Henry V (1918) Yale/Text/Act IV

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search



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, 4
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 8
Each battle sees the other's umber'd face:
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents
The armourers, accomplishing the knights, 12
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 name. 16
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 20
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate 24
The morning's danger, and their gesture sad
Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts. O now, who will behold 28
The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
For forth he goes and visits all his host, 32
Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note
How dread an army hath enrounded him; 36
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night:
But freshly looks and overbears attaint
With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty; 40
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, 44
Thawing cold fear, that 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; 48
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, 52
Minding true things by what their mockeries be.


Scene One

[The English Camp at Agincourt]

Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.

K. Hen. Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore should our courage be.
Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!
There is some soul of goodness in things evil, 4
Would men observingly distil it out;
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry:
Besides, they are our outward consciences, 8
And preachers to us all; admonishing
That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself. 12

Enter Erpingham.

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.

Erp. Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better, 16
Since I may say, 'Now lie I like a king.'

K. Hen. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains
Upon example; so the spirit is eas'd:
And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, 20
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move
With casted slough and fresh legerity.
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
Commend me to the princes in our camp; 25
Do my good morrow to them; and anon
Desire them all to my pavilion.

Glo. We shall, my liege. 28

Erp. Shall I attend your Grace?

K. Hen. No, my good knight;
Go with my brothers to my lords of England:
I and my bosom must debate awhile,
And then I would no other company. 32

Erp. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!

Exeunt [all but the King].

K. Hen. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.

Enter Pistol.

Pist. Che vous la?

K. Hen. A friend. 36

Pist. Discuss unto me; art thou officer?
Or art thou base, common and popular?

K. Hen. I am a gentleman of a company.

Pist. Trail'st thou the puissant pike? 40

K. Hen. Even so. What are you?

Pist. As good a gentleman as the emperor.

K. Hen. Then you are a better than the king.

Pist. The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold, 44
A lad of life, an imp of fame:
Of parents good, of fist most valiant:
I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string
I love the lovely bully. What's thy name? 48

K. Hen. Harry le Roy.

Pist. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?

K. Hen. No, I am a Welshman.

Pist. Know'st thou Fluellen? 52

K. Hen. Yes.

Pist. Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate
Upon Saint Davy's day.

K. Hen. Do not you wear your dagger in your
cap that day, lest he knock that about yours. 57

Pist. Art thou his friend?

K. Hen. And his kinsman too.

Pist. The figo for thee then! 60

K. Hen. I thank you. God be with you!

Pist. My name is Pistol called. Exit.

K. Hen. It sorts well with your fierceness.

Enter Fluellen and Gower [severally].

Gow. Captain Fluellen! 64

Flu. So! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak
lower. It is the greatest admiration in the
universal world, when the true and auncient
prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept.
If you would take the pains but to examine the
wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I
warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle nor
pibble-pabble in Pompey's camp; I warrant
you, you shall find the ceremonies of the wars,
and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the
sobriety of it, and the modesty of it, to be other-
wise. 76

Gow. Why, the enemy is loud; you hear
him all night.

Flu. If the enemy is an ass and a fool and a
prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we
should also, look you, be an ass and a fool and a
prating coxcomb, in your own conscience now?

Gow. I will speak lower. 83

Flu. I pray you and peseech you that you
will. Exit [with Gower].

K. Hen. Though it appear a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this Welshman.

Enter three soldiers: John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams.

Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the
morning which breaks yonder? 89

Bates. I think it be; but we have no great
cause to desire the approach of day.

Will. We see yonder the beginning of the
day, but I think we shall never see the end of
it. Who goes there?

K. Hen. A friend.

Will. Under what captain serve you? 96

K. Hen. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

Will. A good old commander and a most
kind gentleman: I pray you, what thinks he of
our estate? 100

K. Hen. Even as men wrecked upon a sand,
that look to be washed off the next tide.

Bates. He hath not told his thought to the
king? 104

K. Hen. No; nor it is not meet he should.
For, though I speak it to you, I think the king
is but a man, as I am: the violet smells to him
as it doth to me; the element shows to him as
it doth to me; all his senses have but human
conditions: his ceremonies laid by, in his naked-
ness he appears but a man; and though his ill
affections are higher mounted than ours, yet
when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.
Therefore when he sees reason of fears, as we do,
his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as
ours are: yet, in reason, no man should possess
him with any appearance of fear, lest he, by
showing it, should dishearten his army. 118

Bates. He may show what outward courage
he will, but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he
could wish himself in Thames up to the neck,
and so I would he were, and I by him, at all
adventures, so we were quit here. 123

K. Hen. By my troth, I will speak my con-
of the king: I think he would not wish
himself anywhere but where he is.

Bates. Then I would he were here alone; so
should he be sure to be ransomed, and a many
poor men's lives saved. 129

K. Hen. I dare say you love him not so ill
to wish him here alone, howsoever you speak
this to feel other men's minds. Methinks I
could not die anywhere so contented as in the
king's company, his cause being just and his
quarrel honourable.

Will. That's more than we know. 136

Bates. Ay, or more than we should seek after;
for we know enough if we know we are the king's
subjects. If his cause be wrong, our obedience
to the king wipes the crime of it out of us. 140

Will. But if the cause be not good, the king
himself hath a heavy reckoning to make; when
all those legs and arms and heads, chopped off
in a battle, shall join together at the latter day,
and cry all, 'We died at such a place'; some
swearing, some crying for a surgeon, some upon
their wives left poor behind them, some upon
the debts they owe, some upon their children
rawly left. I am afeard there are few die well 149
that die in a battle; for how can they charitably
dispose of anything when blood is their argu-
? Now, if these men do not die well, it
will be a black matter for the king that led them
to it, who to disobey were against all propor-
tion of subjection
. 155

K. Hen. So, if a son that is by his father sent
about merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon
the sea, the imputation of his wickedness, by
your rule, should be imposed upon his father
that sent him: or if a servant, under his master's
command transporting a sum of money, be as-
sailed by robbers and die in many irreconciled 162
iniquities, you may call the business of the master
the author of the servant's damnation. But this
is not so: the king is not bound to answer the
particular endings of his soldiers, the father of
his son, nor the master of his servant; for they
purpose not their death when they purpose their
services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause
never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrement 170
of swords, can try it out with all unspotted sol-
diers. Some, peradventure, have on them the
guilt of premeditated and contrived murder;
some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals
of perjury; some, making the wars their bul-
wark, that have before gored the gentle bosom
of peace with pillage and robbery. Now, if these
men have defeated the law and outrun native 178
punishment, though they can outstrip men, they
have no wings to fly from God: war is his beadle,
war is his vengeance; so that here men are
punished for before-breach of the king's laws in
now the king's quarrel: where they feared the
death they have borne life away, and where they
would be safe they perish. Then, if they die 185
unprovided, no more is the king guilty of their
damnation than he was before guilty of those
impieties for the which they are now visited.
Every subject's duty is the king's; but every
subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every
soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his
bed, wash every mote out of his conscience; and
dying so, death is to him advantage; or not 193
dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such
preparation was gained: and in him that es-
capes, it were not sin to think, that making God
so free an offer, he let him outlive that day to
see his greatness, and to teach others how they
should prepare. 199

Will. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the
ill upon his own head: the king is not to answer

Bates. I do not desire he should answer for
me; and yet I determine to fight lustily for him.

K. Hen. I myself heard the king say he would
not be ransomed. 200

Will. Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheer-
fully; but when our throats are cut he may be
ransomed, and we ne'er the wiser.

K. Hen. If I live to see it, I will never trust
his word after. 211

Will. You pay him then. That's a perilous
shot out of an elder-gun, that a poor and a
private displeasure can do against a monarch.
You may as well go about to turn the sun to
ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's
feather. You'll never trust his word after!
come, 'tis a foolish saying. 218

K. Hen. Your reproof is something too round;
I should be angry with you if the time were con-
venient. 221

Will. Let it be a quarrel between us, if you

K. Hen. I embrace it. 224

Will. How shall I know thee again?

K. Hen. Give me any gage of thine, and I
will wear it in my bonnet: then, if ever thou
darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.

Will. Here's my glove: give me another of
thine. 230

K. Hen. There.

Will. This will I also wear in my cap: if ever
thou come to me and say after to-morrow, 'This
is my glove,' by this hand I will take thee a box
on the ear.

K. Hen. If ever I live to see it, I will challenge
it. 237

Will. Thou darest as well be hanged.

K. Hen. Well, I will do it, though I take thee
in the king's company. 240

Will. Keep thy word: fare thee well.

Bates. Be friends, you English fools, be
friends: we have French quarrels enow, if you
could tell how to reckon. 244

K. Hen. Indeed, the French may lay twenty
French crowns to one, they will beat us; for
they bear them on their shoulders: but it is no
English treason to cut French crowns, and to-
morrow the king himself will be a clipper. 249

[Exeunt Soldiers.]

Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,
Our debts, our careful wives,
Our children, and our sins lay on the king! 252
We must bear all. O hard condition!
Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath
Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel
But his own wringing. What infinite heart's ease
Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! 257
And what have kings that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? 260
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in?
O ceremony! show me but thy worth: 264
What is thy soul of adoration?
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men?
Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd, 268
Than they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
But poison'd flattery? O! be sick, great greatness,
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure. 272
Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out
With titles blown from adulation?
Will it give place to flexure and low-bending?
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee, 276
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose;
I am a king that find thee; and I know
'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball, 280
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
The farced title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp 284
That beats upon the high shore of this world,
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, 288
Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell,
But, like a lackey, from the rise to set 292
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn,
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
And follows so the ever-running year 296
With profitable labour to his grave:
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king. 300
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots
What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
Whose hours the peasant best advantages. 304

Enter Erpingham.

Erp. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
Seek through your camp to find you.

K. Hen.Good old knight,
Collect them all together at my tent:
I'll be before thee.

Erp.I shall do 't, my lord. Exit.

K. Hen. O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts; 309
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them. Not to-day, O Lord, 312
O, not to-day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interr'd anew,
And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears 316
Than from it issu'd forced drops of blood.
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built 320
Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests
Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do;
Though all that I can do is nothing worth,
Since that my penitence comes after all, 324
Imploring pardon.

Enter Gloucester.

Glo. My liege!

K. Hen. My brother Gloucester's voice! Ay;
I know thy errand, I will go with thee: 328
The day, my friends, and all things stay for me.


Scene Two

[The French Camp]

Enter the Dauphin, Orleans, Rambures, and [Others].

Orl. The sun doth gild our armour: up, my lords!

Dau. Montez à cheval! My horse! varlet! lackey! ha!

Orl. O brave spirit!

Dau. Via! les eaux et la terre! 4

Orl. Rien puis? Fair et le feu.

Dau. Ciel! cousin Orleans.

Enter Constable.

Now, my lord constable!

Con. Hark how our steeds for present service neigh! 8

Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
And dout them with superfluous courage: ha!

Ram. What! will you have them weep our horses' blood? 12
How shall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter Messenger.

Mess. The English are embattl'd, you French peers.

Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
Do but behold yon poor and starved band, 16
And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands;
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins 20
To give each naked curtal-axe a stain,
That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
And sheathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,
The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them. 24
'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,
Who in unnecessary action swarm
About our squares of battle, were enow 28
To purge this field of such a hilding foe,
Though we upon this mountain's basis by
Took stand for idle speculation:
But that our honours must not. What's to say?
A very little little let us do, 33
And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket sonance and the note to mount:
For our approach shall so much dare the field,
That England shall couch down in fear and yield.

Enter Grandpré.

Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
Yon island carrions desperate of their bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the morning field: 40
Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them passing scornfully:
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps: 44
The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,
With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes, 48
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal'd bit
Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless;
And their executors, the knavish crows,
Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour. 52
Description cannot suit itself in words
To demonstrate the life of such a battle
In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay for death. 56

Dau. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits,
And give their fasting horses provender,
And after fight with them?

Con. I stay but for my guard: on, to the field! 60
I will the banner from a trumpet take,
And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!
The sun is high, and we outwear the day. Exeunt.

Scene Three

[The English Camp]

Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham, with all his host: Salisbury, and Westmoreland.

Glo. Where is the king?

Bed. The king himself is rode to view their battle.

West. Of fighting men they have full three-score thousand.

Exe. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh. 4

Sal. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge:
If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, 8
My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!

Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!

Exe. Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today: 12
And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.

[Exit Salisbury.]

Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindness;
Princely in both.

Enter the King.

West. O! that we now had here 16
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day.

K. Hen. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow 20
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, 24
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour, 28
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me, 32
For the best hope I have. O! do not wish one more:
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made, 36
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian: 40
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age, 44
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian';
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, 49
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words, 52
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son; 56
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; 60
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, 64
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Enter Salisbury.

Sal. My sov'reign lord, bestow yourself with speed: 68
The French are bravely in their battles set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.

K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so.

West. Perish the man whose mind is backward now! 72

K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?

West. God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men; 76
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
You know your places: God be with you all!

Tucket. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, 80
Before thy most assured overthrow:
For certainly thou art so near the gulf
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The constable desires thee thou wilt mind 84
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.

K. Hen. Who hath sent thee now? 88

Mont. The Constable of France.

K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus? 92
The man that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust, 96
Shall witness live in brass of this day's work;
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dung-hills,
They shall be fam'd; for there the sun shall greet them, 100
And draw their honours reeking up to heaven,
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valour in our English,
That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing, 105
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly: tell the constable, 108
We are but warriors for the working-day;
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There's not a piece of feather in our host— 112
Good argument, I hope, we will not fly—
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night 116
They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads,
And turn them out of service. If they do this,—
As, if God please, they shall,—my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour; 121
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
Which if they have as I will leave 'em them, 124
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.

Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so, fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more. Exit.

K. Hen. I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom. 128

Enter York.

York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.

K. Hen. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!


Scene Four

[The Field of Battle]

Alarum: Excursions. Enter Pistol, French Soldier, [and] Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur!

Fr. Sol. Je pense que vous êtes gentil-
homme de bonne qualité.

Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a gentleman? 4
What is thy name? discuss.

Fr. Sol. O Seigneur Dieu!

Pist. O Signieur Dew should be a gentleman:—
Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark:
O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox 9
Except, O signieur, thou do give to me
Egregious ransom.

Fr. Sol. O, prenez miséricorde! ayez pitié de
moi! 13

Pist. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
In drops of crimson blood. 16

Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'échapper la force
de ton bras?

Pist. Brass, cur!
Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat, 20
Offer'st me brass?

Fr. Sol. O pardonnez moi!

Pist. Sayst thou me so? is that a ton of moys?
Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French
What is his name. 25

Boy. Écoutez: comment êtes-vous appelé?

Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer. 28

Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him,
and ferret him. Discuss the same in French
unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and
ferret, and firk. 33

Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.

Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, monsieur? 35

Boy. Il me commande de vous dire que vous
faites vous prêt; car ce soldat ici est disposé
tout à cette heure de couper votre gorge.

Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,
Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns; 40
Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sol. O! je vous supplie pour l'amour de
Dieu, me pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de
bonne maison: gardez ma vie, et je vous don-
nerai deux cents écus. 45

Pist. What are his words?

Boy. He prays you to save his life: he is a
gentleman of a good house; and for his ransom
he will give you two hundred crowns. 49

Pist. Tell him, my fury shall abate, and I
The crowns will take.

Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur, que dit-il? 52

Boy. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement
de pardonner aucun prisonnier; néanmoins,
pour les écus que vous l'avez promis, il est
content de vous donner la liberté, le franchise-
ment. 57

Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux, je vous donne mille
remercîments; et je m'estime heureux que je
suis tombé entre les mains d'un chevalier, je
pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et très distingué
seigneur d'Angleterre.

Pist. Expound unto me, boy. 63

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thou-
sand thanks; and he esteems himself happy
that he hath fallen into the hands of one—as he
thinks—the most brave, valorous, and thrice-
worthy signieur of England. 68

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.—
Follow me!

Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. [Exeunt
Pistol and French Soldier.] I did never know so 72
full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the
saying is true, 'The empty vessel makes the great-
est sound.' Bardolph and Nym had ten times
more valour than this roaring devil i' the old play, 76
that every one may pare his nails with a wooden
dagger; and they are both hanged; and so would
this be if he durst steal anything adventurously.
I must stay with the lackeys, with the luggage 80
of our camp: the French might have a good
prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is none to
guard it but boys. Exit.

Scene Five

[Another Part of the Field]

Enter Constable, Orleans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and Rambures.

Con. O diable!

Orl. O seigneur! le jour est perdu! tout est perdu!

Dau. Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all!
Reproach and everlasting shame 4
Sit mocking in our plumes. O méchante fortune!
Do not run away. A short alarum.

Con.Why, all our ranks are broke.

Dau. O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for? 8

Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?

Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
Let's die in honour! once more back again;
And he that will not follow Bourbon now, 12
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand,
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminated. 16

Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

Orl. We are enough yet living in the field
To smother up the English in our throngs, 20
If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:
Let life be short, else shame will be too long.

Exit [with the others].

Scene Six

[Another Part of the Field]

Alarum. Enter the King and his train, with Prisoners.

K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen:
But all's not done; yet keep the French the field.

Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour 4
I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
From helmet to the spur all blood he was.

Exe. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,— 8
Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,—
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd, 12
And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
He cries aloud, 'Tarry, my cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven; 16
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field,
We kept together in our chivalry!'
Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up: 20
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And with a feeble gripe says, 'Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.'
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck 24
He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd 28
Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;
But I had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.

K. Hen. I blame you not; 32
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. Alarum.
But hark! what new alarum is this same?
The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men:
Then every soldier kill his prisoners! 37
Give the word through. Exit [with his train].

Scene Seven

[Another Part of the Field]

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis ex-
pressly against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant
a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be
offer't: in your conscience now, is it not? 4

Gow. 'Tis certain, there's not a boy left alive;
and the cowardly rascals that ran from the
battle ha' done this slaughter: besides, they
have burned and carried away all that was in
the king's tent; wherefore the king most
worthily hath caused every soldier to cut his
prisoner's throat. O! 'tis a gallant king. 11

Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain
Gower. What call you the town's name where
Alexander the Pig was born?

Gow. Alexander the Great. 15

Flu. Why, I pray you, is not pig great? The
pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge,
or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings,
save the phrase is a little variations. 19

Gow. I think Alexander the Great was born
in Macedon: his father was called Philip of
Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I think it is in Macedon where Alex-
ander is porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in
the maps of the 'orld, I warrant you sall find,
in the comparisons between Macedon and Mon-
mouth, that the situations, look you, is both 27
alike. There is a river in Macedon, and there is
also moreover a river at Monmouth: it is called
Wye at Monmouth; but it is out of my prains
what is the name of the other river; but 'tis all
one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and
there is salmons in both. If you mark Alex-
ander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is
come after
it indifferent well; for there is figures 35
in all things. Alexander,—God knows, and you
know,—in his rages, and his furies, and his
wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his
displeasures, and his indignations, and also
being a little intoxicates in his prains, did, in
his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest
friend, Cleitus. 42

Gow. Our king is not like him in that: he
never killed any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done, mark 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 killed his friend 48
Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so also
Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and
his good judgments, turned away the fat knight
with the great belly-doublet: he was full of
jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I
have forgot his name. 54

Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he. I'll tell you, there is goot
men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his majesty. 58

Alarum. Enter King Harry and Bourbon with [other] prisoners [Warwick, Gloucester, Exeter, and Others]. Flourish.

K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald; 60
Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill:
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field; they do offend our sight.
If they'll do neither, we will come to them, 64
And make them skirr away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings.
Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,
And not a man of them that we shall take 68
Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Enter Montjoy.

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

Glo. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.

K. Hen. How now! what means this, herald? know'st thou not 72
That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?
Com'st thou again for ransom?

Mont.No, great king.
I come to thee for charitable licence,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field 76
To book our dead, and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our princes—woe the while!—
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood; 80
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
Fret fetlock-deep in gore, and with wild rage
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters, 84
Killing them twice. O! give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety and dispose
Of their dead bodies.

K. Hen. I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no; 88
For yet a many of your horsemen peer
And gallop o'er the field.

Mont.The day is yours.

K. Hen. Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!
What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?

Mont. They call it Agincourt. 93

K. Hen. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Flu. Your grandfather of famous memory,
an 't please your majesty, and your great-uncle
Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have
read in the chronicles, fought a most prave
pattle here in France. 100

K. Hen. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your majesty says very true. If your
majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen
did good service in a garden where leeks did
grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps;
which, your majesty know, to this hour is an
honourable badge of the service; and I do be-
lieve, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the
leek upon Saint Tavy's day. 109

K. Hen. I wear it for a memorable honour;
For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

Flu. All the water in Wye cannot wash your
majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can
tell you that: Got pless it and preserve it, as long
as it pleases his grace, and his majesty too!

K. Hen. Thanks, good my countryman. 116

Flu. By Jeshu, I am your majesty's country-
man, I care not who know it; I will confess it to
all the 'orld: I need not be ashamed of your
majesty, praised be God, so long as your majesty
is an honest man. 121

K. Hen. God keep me so! Enter Williams.
Our heralds go with him:
Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.

[Exeunt Heralds with Montjoy.]

Exe. Soldier, you must come to the king.

K. Hen. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in
thy cap? 127

Will. An 't please your majesty, 'tis the gage
of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive.

K. Hen. An Englishman?

Will. An 't please your majesty, a rascal that
swaggered with me last night; who, if a' live and
ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to
take him a box o' the ear: or, if I can see my
glove in his cap,—which he swore as he was a
soldier he would wear if alive,—I will strike it
out soundly. 137

K. Hen. What think you, Captain Fluellen?
is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

Flu. He is a craven and a villain else, an 't
please your majesty, in my conscience. 141

K. Hen. It may be his enemy is a gentleman
of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree.

Flu. Though he be as good a gentleman as
the devil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it
is necessary, look your Grace, that he keep his
vow and his oath. If he be perjured, see you
now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a
Jack-sauce as ever his black shoe trod upon
God's ground and his earth, in my conscience,
la! 151

K. Hen. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when
thou meetest the fellow.

Will. So I will, my liege, as I live.

K. Hen. Who servest thou under?

Will. Under Captain Gower, my liege. 156

Flu. Gower is a goot captain, and is good
knowledge and literatured in the wars.

K. Hen. Call him hither to me, soldier.

Will. I will, my liege. Exit.

K. Hen. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour
for me and stick it in thy cap. When Alençon 162
and myself were down together I plucked this
glove from his helm: if any man challenge this,
he is a friend to Alençon, and an enemy to our
person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend
him, and thou dost me love. 167

Flu. Your Grace does me as great honours as
can be desired in the hearts of his subjects: I
would fain see the man that has but two legs
that shall find himself aggriefed at this glove,
that is all; but I would fain see it once, and
please God of his grace that I might see. 173

K. Hen. Knowest thou Gower?

Flu. He is my dear friend, an 't please you.

K. Hen. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring
him to my tent. 177

Flu. I will fetch him. Exit.

K. Hen. My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloucester,
Follow Fluellen closely at the heels. 180
The glove which I have given him for a favour,
May haply purchase him a box o' the ear;
It is the soldier's; I by bargain should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick:
If that the soldier strike him,—as I judge 185
By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,—
Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
For I do know Fluellen valiant, 188
And touch'd with choler, hot as gunpowder,
And quickly will return an injury:
Follow and see there be no harm between them.
Go you with me, uncle of Exeter. Exeunt.

Scene Eight

[Before King Henry's Pavilion]

Enter Gower and Williams.

Will. I warrant it is to knight you, captain.

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. God's will and his pleasure, captain, I
peseech you now come apace to the king: there
is more good toward you peradventure than is
in your knowledge to dream of. 5

Will. Sir, know you this glove?

Flu. Know the glove! I know the glove is a glove.

Will. I know this; and thus I challenge it. 8

Strikes him.

Flu. 'Sblood! an arrant traitor as any's in
the universal world, or in France, or in England.

Gow. How now, sir! you villain!

Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn? 12

Flu. Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give
treason his payment into plows, I warrant you.

Will. I am no traitor.

Flu. That's a lie in thy throat. I charge you
in his majesty's name, apprehend him: he is a
friend of the Duke Alençon's. 18

Enter Warwick and Gloucester.

War. How now, how now! what's the matter?

Flu. My Lord of Warwick, here is,—praised
be God for it!—a most contagious treason come
to light, look you, as you shall desire in a
summer's day. Here is his majesty.

Enter King and Exeter.

K. Hen. How now! what's the matter? 24

Flu. My liege, here is a villain and a traitor,
that, look your Grace, has struck the glove which
your majesty is take out of the helmet of Alençon.

Will. My liege, this was my glove; here is the 28
fellow of it; and he that I gave it to in change
promised to wear it in his cap: I promised to
strike him, if he did: I met this man with my
glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my
word. 33

Flu. Your majesty hear now,—saving your
majesty's manhood,—what an arrant, rascally,
beggarly, lousy knave it is. I hope your majesty
is pear me testimony and witness, and will
avouchment, that this is the glove of Alençon that
your majesty is give me; in your conscience now.

K. Hen. Give me thy glove, soldier: look,
here is the fellow of it. 41

'Twas I, indeed, thou promisedst to strike;
And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

Flu. An 't please your majesty, let his neck
answer for it, if there is any martial law in the

K. Hen. How canst thou make me satis-
faction? 48

Will. All offences, my lord, come from the
heart: never came any from mine that might
offend your majesty.

K. Hen. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will. Your majesty came not like yourself:
you appeared to me but as a common man;
witness the night, your garments, your lowli-
; and what your highness suffered under 56
that shape, I beseech you, take it for your own
fault and not mine: for had you been as I took
you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech
your highness, pardon me. 60

K. Hen. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;
And wear it for an honour in thy cap
Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns: 64
And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow
has mettle enough in his belly. Hold, there is
twelve pence for you, and I pray you to serve 68
God, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles,
and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant
you, it is the better for you.

Will. I will none of your money. 72

Flu. It is with a good will; I can tell you it
will serve you to mend your shoes: come, where-
fore should you be so pashful? your shoes is not
so good: 'tis a good shilling, I warrant you, or I
will change it. 77

Enter [an English] Herald.

K. Hen. Now, herald, are the dead number'd?

Her. Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

K. Hen. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle? 80

Exe. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;
John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt:
Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men. 84

K. Hen. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lie slain: of princes, in this number,
And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
One hundred twenty-six: added to these, 88
Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:
So that, in these ten thousand they have lost, 92
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles that lie dead: 96
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France;
The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;
Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin; 100
John Duke of Alençon; Anthony Duke of Brabant,
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy,
And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpré and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix, 104
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!
Where is the number of our English dead?

[Herald presents another paper.]

Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire: 109
None else of name: and of all other men
But five and twenty. O God! thy arm was here;
And not to us, but to thy arm alone, 112
Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on the other? Take it, God,
For it is none but thine!

Exe.'Tis wonderful! 117

K. Hen. Come, go we in procession to the village:
And be it death proclaimed through our host
To boast of this or take the praise from God 120
Which is his only.

Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your majesty,
to tell how many is killed?

K. Hen. Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment, 124
That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

K. Hen. Do we all holy rites:
Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum' ; 128
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay.
And then to Calais; and to England then,
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men.


Footnotes to Act IV


2 poring: dim-sighted
5 stilly: softly
9 battle: army
umber'd: dusky
12 accomplishing: equipping
18 over-lusty: overconfident
19 play: play for
25 gesture: bearing
26 Investing: accompanying
36 enrounded: surrounded
39 overbears attaint: subdues anxiety
46 as . . . define: so far as they are able to apprehend
53 Minding: imagining

Scene One

10 dress us: prepare ourselves
19 Upon example: by virtue of the example set by another
20 out of doubt: certainly
23 casted slough: cast-off skin (of a snake)
legerity: alacrity
27 Desire: summon
35 Che vous la: i.e., Qui va là
38 popular: plebeian
45 imp: youngling
48 bully: good fellow
55 Saint Davy's day: March 1; cf. n.
59 kinsman: brother Welshman (Henry was born at Monmouth)
100 estate: position
101 sand: sand-bank
108 element: sky
shows: appears
110 ceremonies: marks of office
113 stoop: term of falconry, used of the hawk descending on its prey
115 relish: flavor
116 possess: infect
124 conscience: private opinion
149 rawly: without due provision
151 argument: business
154, 155 all . . . subjection: all that is reasonably demanded of a subject
157 miscarry: perish
162 irreconciled: unatoned for
170 arbitrement: decision
173 contrived: plotted
178 native: in their home country
180 beadle: minor police officer
186 unprovided: unprepared
212 pay: punish
213 elder-gun: popgun
215 go about: attempt
219 round: plain-spoken
226 gage: pledge
246 French crowns; cf. n.
251 careful: full of care
256 wringing: suffering
265 What is the essential reason men adore thee?
280 balm: anointing oil
ball: carried by a king as a sign of sovereignty
282 intertissued: interwoven
283 farced: stuffed out with pompous phrases; cf. n.
290 distressful: earned by painful labor
295 help . . . horse: is up before the sun
300 Had: would have
fore-hand: upper hand
301 member: sharer
304 the peasant best advantages: most benefit the peasant
312 hearts: courage
314 compassing: obtaining
321 chantries; cf. n.
323-325 Cf. n.

Scene Two

4 Via: away
11 dout: put out
18 shales: shells
21 curtal-axe: long curved sword
29 hilding: base
31 speculation: looking-on
35 tucket sonance: preliminary notes
36 dare; cf. n.
37 couch: crouch
41 curtains: banners
44 beaver: visor of the helmet
47 Lob down: droop
48 down-roping: hanging down
49 gimmal'd: made of rings or links
60, 61 Cf. n.
61 trumpet: trumpeter
63 outwear: are wasting

Scene Three

2 battle: battle lines
10 kinsman: i.e., Westmoreland
30 coz: cousin
37 convoy: traveling expenses
40 feast of Crispian: October 25
45 vigil: eve of a feast-day
50 advantages: added details
57 Crispin Crispian; cf. n.
62 vile: low born
63 gentle his condition: make him a gentleman
68 bestow yourself: take your post
69 bravely: with much display
70 expedience: speed
80 compound: come to terms
83 englutted: swallowed up
91 achieve: kill
107 relapse of mortality: a deadly rebound
114 slovenry: slovenliness
117 in fresher robes: i.e., dead
130 vaward: vanguard

Scene Four

Scene Four S. d. Excursions; cf. n.
4 Qualtitie calmie custure me; cf. n.
8 Perpend: consider
9 fox: sword
14 moys; cf. n.
15 rim: midriff
20 luxurious: lustful
29 firk: beat
30 ferret: worry (as a ferret does its game)
76 devil i' the old play; cf. n.

Scene Five

7 perdurable: everlasting
18 on heaps: in crowds

Scene Six

8 Larding: enriching (with his blood)
9 honour-owing: honorable
11 haggled: hacked
21 raught: reached
34 issue: shed tears

Scene Seven

34, 35 is come after: resembles
35 figures: analogues
53 gipes: jokes
63 void: leave
65 skirr: scurry
73 fin'd: fixed as the price to be paid
77 book: record
81 vulgar: common soldiers
84 Yerk: strike
89 peer: appear
96 grandfather: i.e., great-grandfather
104 in a garden; cf. n.
105 Monmouth caps; cf. n.
109 Tavy's: David's
123 just notice: exact information
124 parts: sides
143 great sort: high rank
from . . . degree: above answering the challenge of one of his rank
149 Jack-sauce: impudent rascal
167 love: an act of kindness

Scene Eight

4 toward: intended for
9 'Sblood: God's blood
37 is pear: will bear
38 avouchment: make acknowledgment
80 good sort: rank
110 name: eminence
128 Non nobis; cf. n.