
warrant you it is the better for you
Will. I will none of your Money
Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue
you to mend your shooes: come, wherefore should you
be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: 'tis a good
silling I warrant you, or I will change it.
King. Now Herauld, are the dead numbred?
Herald. Heere is the number of the slaught'red
King. What Prisoners of good sort are taken,
Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King,
Iohn Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchiquald:
Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires,
Full fifteene hundred, besides common men
King. This Note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number,
And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye dead
One hundred twentie six: added to these,
Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen,
Eight thousand and foure hundred: of the which,
Fiue hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights.
So that in these ten thousand they haue lost,
There are but sixteene hundred Mercenaries:
The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,
And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie.
The Names of those their Nobles that lye dead:
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
Iaques of Chatilion, Admirall of France,
The Master of the Crosse-bowes, Lord Rambures,
Great Master of France, the braue Sir Guichard Dolphin,
Iohn Duke of Alanson, Anthonie Duke of Brabant,
The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie,
And Edward Duke of Barr: of lustie Earles,
Grandpree and Roussie, Fauconbridge and Foyes,
Beaumont and Marle, Vandemont and Lestrale.
Here was a Royall fellowship of death.
Where is the number of our English dead?
Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke,
Sir Richard Ketly, Dauy Gam Esquire;
None else of name: and of all other men,
But fiue and twentie.
O God, thy Arme was heere:
And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone,
Ascribe we all: when, without stratagem,
But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile,
Was euer knowne so great and little losse?
On one part and on th' other, take it God,
For it is none but thine
Exet. 'Tis wonderfull
King. Come, goe we in procession to the Village:
And be it death proclaymed through our Hoast,
To boast of this, or take that prayse from God,
Which is his onely
Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maiestie, to tell
how many is kill'd?
King. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowledgement,
That God fought for vs
Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did vs great good
King. Doe we all holy Rights:
Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum,
The dead with charitie enclos'd in Clay:
And then to Callice, and to England then,
Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.
Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story,
That I may prompt them: and of such as haue,
I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life,
Be here presented. Now we beare the King
Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene,
Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts,
Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach
Pales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes,
Whose shouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea,
Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King,
Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen now
You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath:
Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borne
His bruised Helmet, and his bended Sword
Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it,
Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride;
Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent,
Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold,
In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought,
How London doth powre out her Citizens,
The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort,
Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome,
With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles,
Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Cæsar in:
As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood,
Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse,
As in good time he may, from Ireland comming,
Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword;
How many would the peacefull Citie quit,
To welcome him? much more, and much more cause,
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
As yet the lamentation of the French
Inuites the King of Englands stay at home:
The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France,
To order peace betweene them: and omit
All the occurrences, what euer chanc't,
Till Harryes backe returne againe to France:
There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'd
The interim, by remembring you 'tis past.
Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance,
After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your
Leeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past
Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore
in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine
Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging
Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World,
know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no
merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and
sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke:
it was in a place where I could not breed no contention
with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap
till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little
piece of my desires.
Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock
Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks.
God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsie
Knaue, God plesse you
Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, base
Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence;
I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke
Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at
my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate,
looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not
loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your
disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you
to eate it
Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats
Flu. There is one Goat for you.
Will you be so good, scauld Knaue, as eate it?
Pist. Base Troian, thou shalt dye
Flu. You say very true, scauld Knaue, when Gods
will is: I will desire you to liue in the meane time, and
eate your Victuals: come, there is sawce for it. You
call'd me yesterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make
you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if
you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke
Gour. Enough Captaine, you haue astonisht him
Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke,
or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is
good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxecombe
Pist. Must I bite
Flu. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of question
too, and ambiguities
Pist. By this Leeke, I will most horribly reuenge I
eate and eate I sweare
Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauce
to your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sweare by
Pist. Quiet thy Cudgell, thou dost see I eate
Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay,
pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your
broken Coxcombe; when you take occasions to see
Leekes heereafter, I pray you mocke at 'em, that is all
Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat to
heale your pate
Pist. Me a groat?
Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haue
another Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate
Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of reuenge
Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels,
you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of
me but cudgels: God bu'y you, and keepe you, & heale
Pist. All hell shall stirre for this
Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue,
will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vppon an
honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Trophee
of predeceased valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds
any of your words. I haue seene you gleeking & galling
at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because
he could not speake English in the natiue garb, he could
not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it otherwise,
and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach
you a good English condition, fare ye well.
Pist. Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now?
Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i'th Spittle of a malady
of France, and there my rendeuous is quite cut off:
Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is
Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to
Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and
there Ile steale:
And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres,
And swore I got them in the Gallia warres.
Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke, and
Lords. At another, Queene Isabel, the King, the Duke of
King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met;
Vnto our brother France, and to our Sister
Health and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishes
To our most faire and Princely Cosine Katherine:
And as a branch and member of this Royalty,
By whom this great assembly is contriu'd,
We do salute you Duke of Burgogne,
And Princes French and Peeres health to you all
Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England, fairely met,
So are you Princes (English) euery one
Quee. So happy be the Issue brother Ireland
Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,
As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
Your eyes which hitherto haue borne
In them against the French that met them in their bent,
The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes:
The venome of such Lookes we fairely hope
Haue lost their qualitie, and that this day
Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue
Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare
Quee. You English Princes all, I doe salute you
Burg. My dutie to you both, on equall loue.
Great Kings of France and England: that I haue labour'd
With all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuors,
To bring your most Imperiall Maiesties
Vnto this Barre, and Royall enterview;
Your Mightinesse on both parts best can witnesse.
Since then my Office hath so farre preuayl'd,
That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye,
You haue congreeted: let it not disgrace me,
If I demand before this Royall view,
What Rub, or what Impediment there is,
Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace,
Deare Nourse of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births,
Should not in this best Garden of the World,
Our fertile France, put vp her louely Visage?
Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas'd,
And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes,
Corrupting in it owne fertilitie.
Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd,
Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre,
Put forth disorder'd Twigs: her fallow Leas,
The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary,
Doth root vpon; while that the Culter rusts,
That should deracinate such Sauagery:
The euen Meade, that erst brought sweetly forth
The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and greene Clouer,
Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke;
Conceiues by idlenesse, and nothing teemes,
But hatefull Docks, rough Thistles, Keksyes, Burres,
Loosing both beautie and vtilitie;
And all our Vineyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges,
Defectiue in their natures, grow to wildnesse.
Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children,
Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time,
The Sciences that should become our Countrey;
But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,
That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,
To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus'd Attyre,
And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall.
Which to reduce into our former fauour,
You are assembled: and my speech entreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace
Should not expell these inconueniences,
And blesse vs with her former qualities
Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,
Whose want giues growth to th' imperfections
Which you haue cited; you must buy that Peace
With full accord to all our iust demands,
Whose Tenures and particular effects
You haue enschedul'd briefely in your hands
Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as yet
There is no Answer made
Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before so vrg'd,
Lyes in his Answer
France. I haue but with a curselarie eye
O're-glanc't the Articles: Pleaseth your Grace
To appoint some of your Councell presently
To sit with vs once more, with better heed
To re-suruey them; we will suddenly
Passe our accept and peremptorie Answer
England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter,
And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Gloucester,
Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King,
And take with you free power, to ratifie,
Augment, or alter, as your Wisdomes best
Shall see aduantageable for our Dignitie,
Any thing in or out of our Demands,
And wee'le consigne thereto. Will you, faire Sister,
Goe with the Princes, or stay here with vs?
Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them:
Happily a Womans Voyce may doe some good,
When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be stood on
England. Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs,
She is our capitall Demand, compris'd
Within the fore-ranke of our Articles
Quee. She hath good leaue.
Manet King and Katherine
King. Faire Katherine, and most faire,
Will you vouchsafe to teach a Souldier tearmes,
Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare,
And pleade his Loue-suit to her gentle heart
Kath. Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speake
King. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me soundly
with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you confesse
it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you
like me, Kate?
Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me
King. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an
Kath. Que dit il que Ie suis semblable a les Anges?
Lady. Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit il
King. I said so, deare Katherine, and I must not blush
to affirme it
Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein de
King. What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues of
men are full of deceits?
Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits:
dat is de Princesse
King. The Princesse is the better English-woman:
yfaith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderstanding, I am
glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou
could'st, thou would'st finde me such a plaine King, that
thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my
Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly
to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther,
then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue
me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine:
how say you, Lady?
Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well
King. Marry, if you would put me to Verses, or to
Dance for your sake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one
I haue neither words nor measure; and for the other, I
haue no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in
strength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape-frogge, or by
vawting into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe;
vnder the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should
quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my
Loue, or bound my Horse for her fauours, I could lay on
like a Butcher, and sit like a Iack an Apes, neuer off. But
before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaspe out
my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in protestation;
onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vse till vrg'd,
nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canst loue a fellow
of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-burning?
that neuer lookes in his Glasse, for loue of any
thing he sees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I speake
to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canst loue me for this,
take me? if not? to say to thee that I shall dye, is true; but
for thy loue, by the L[ord]. No: yet I loue thee too. And
while thou liu'st, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and
vncoyned Constancie, for he perforce must do thee right,
because he hath not the gift to wooe in other places: for
these fellowes of infinit tongue, that can ryme themselues
into Ladyes fauours, they doe alwayes reason themselues
out againe. What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is
but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will
stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will
grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax
hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the
Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it
shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course
truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and
take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King.
And what say'st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire,
and fairely, I pray thee
Kath. Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of
King. No, it is not possible you should loue the Enemie
of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue
the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I
will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine:
and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours
is France, and you are mine
Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat
King. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am
sure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife
about her Husbands Necke, hardly to be shooke off; Ie
quand sur le possession de Fraunce, & quand vous aues le
de moy. (Let mee see, what then? Saint Dennis bee
my speede) Donc vostre est Fraunce, & vous estes mienne.
It is as easie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to
speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in
French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me
Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, le Francois ques vous parleis, il
& melieus que l' Anglois le quel Ie parle
King. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of
my Tongue, and I thine, most truely falsely, must
needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, doo'st
thou vnderstand thus much English? Canst thou loue
Kath. I cannot tell
King. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile
aske them. Come, I know thou louest me: and at night,
when you come into your Closet, you'le question this
Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
her disprayse those parts in me, that you loue with your
heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather
gentle Princesse, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou
beest mine, Kate, as I haue a sauing Faith within me tells
me thou shalt; I get thee with skambling, and thou
must therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder:
Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint
George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English,
that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by
the Beard. Shall wee not? what say'st thou, my faire
Kate. I doe not know dat
King. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise:
doe but now promise Kate, you will endeauour for your
French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie,
take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How answer
you. La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trescher & deuin
Kath. Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to
deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce
King. Now fye vpon my false French: by mine Honor
in true English, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare
not sweare thou louest me, yet my blood begins to flatter
me, that thou doo'st; notwithstanding the poore and
vntempering effect of my Visage. Now beshrew my
Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres
when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne
out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come
to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder
I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that
Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more
spoyle vpon my Face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at
the worst; and thou shalt weare me, if thou weare me,
better and better: and therefore tell me, most faire Katherine,
will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blushes,
auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of
an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of
England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner
blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England
is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry
Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his
Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt
finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer
in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and
thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine,
breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou
Kath. Dat is as it shall please de Roy mon pere
King. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please
Kath. Den it sall also content me
King. Vpon that I kisse your Hand, and I call you my
Kath. Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne
veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le
main d' une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse moy. Ie
vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur