Imatges de pàgina
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Jamy. Au! that's a foul fault. [A Parley sounded. Gow. The town sounds a parley. Flu. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you, I know the dis ciplines of war; and there is an end.

[Exeunt. |SCENE III.-The same.-Before the Gates of Harpieur.

The GOVERNOR and some Citizens on the
Walls; the English Forces belowe. Enter
King HENRY and his Train.

Mac. By Chrish la, tish ill done: the work ish give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and by my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it is give over: I would have blowed up the town so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. Oh! tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I peseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the diciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline; that is the point.

Jamy. It sall be very gud, gud feith, gud captains baith and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall 1, marry. Mac. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me, the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the king, and the dukes; it is no time to discourse. The town is beseeched, and the trumpet calls us to the breach; and we talk, and, by Chrish, do nothing; 'tis shame for us all so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still; it is shame, by my band: and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la.

ters;

Jamy. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine tak themselves to slumber, aile do gude service, or aile ligge i'the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and aile pay it as valorously as I may, that sall I surely do, that is the breff aud the long: Marry, I wad full fain heard some ques-Your fathers taken by the silver beards, tion 'tween you tway. And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls; Your naked infants spitted upon pikes; Whiles the mad mothers with their bowls confus'd Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation-

Mac. Of my nation? What ish my nation? ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal ? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?

Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, captain Macmorris, peradventure, I shall think you do not use me with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you; being as goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

• Requite, answer.

Mac. I do not know you so good a man as mys If: so Chrish save ime, I will cut off your head.

Gow. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.

K. Hen. How yet resolves the governor of

the town?

This is the latest parle we will admit:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or, like to men proud of destruction,
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
(A name that in my thoughts becomes me
best,)

If I begin the battery once again,

I will not leave the half-achieved Harßenr,
Till in her ashes she lie buried.

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up;
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of
heart,-

In liberty of bloody hand, shall range
With conscience wide as hell; mowing like

grass

Your fresh-fair virgins, and your flowering infants.

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 feil +

feats

Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are

cause,

If your pure maidens fall into the band
of hot and forcing violation?
What reign can hold licentious wickedness,
When down the hill he holds his tierce career 1
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil,
As send precepts to the Leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Har-
fleur,

Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of
grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of deadly murder, spoil, and villany.
If not, why, in a moment, look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul band
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daugh-

At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid
Or, guilty in defeuce, be thus destroy'd↑

Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated,
Returns us-that his powers are not yet ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread
king,

We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy:
Enter our gates; dispose of us, and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.

K. Hen. Open your gates.-Come, nucie
Exeter,

Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,

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Scene IV.

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-ingrow for the march are we addrest. *
[Flourish. The King, &c, enter the Town.
SCENE IV-Rouen.-A Room in the Pa-

KING HENRY V.

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

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

Kath. Et le coude?

lace.

Enter KATHARINE and ALICE.

us,

Kath. Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, et The emptying of our father's luxury,
Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
tu parles bien le language,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
Alice. Un peu madame.
Kath. Je te prie, m'enseigneuz ; il faut que And overlook their grafters ?
j'apprenne à parler. Comment appellez vous
la main, en Anglois ?

Bour. Normans, but bastard Normans, Nor-
man bastards !

Alice. La main? elle est appellée de hand.
Kath. De hand. Et les doigts?
Alice. Les doigts? may foy, je oublie les
doigts; mais je me souviendray. Les doigts!
je pense, qu'ils sont appellés de flugres; ouy,
de fingres.

Mort de ma vie ! if they march along
Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm
In that nook-shotten + isle of Albion.

Con. Dieu de battailes! where have they
this 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,

A dreuch for sur-rein'd jades, their barley
broth,

Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? Oh! for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping icicles

Upon our houses thatch, whiles a more frosty
people

Klice. De elbow.

Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields; Aath. De elbow. Je m'en faitz la repeti-Poor, we may call them, in their native lords. tion de tous les mots, que vous m'avez appris dès a present.

Dau. By faith and honour,

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

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

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 waniors.
Bour. They bid us, to the English dancing.
schools,

Kath. O Signeur Dieu! je m'en oublie ;
De elbow. Comment appellez vous le col ?
Alice. De neck, madame.

Kath. De neck: Et le menton?

Kath. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fin-
gres. Je pense, que je suis le bon escolier.
J'ay gagne deux mots d'Anglois vistement.
Comment appellez vous les ongles?

Alice. Les ongles? les appellons, de nails.
Kath. De nails. Escoutez; dites moy, sije
parle bien: de hand, de fingres, de nails.
Alice. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort
bon Anglois.

sin : robe?

Enter the French Kind, the DAUPHIN, Duke
of BOURBON, the CONSTABLE of France,
and others.

Fr. King. 'Tis certain, he hath pass'd the ri
ver Some.

La :

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

1****

Alice. De chin.

Kath. De sin. Le col, de neck: le menton,

de sin.

Alice. De nails, madame.

Kath. De nails, de arme, de ilbow.
Alice. Suuf vostre honneur, de elbow.
Kath. Ainsi dis je; de elbow, de neck, et de
Comment appellez vous le pieds et la

• Prepared.

And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos;
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.

Alice. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur: en ve-Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edg'd, rite, vous prononces les mots aussi droict More sharper than your swords, hie to the que les natifs 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 ?

field:
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbou, and of Berry,
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and of Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, aud

Kath. Non, je reciteray à vous prompte-
ment. De band, de fingre, de nails,-

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Fr. King. Where is Moutjóy, the herald? speed him bence;

Let him greet England, with our sharp defi

ance.

Alice. De foot, madame; et de con.
Kath. De foot et de con? O Seigneur Dieu!
ces sout 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,
Il faut de foot, et de
pour tout le monde.
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, madame!
Kath. C'est assez pour une fois; allons
[Exeunt.

nous à disner.

berg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barous, lords, and
knights,

For your great seats, now quit you of great
shames,
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our
land
With pennons painted in the blood of Har
fleur :
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 Rouen
Bring him our prisoner.

Lust.
§ Dances.

Faucon

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,

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SCENE VI.-The English Camp in Picardy. Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN.

Gow. How now, captain Fluellen ? come you from the bridge?

Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent service committed at the pridge.

Flu. I'll assure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at the pridge, as you shall see in a summer's [Exeunt.day: But it is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.

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 is 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.

I would desire the duke to use his goot plea sure, and put him to executions; for disciplines

Enter PISTOL.

Flu. Do you not know him? Here comes the

man.

Pist. Captain, I thee beseech to do me fa

vours:

The duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

Flu. Ay, I praise Got; and I have merited some love at his hands.

Pist. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, Of buxom valoúr, 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 muffler + 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 aud 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 pir, and banged 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 pir 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.

Fla. 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 if, look you, be were my brother,

Valour under good command.

A fold of linen which partially covered the face. 1 A small box in which were kept the consecrated

sfers.

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

Flu. It is well.

[Exit PISTOL

Pist. The fig of Spain ! + Fla. Very good. Gow. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I remember him now; a bawd; a cat

purse.

Gow. Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogne; that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself, at his return into London, ander 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, whe 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, aud 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 ;-1 de 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. [Drea heard.] Hark you, the king is coming; and i must speak with bin from the pridge.

Enter King HENRY, GLOSTER, and Soldiers.
Flu. Got pless your majesty.
K. Hen. How now, Fluellen
from the bridge?

camest thon

Flu. Ay, so please your majesty. The dake 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 inan.

K. Hen. What men have you lost, Fluellen ↑ Flu. The perdition of th'athversary hath been very great, very reasonable great: marry, dur my part, I think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church: one Bardolph, if your majes ty 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.

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Scene VII.

KING HENRY V.

wilh
not change my horse with any that treads but on

Harry of England, Though we seemed dead, 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
and our voice is impe-
we speak upon our cue,
rial: England shall repent his folly, see his weak-four pasterns, Ca ha! He bounds from the earth,
Bid him, as if his entrails were hairs; • le cheval volant,
ness, and admire our sufferance.
therefore, consider of his rausom; which must the Pegasus, qui a les narines de feu! When I
proportion the losses we have borne, the sub-bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the
jects we have lost, the disgrace we have di-air; the earth sings when he touches it; the
gested; which, in weight to re-answer, his pet- basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the
tiness would bow under. For our losses, his ex-pipe of Hermes.
chequer is too poor; for the effusion of our
blood, the muster of his kingdom too faint a
bumber; and for our disgrace, his own person
kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless
Batisfaction. To this add-defiance and tell him,
for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers,
whose condenination is pronounced. So far my
king and master; so much my office.

J

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

Mont. Moutjoy.

K. Hen. Thou dost thy office fairly.
thee back,

And tell thy kiug,-I do not seek him now;
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachmeut: + 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, 1 tell
herald,

thee,

I thought, upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchinen.-Yet, forgive me,
God,

That I do brag thus !-this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy master, here I am;
My ransom, is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army, but a weak and sickly guard;
Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
I bough France himself, and such another neigh-

bour,

Dau. My lord of Orleans, and my lord higa
Orl. You are as well provided of both, as any
constable, you talk of horse and armour,-
prince in the world.

Dau. What a long night is this!

Turn

Orl. He's of the colour of the nutmeg.
Dau. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a
beast for Perseus: he is pure air and fire; and
the dull elements of earth and water never ap-
pear in him, but only in patient stillness, while
his rider mounts him: he is, indeed, a horse;
aud 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 coun-1 tenance enforces homage.

Orl. No more, cousin.

Stand in our way. There's for thy labour,
Montjoy.

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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: turu 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 unand wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in known,) to lay apart their particular functions, his praise, and began thus: Wonder of nature,

Go, bid thy master well advise himself:
If we may pass, we will; if we be hiuder'd,
We will your tawny ground with your red
blood
Discolour: and so, Montjoy, fare you well.
The sum of all our answer is but this:
We would not seek a battle, as we are;
Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it;
So tell your master.

Jont. I shall deliver so.

ness.

Clo. I hope, they will

now.

Is or turn.

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 mis

tress.

+ Hinderance. Then used for God being my guide.

Orl. Your mistress bears wel!.

Dau. Me well; which is the prescript praise. and perfection of a good and particular mis

tress.

K. Hen. We are in God's hand, brother, not

in their's. the bridge; it now draws toward March to night :Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves; [Exeunt. And on to-morrow bid them march away.

Con. Ma foy! the other day, methought, your mistress shrewdly shook your back.

SCENE VII.-The French Camp, near
Agincourt.
Enter the CONSTABLE of France, the Lord
RAM BURES, the Duke of ORLEANS, DAUPHIN,
and others.

Can.

Tut! I have the best armour of the world,
Would, it were day!
You have an excellent armour; but let
Orl.
my borse have his due.

It is the best horse of Europe.
Will it never be morning?

Dau. So, perhaps did your's.

Con. Mine was not bridled.

Dau. Oh! then, belike, she was old and gentle and you rode like a kernet of Ireland, your French hose off, and in your strait trossers. t

Con. You have good judgment in horsemanship.

Thanks to your high-so,
[Exit MONTJOY.
not come upon us

Dau. Be warned by me then they that ride 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 retournè à son propre vomissement, et la truie luvce au bourbier, thou inakest use of any thing.

Con. Yet do I not use my horse for my mis. tress; or any such proverb, so little kin to the that I purpose. Ram. My lord constable, the armour, saw in your tent to-night, are those stars, or saus, upon it?

Con. Stars, my lord,

Dau. Some of them will fall to-morrow, 1 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.

Alluding to the bounding of tennis balls, which were stuffed with hair. ¡ Trowsers.

+ Soldier.

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 tomorrow 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.

Con. Doing is activity and be 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.

Con. Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the mastiffs, in robustions and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives: and then give them great meals of beef, and iron, and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.

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 bim.

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. I 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.

ACT IV.

Enter CHORUS.

Chor. 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 fix'd sentinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other's watch :
Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames

Orl. I know him to be valiant.

Con. I was told that, by one that knows him Each battle sees the other's umber'd + face : better than you. Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs

Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
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 drowsy morning natue.
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 Eng-
lish,

Con. Well placed; there stands your friend for the devil have at the very eye of that proverb, with-A pox of the devil,

Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

Orl. You are the better at proverbs, by how much-A fool's bolt is soon shot.

The morning's danger; and their gesture sad,
Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats,
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon

Con. You have shot over.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were over- So many horrid ghosts. Oh! now, who will be shot.

hold

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.

Orl. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.

Orl. What a wretched and peevish + fellow is this king of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so far out of his knowledge!

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Con. If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.

Orl. That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.

Ram. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

Orl. Foolish curs! that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten apples: You may as well say that's a valiant flea, that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

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

+ Foolish.

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 be goes, and visits all his bort;
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 ariny 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 cheerful 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,
Thawing cold fear. Then, mean 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.
¡Erit.

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