Con.

Why, all our ranks are broke.
Dau. O perdurable shame! -let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransome?
Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but
shame!

Let us die instant: Once more back again;
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go hence, and, with his cap in hand,
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door,
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminate.

Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
Let us, in heaps, go offer up our lives
Unto these English, or else die with fame.

Orl. We are enough, yet living in the field, To smother up the English in our throngs, 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI-Another Part of the Field. Alarums. Enter King Henry, and Forces; Exeter. and others. K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice valiant country

men:

But all's not done, yet keep the French the field. Ext. The duke of York commends him to your majesty.

K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice, within this hour,

I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.

Exe. In which array, (brave soldier,) doth he lie,
Larding the plain and by his bloody side,
(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,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
And cries aloud, Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven:
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;
As, in this glorious and well-foughten field,
We kept together in our chivalry!

Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up :
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says,-Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it fore'd

Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd; But I had not so much of man in me,

But all my mother came into mine eyes,

And gave me up to tears.

against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a plece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offered, in the 'orld; In your conscience now, is it not?

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

Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, captain Gower: what call you the town's name, where Alexander the pig was born?

Goro. 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 mag nanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.

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 Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain,-If you look in the maps of the 'orld, I warrant, you shall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth: it is called Wye, at Monmouth; but it is out of my prains, what is the name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's life well. Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things. Alexander (God knows, and you know) in his rages, and his fo ries, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Clytus.

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

Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take tales out of my mouth, ere it is made an end and fie ished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: As Alexander is kill his friend Clytus, being in his ales and bis cups; so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his goot judgements, is turn away the fat knight with the great pelly-doublet: He was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I am forget his name.

Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he: I can tell you, there is goot men born at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his majesty.

Alarum. Enter King Henry, with a part of the Eng-
lish Forces; Warwick, Gloster, Exeter, and others.
K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant.-Take a trumpet, herald;
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;
And make them skirr away, as swift as stres
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have;
And not a man of them, that we shall take,
Shall taste our mercy:-Go, and tell them so

Enter Montjoy.

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liegt Glo. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be

I come to thee for charitable license,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our princes (woe the while!)
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;
(So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes;) and their wounded steeds
Fret fetlock deep in gore, and, with wild rage,
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety, and dispose

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

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 goot a gentleman as the tevil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath: if he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain, and a Jack-sauce, as ever his plack shoe trod upon Got's ground and his earth, in my conscience, la.

K. Hen. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow.

Will. So I will, my liege, as I live.
K. Hen. Who servest thou under?

Will. Under captain Gower, my liege.

Flu. Gower is a goot captain; and is goot knowl

edge and literature in the wars.

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

Mont. They call it-Agincourt. 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.

K. Hen. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your majesty says very true: If your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshman did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which, your majesty knows, to this hour is an honourable padge of the service and, I do believe, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.

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.

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

K. Hen. God keep me so!-Our heralds go with him;

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.

[Points to Williams. Exe. Montjoy, and others. Exe. Soldier, you must come to the king.

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

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 inajesty, 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.

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

Alencon and an enemy to our person; if thou encoun ter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost love me.

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

K. Hen. Know'st thou Gower?

Flu. He is my dear friend, an please you.

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

K. Hen. My lord of Warwick, and my brother
Gloster,-

Follow Fluellen closely at the heels:
The glove, which I have given him for a favour,
May, haply, purchase him a box o' the ear;
It is the soldier's; I, by bargain, should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick;
If that the soldier strike him, (as, I judge
By his blunt bearing, he will keep his word,)
Some sudden mischief may arise of it;

For I do know Fluellen valiant,

And, touch'd with choler, hot as 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 VIII.-Before King Henry's Pavilion. Enter Gower and Williams.

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

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

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.

[Strikes him.

Flu. 'Shlud, an arrant traitor, as any's in the uni versal 'orld, or in France, or in England. Gow. How now, sir? you villain! Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn?

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's a friend of the

duke Alencon's.

Enter Warwick and Gloster.

War. How now, how now! what's the matter? Flu. My lord of Warwick, here is (praised be Got for it!) a most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a summer's day. Here is his majesty.

Enter King Henry and Exeter. K. Hen. How now! what's the matter? 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 Alencon.

Will. My liege, this was my glove; here is the 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.

Flu. Your majesty hear now. (saving your majesty's manhood,) what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lowsy knave it is: I hope, your majesty is pear me testimony, and witness, and avouchments, that this is the glove of Alencon, that your majesty is give me, in your conscience now.

K. Hen. Give me thy glove, soldier; Look, here is the fellow of it. 'Twas I, indeed, thou promisd'st to strike; and thou hast given me most bitter terms.

Flu. An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the 'orld.

K. Hen. How canst thou make me satisfaction? Will. All offences, my liege, 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 lowliness; and what your highness suffered under 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.

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 :-
And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pelly:-Hold, there is twelve pence for you, and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you. Will. I will none of your money.

Flu. It is with a goot will; I can tell you, it will serve you to mend your shoes: Come, wherefore should you be so pashful? your shoes is not so goot: tis a goot silling, I warrant you, or I will change it. Enter an English Herald.

K. Hen. Now, herald; are the dead number'd? Her. Here is the number of the slaughter'd French. [Delivers a paper.

K. Hen. What prisoners of good sort are taken

uncle?

Exe. Charles duke of Orleans, nephew to the king; of Bourbon, John duke and lord Bouciqualt:

Of other lords, and barons, knights, and 'squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

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,
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,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
The rest are-princes, barons, lords, knights, 'squires.
And gentlemen of blood and quality.

The names of those their nobles that lie dead,-
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;
The master of the cross-bows, lord Rambures;
Great-master of France, the brave sir Guischard Dau
phin;

John duke of Alencon; Anthony duke of Brabant,
The brother to the duke of Burgundy;
And Edward duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpre, and Roussi. Fauconberg, and Fois,
Beaumont, and Marl-, 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:
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,
Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock, and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss,
On one part, and on the other?-Take it, God,
For it is only thine!

Whose shouts and elaps out-voice the deep-mouth'd

sea,

Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king,
Seems to prepare his way: so let him land;
And, solemnly, see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Black-heath:
Where that his lords desire him, to have borne
His bruised helmet and his bended sword,
Before him, through the city: he forbids it,
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride;
Giving full trophy signal, and ostent,

Quite from himself, to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens!

The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort,-
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,-
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Cæsar in:
As, by a lower but by loving likelihood,

Were now the general of our gracious empress
(As, in good time, he may.) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city 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
Invites the king of England's stay at home:
The emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them;) and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chane'd
Till Harry's back return again to France;
There must we bring him; and myself have play'd
The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.
Then brook abridgement; and your eyes advance
After your thoughts, straight back again to France.

[Exit.

SCENE I-France. An English Court of Guard. Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gow. Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past.

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and where. fore in all things: I will tell you, as my friend, captain Gower; The rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and yourself, and all the 'orld know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in a place where I could not breed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

Enter Pistol.

Gow. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey

cock.

Flu. "Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his turkey cocks. Got pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, Got pless you!

Pist. Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base
Trojan,

To have me fold up Parea's fatal web?
Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu. I pescech you heartily, seurvy lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to

eat it.

Pist. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.

Flu. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.] Will

you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it? Pist. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu. You say very true, scald knave, when Got's will is: I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals; come, there is sauce for it.-[Striking him again.] You called me yesterday, mountainsquire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

Gow. Enough, captain; you have astonished him. Flu. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days:-Pite, I pray you; it is goot for your green wound, and your ploody cox comb.

Pist. Must I bite?

Flu. Yes, certainly; and out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities.

Pist. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat, and eke I swear

Flu. Eat, I pray you: Will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist. Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat. Flu. Much goot do you, seald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them; that is all. Pist. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is goot:-Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist. Me a groat!

Flu. Yes, verily, and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat. Pist. I take thy groat, in earnest of revenge.

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 be wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate. [Exit.

Pist. All hell shall stir for this. Goro. Go,go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel: you find it otherwise; and, henceforth, let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition. [Exit. Fare ye well.

Pist. Doth fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital
Of malady of France;

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd will I turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal;
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear, I got them in the Gallia wars.

[Exit.

SCENE 11-Troyes in Champagne. An Apartmentin the French King's Palace. Enter at one door, King Henry, Bedford, Gloster, Exeter, Warwick, Westmoreland, and other Lords; at another, the French King, Queen Isabel, the Princess Katharine, Lords, Ladies, &c. the Duke of Burgundy, and his Train. K. Hen. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!