Second Reel

A Chorus' Lines

Comparative Texts: Branagh's Adaptation of Henry V

Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3 | Act 4 | Act 5


ACT IV, PROLOGUE

[Enter CHORUS.]



Notes



CHORUS.
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
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,
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.
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



"Now entertain conjecture … so tediously away" placed right before 3.7.


So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
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
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;

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;
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:


"The poor condemned English … Harry in the night" precede the following scene.


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-disposed, in brawl ridiculous,
The name of Agincourt.
Yet, sit and see;
Minding true things by what their mockeries be.[Exit.]


ACT IV, SCENE I

[The English camp at Agincourt. Enter KING HENRY, BEDFORD, and GLOSTER.]

KING HENRY.
Gloster, '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,
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,
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.
[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.

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM.
Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better,
Since I may say, "Now lie I like a king."

KING HENRY.
'Tis good for men to love their present pains
Upon example; so the spirit is eased:
And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt
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;
Do my good morrow to them; and anon
Desire them all to my pavilion.

DUKE OF GLOSTER.
We shall, my liege.

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM.
Shall I attend your Grace?

KING HENRY.
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.

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM.
The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!

[Exeunt GLOSTER, BEDFORD, and ERPINGHAM.]

KING HENRY.
God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.
[Enter PISTOL.]

PISTOL.
Qui va la?

KING HENRY.
A friend.

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

KING HENRY.
I am a gentleman of a company.

PISTOL.
Trail'st thou the puissant pike?

KING HENRY.
Even so. What are you?

PISTOL.
As good a gentleman as the emperor.

KING HENRY.
Then you are a better than the king.

PISTOL.
The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold,
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 is thy name?

KING HENRY.
Harry le Roy.

PISTOL.
Le Roy!
A Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?

KING HENRY.
No, I am a Welshman.

PISTOL.
Know'st thou Fluellen?

KING HENRY.
Yes.

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

KING HENRY.
Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he
knock that about yours.

PISTOL.
Art thou his friend?

KING HENRY.
And his kinsman too.

PISTOL.
The figo for thee, then!

KING HENRY.
I thank you: God be with you!

PISTOL.
My name is Pistol call'd.[Exit.]

KING HENRY.
It sorts well with your fierceness.

[Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER, severally.]

GOWER.
Captain Fluellen!

FLUELLEN.
So! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak lower. It is the
greatest admiration in the universal 'orld, when the true
and auncient prerogatifs 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 otherwise.

GOWER.
Why, the enemy is loud; you heard him all night.

FLUELLEN.
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?

GOWER.
I will speak lower.

FLUELLEN.
I pray you, and peseech you, that you will.

[Exeunt GOWER and FLUELLEN.]

KING HENRY.
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.]

ALEXANDER COURT.
Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks
yonder?

JOHN BATES.
I think it be: but we have no great cause to desire the
approach of day.

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

KING HENRY.
A friend.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Under what captain serve you?

KING HENRY.
Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

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

KING HENRY.
Even as men wrack'd upon a sand, that look to be wash'd off
the next tide.

JOHN BATES.
He hath not told his thought to the king?

KING HENRY.
No; nor it is 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 nakedness he appears but a man;
and though
his 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.

JOHN 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.

KING HENRY.
By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the king: I think
he would not wish himself any where but where he is.

JOHN BATES.
Then I would he were here alone; so should he be sure to be
ransom'd, and a many poor men's lives saved.

KING HENRY.
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 any where so contented as in the
king's company,- his cause being just, and his quarrel
honourable.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
That's more than we know.

JOHN 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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath a heavy
reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads,
chopp'd off in 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 that
die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of any
thing, when blood is their argument? 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 proportion
of subjection.

KING HENRY.
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 assail'd by robbers, and die
in many irreconciled 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 of swords, can try it out with all unspotted
soldiers:
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 bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom
of peace with pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have
defeated the law and outrun native 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
punish'd for before-breach of the king's laws in now the
king's quarrel: where they fear'd the death, they have borne
life away; and where they would be safe, they perish: then
if they die 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 dying, the time was
blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gain'd: and in
him that escapes, 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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon his own
head,- the king is not to answer it.

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

KING HENRY.
I myself heard the king say he would not be ransom'd.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully: but when our
throats are cut, he may be ransom'd, and we ne'er the wiser.

KING HENRY.
If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
'Mass, you'll 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.

KING HENRY.
Your reproof is something too round: I should be angry with
you, if the time were convenient.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.

KING HENRY.
I embrace it.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
How shall I know thee again?

KING HENRY.
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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Here's my glove: give me another of thine.

KING HENRY.
There.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
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.

KING HENRY.
If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Thou darest as well be hang'd.

KING HENRY.
Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the king's
company.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Keep thy word: fare thee well.

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

KING HENRY.
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.[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!
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!
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
Save ceremony,- save general ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
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!
What is thy soul, O 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
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!

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,
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,
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
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,
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,
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,
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.
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.
[Enter ERPINGHAM.]

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM.
My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
Seek through your camp to find you.

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

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM.
I shall do't, my lord. [Exit.]

KING HENRY.
O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if th'opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them!- Not to-day, O Lord,
O not to-day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interred new;
And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears
Than from it issued 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
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,
Imploring pardon.

[Enter GLOSTER.]

DUKE OF GLOSTER.
My liege!

KING HENRY.
My brother Gloster's voice?- Ay;
I know thy errand, I will go with thee:-
The day, my friends, and all things stay for me.

[Exeunt.]


ACT IV, SCENE II

[The French camp. Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and others.]

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords!

DAUPHIN.
Montez a cheval!- my horse! varlet, laquais! ha!

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
O brave spirit!

DAUPHIN.
Via!- les eaux et la terre,-

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
Rien puis? l' air et le feu,-

DAUPHIN.
Ciel! cousin Orleans.
[Enter CONSTABLE.]
Now, my lord Constable!

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh!

DAUPHIN.
Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,

And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!

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

[Enter a MESSENGER.]

MESSENGER.
The English are embattled, you French peers.

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
Do but behold yond poor and starved band,
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
To give each naked curtle-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.
'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
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 honour must not. What's to say?


"And so our scene … The name of Agincourt" moved to the end of scene 3.


A very little little let us do,
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 GRANDPRE.]


Moved to the end of this scene.


GRANDPRE.
Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
Yond island carrions, desperate of their bones,
Ill-favouredly become the morning field:

Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them passing scornfully:
Big Mars seems bankrout in their beggar'd host,
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps:
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,
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal-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.
Description cannot suit itself in words
To demonstrate the life of such a battle
In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.

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

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
I stay but for my guidon:- to the field!-
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.]


ACT IV, SCENE III

[The English camp. Enter GLOSTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host; SALISBURY, and WESTMORELAND.]

DUKE OF GLOSTER.
Where is the king?

DUKE OF BEDFORD.
The king himself is rode to view the battle.

EARL OF WESTMORELAND.
Of fighting-men they have full three-score thousand.

DUKE OF EXETER.
There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.



Spoken by Montjoy.


EARL OF SALISBURY.
God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
God b' 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,-
My dear Lord Gloster,- and my good Lord Exeter,-
And my kind kinsman,- warriors all, adieu!

DUKE OF BEDFORD.
Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!

DUKE OF EXETER.
Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:
And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.[Exit
SALISBURY.]

DUKE OF BEDFORD.
He is as full of valour as of kindness;
Princely in both.
[Enter KING HENRY.]

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

KING HENRY.
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland?- No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
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;
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,
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,
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,
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.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
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,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,-
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
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;
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
Shall think themselves accurst they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
[Enter SALISBURY.]

EARL OF SALISBURY.
My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battle set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.

KING HENRY.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.

EARL OF WESTMORELAND.
Perish the man whose mind is backward now!

KING HENRY.
Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?

EARL OF WESTMORELAND.
God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, might fight this battle out!

KING HENRY.
Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
Which likes me better than to wish us one.-
You know your places: God be with you all!
[Tucket. Enter MONTJOY.]

MONTJOY.
Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
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
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.

KING HENRY.
Who hath sent thee now?

MONTJOY.
The Constable of France.

KING HENRY.
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?

The man that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast lived, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
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 dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet them,
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,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly:- tell the Constable
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,-
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
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;
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,
Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.

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

KING HENRY.
I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.
[Enter YORK.]

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

KING HENRY.
Take it, brave York.- Now, soldiers, march away:-
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!
[Exeunt.]



Spoken by Earpingham.







Insert from fourth Chorus:

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-disposed, in brawl ridiculous, / The name of Agincourt.


ACT IV, SCENE IV

[The field of battle. Alarum: excursions. Enter PISTOL, FRENCH SOLDIER,
and BOY.]

PISTOL.
Yield, cur!

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Je pense que vous etes le gentilhomme de bonne qualite.

PISTOL.
Qualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman? what is
thy name? discuss.

FRENCH SOLDIER.
O Seigneur Dieu!

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

FRENCH SOLDIER.
O, prenez misericorde! ayez pitie de moy!

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

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Est-il impossible de d'echapper la force de ton bras?

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

FRENCH SOLDIER.
O, pardonnez-moy!

PISTOL.
Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?
Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French
What is his name.

BOY.
Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Monsieur le Fer.

BOY.
He says his name is Master Fer.

PISTOL.
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.

PISTOL.
Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Que dit-il, monsieur?

BOY.
Il me commande de vous dire que vous faites vous pret; car
ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette heure de couper votre
gorge.

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

FRENCH SOLDIER.
O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner! Je
suis gentilhomme de bonne maison: gardez ma vie, et je vous
donnerai deux cents ecus.

PISTOL.
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.

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

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

BOY.
Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun
prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous l'avez promis,
il est content de vous donner la liberte, le franchisement.

FRENCH SOLDIER.
Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercimens; et je
m'estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les mains d'un
chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et tres
distingue seigneur d'Angleterre.

PISTOL.
Expound unto me, boy.

BOY.
He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and he
esteems himself happy that he hath fall'n into the hands of
one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-
worthy signieur of England.

PISTOL.
As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.- Follow me, cur.
[Exit.]

BOY.
Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. [Exit FRENCH SOLDIER.] I
did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart:
but the saying is true,- The empty vessel makes the greatest
sound. Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this
roaring devil i' th'old play, that every one may pare his
nails with a wooden dagger; and they are both hang'd; and so
would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I
must stay with the lackeys, with the luggage 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.]


ACT IV, SCENE V

[Another part of the field. Enter CONSTABLE, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, RAMBURES, and others.]

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
O Diable!

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
O Seigneur!- le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

DAUPHIN.
Mort de ma vie! All is confounded, all!
Reproach and everlasting shame
Sit mocking in our plumes.- O mechante fortune!-
Do not run away.[A short alarum.]

CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
Why, all our ranks are broke.

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

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?




DUKE OF BOURBON.
Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!



Spoken by the Constable.


Let's die in honour: 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 pandar, hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminate.

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

DUKE OF ORLEANS.
We are enow, yet living in the field,
To smother up the English in our throngs,
If any order might be thought upon.

DUKE OF BOURBON.
The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:
Let life be short; else shame will be too long.

[Exeunt.]


ACT IV, SCENE VI

[Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter KING HENRY and FORCES, EXETER, and others.]

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

DUKE OF EXETER.
The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

KING HENRY.
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.

DUKE OF EXETER.
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 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:
He smiled 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, espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
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.

KING HENRY.
I blame you not;
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 reinforced their scatter'd men:-
Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
Give the word through.[Exeunt.]


ACT IV, SCENE VII

[Another part of the field. Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER.]

FLUELLEN.
Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly 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?

GOWER.
'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 burn'd 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!

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

GOWER.
Alexander the Great.

FLUELLEN.
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.

GOWER.
I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon: his father
was call'd Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

FLUELLEN.
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 sall 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 alike 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,- Got 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.

GOWER.
Our king is not like him in that: he never kill'd any of his
friends.

FLUELLEN.
It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of
my mouth, ere it is made and finish'd. I speak but in the
figures and comparisons of it: as Alexander kill'd his
friend Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups; so also
Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his goot
judgements, turn'd away the fat knight with the great-pelly
doublet: he was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and
mocks; I have forgot his name.

GOWER.
Sir John Falstaff.

FLUELLEN.
That is he:- I'll tell you there is goot men porn at
Monmouth.

GOWER.
Here comes his majesty.

[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY and FORCES; WARWICK,
GLOSTER, EXETER, and others.]

KING HENRY.
I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant.
- Take a trumpet, herald;
Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond 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 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
Shall taste our mercy:- go, and tell them so.

DUKE OF EXETER.
Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

DUKE OF GLOSTER.
His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

[Enter MONTJOY.]

KING HENRY.
How now! what means this, herald? know'st thou not
That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?
Comest thou again for ransom?

MONTJOY.
No, great king:
I come to thee for charitable licence
That we may wander o'er this bloody field
To look 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
Of their dead bodies!

KING HENRY.
I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no;

For yet a many of your horsemen peer
And gallop o'er the field.

MONTJOY.
The day is yours.

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

MONTJOY.
They call it Agincourt.

KING HENRY.
Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

FLUELLEN.
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.

KING HENRY.
They did, Fluellen.

FLUELLEN.
Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is remember'd
of it, the Welshmen 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 pelieve your majesty takes no scorn to
wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.

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

FLUELLEN.
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!

KING HENRY.
Thanks, good my countryman.

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

KING HENRY.
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.[Points
to WILLIAMS. Exeunt HERALDS with MONTJOY.]

DUKE OF EXETER.
Soldier, you must come to the king.

KING HENRY.
Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?

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

KING HENRY.
An Englishman?

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
An't please your majesty, a rascal that swagger'd with me
last night; who, if alive, and ever dare to challenge this
glove, I have sworn to take him a box o' th'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.

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

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

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

FLUELLEN.
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.

KING HENRY.
Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
So I will, my liege, as I live.

KING HENRY.
Who servest thou under?

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Under Captain Gower, my liege.

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

KING HENRY.
Call him hither to me, soldier.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
I will, my liege.[Exit.]

KING HENRY.
Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and stick it
in thy cap: when Alencon and myself were down together, I
pluck'd this glove from his helm: if any man challenge this,
he is a friend to Alencon, and an enemy to our person; if
thou encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me
love.

FLUELLEN.
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, an please
Got of his grace that I might see.

KING HENRY.
Know'st thou Gower?

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

KING HENRY.
Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.

FLUELLEN.
I will fetch him.[Exit.]

KING HENRY.
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' th'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.]


Spoken by Orleans.



Insert Pistol's lines from 5.1: "Doth Fortune play the huswife … and there I'll steal"



ACT IV, SCENE VIII

[Before King Henry's pavilion. Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS.]

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
I warrant it is to knight you, captain.

[Enter FLUELLEN.]

FLUELLEN.
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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Sir, know you this glove?

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

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
I know this; and thus I challenge it.[Strikes him.]

FLUELLEN.
'Splood, an arrant traitor as any's in the universal 'orld,
or in France, or in England!

GOWER.
How now, sir! you villain!

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Do you think I'll be forsworn?

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

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
I am no traitor.

FLUELLEN.
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.]

EARL OF WARWICK.
How now, how now! what's the matter?

FLUELLEN.
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.]

KING HENRY.
How now! what's the matter?

FLUELLEN.
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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
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.

FLUELLEN.
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 Alencon, that your
majesty is give me, in your conscience, now.

KING HENRY.
Give me thy glove, soldier: look, here is the fellow of it.
'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike;
And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

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

KING HENRY.
How canst thou make me satisfaction?

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
All offences, my liege, come from the heart: never came any
from mine that might offend your majesty.

KING HENRY.
It was ourself thou didst abuse.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
Your majesty came not like yourself: you appear'd to me but
as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your
lowliness; and what your highness suffer'd 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.

KING HENRY.
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.

FLUELLEN.
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.

MICHAEL WILLIAMS.
I will none of your money.

FLUELLEN.
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.]

KING HENRY.
Now, herald,- are the dead number'd?




HERALD.
Here is the number of the slaughter'd French. [Delivers
a paper.]

KING HENRY.
What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

DUKE OF EXETER.
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.

KING HENRY.
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 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 Guiscard Dauphin;
John duke of Alencon; Antony duke of Brabant,
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;
And Edward duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,
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;
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 th'other?- Take it, God,
For it is only Thine!

DUKE OF EXETER.
'Tis wonderful!

KING HENRY.
Come, go we in procession to the village:
And be it death proclaimed through our host
To boast of this, or take that praise from God
Which is His only.

FLUELLEN.
Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell how many
is kill'd?

KING HENRY.
Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,
That God fought for us.

FLUELLEN.
Yes, my conscience, He did us great goot.

KING HENRY.
Do we all holy rites:
Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum'.
The dead with charity enclosed in clay,
We'll then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men.

[Exeunt.]



Once again, the Herald is Montjoy.



"Non nobis" sung as bodies are carried away.


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