Henry V, Modern text based on the Folio

¶Bardolph Well met, Corporal Nym.

¶Nym Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

¶Bardolph What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

¶Nym For my part, I care not. I say little, but when 510time shall serve, there shall be smiles. But that shall be as ¶it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out ¶mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? It will ¶toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man's ¶sword will, and there's an end.

515Bardolph I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends, ¶and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France. Let it ¶be so, good Corporal Nym.

¶Nym Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the ¶certain of it. And when I cannot live any longer, I will do 520as I may. That is my rest; that is the rendezvous of it.

¶Bardolph It is certain, corporal, that he is married to ¶Nell Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you ¶were troth-plight to her.

¶Nym I cannot tell; things must be as they may. Men 525may sleep, and they may have their throats about them ¶at that time, and some say knives have edges. It must ¶be as it may. Though patience be a tired mare, yet she ¶will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot ¶tell.

¶Bardolph Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good ¶corporal, be patient here. -- How now, mine host ¶Pistol?

¶Pistol Base tyke, call'st thou me host? Now by this 535hand I swear I scorn the term! Nor shall my Nell ¶keep lodgers.

¶Hostess No, by my troth, not long, for we cannot lodge ¶and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that ¶live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be 540thought we keep a bawdy house straight. [Nym draws his sword.] Oh, welladay, ¶lady, if he be not hewn now, we shall see willful ¶adultery and murder committed!

¶Bardolph Good lieutenant, good corporal, offer nothing ¶here.

Nym Pish.

545Pistol Pish for thee, Iceland dog, thou prick-eared cur ¶of Iceland.

¶Hostess Good Corporal Nym, show thy valor and ¶put up your sword.

¶Nym Will you shog off? [To Pistol] I would have you solus.

550Pistol "Solus," egregious dog? O viper vile! The "solus" ¶in thy most marvelous face. The "solus" in thy teeth, and ¶in thy throat, and in thy hateful lungs, yea in thy maw, ¶perdy. And which is worse, within thy nasty mouth. I ¶do retort the "solus" in thy bowels, for I can take, and 555Pistol's cock is up, and flashing fire will follow.

¶Nym I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I ¶have an humor to knock you indifferently well. If you ¶grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my ¶rapier, as I may, in fair terms. If you would walk 560off, I would prick your guts a little in good terms, as ¶I may, and that's the humor of it.

565Bardolph Hear me, hear me what I say. [Draws his sword (?)] He that strikes ¶the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a ¶soldier.

¶Pistol An oath of mickle might, and fury shall abate.

[They sheathe their swords.] ¶Give me thy fist. Thy forefoot to me give. Thy spirits 570are most tall.

¶Nym I will cut thy throat one time or other in fair ¶terms. That is the humor of it.

¶Pistol Couple a gorge, that is the word. I defy thee ¶again! O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? 575No, to the Spital go, and from the powd'ring tub of ¶infamy fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, ¶Doll Tearsheet, she by name, and her espouse. I have, and I ¶will hold the quondam Quickly for the only she, and ¶pauca, there's enough. Go to.

¶Boy Mine host Pistol, you must come to ¶my master, and your hostess. He is very sick and would to bed. ¶-- Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets and do ¶the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill.

585Bardolph Away, you rogue.

¶Hostess By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one ¶of these days. The king has killed his heart. Good ¶husband, come home presently.

¶Bardolph Come, shall I make you two friends? We must 590to France together. Why the devil should we keep knives ¶to cut one another's throats?

¶Pistol Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl ¶on.

¶Nym [To Pistol] You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you 595at betting?

¶Pistol Base is the slave that pays.

¶Nym That now I will have. That's the humor of it.

¶Pistol As manhood shall compound. Push home.

¶Bardolph [Drawing his sword (?)] By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, 600I'll kill him. By this sword, I will.

¶Pistol Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

¶Bardolph Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends. ¶An thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me, too. ¶Prithee, put up.

605Pistol A noble shalt thou have, and present pay. And ¶liquor likewise will I give to thee, and friendship ¶shall combine, and brotherhood. I'll live by Nym and ¶Nym shall live by me. Is not this just? For I shall ¶sutler be unto the camp, and profits will accrue. Give me 610thy hand.

¶Nym I shall have my noble?

¶Pistol In cash most justly paid.

¶Nym Well, then that's the humor of't.

615Hostess As ever you come of women, come in quickly ¶to Sir John. A poor heart, he is so shaked of a burning ¶quotidian tertian that it is most lamentable to behold. ¶Sweet men, come to him.

¶Nym The king hath run bad humors on the knight. 620That's the even of it.

¶Pistol Nym, thou hast spoke the right. His heart is ¶fracted and corroborate.

¶Nym The king is a good king, but it must be as it ¶may. He passes some humors and careers.

625Pistol Let us condole the knight, for lambkins, we ¶will live.

¶Exeter I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of 775Richard Earl of Cambridge. ¶I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry ¶Lord Scrope of Masham. ¶I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas ¶Grey, knight of Northumberland.

¶Hostess Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring 825thee to Staines.

¶Pistol No, for my manly heart doth earn. Bardolph, ¶be blithe. Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins. Boy, bristle ¶thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead, and we must ¶earn therefore.

830Bardolph Would I were with him wheresome'er he is, ¶either in heaven or in hell.

¶Hostess Nay, sure he's not in hell. He's in ¶Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A made ¶a finer end, and went away an it had been any christom 835child. A parted ev'n just between twelve and one, ev'n ¶at the turning o'th'tide. For after I saw him ¶fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon ¶his finger's end, I knew there was but one way. For his nose was ¶as sharp as a pen, and a babbled of green fields. "How now, 840Sir John?" quoth I. "What, man, be o' good cheer!" So a ¶cried out, "God, God, God," three or four times. Now I, ¶to comfort him, bid him a should not think of God; I ¶hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any ¶such thoughts yet. So a bade me lay more clothes on his 845feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they ¶were as cold as any stone. Then I felt to his knees, and ¶so up-peered, and upward and all was as cold as any stone.

¶Nym They say he cried out of sack.

¶Hostess Ay, that a did.

850Bardolph And of women.

¶Hostess Nay, that a did not.

¶Boy Yes that a did, and said they were devils ¶incarnate.

¶Hostess A could never abide carnation; 'twas a 855color he never liked.

¶Boy A said once the devil would have him about ¶women.

¶Hostess A did in some sort, indeed, handle women, ¶but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.860

¶Boy Do you not remember a saw a flea stick upon ¶Bardolph's nose, and a said it was a black soul ¶burning in hell?

¶Bardolph Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire. 865That's all the riches I got in his service.

¶Nym Shall we shog? The king will be gone from ¶Southampton.

¶Pistol Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. [Kisses her]¶Look to my chattels and my moveables. Let senses rule. 870The world is pitch-and-pay. Trust none, for oaths ¶are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, and Holdfast ¶is the only dog, my duck, therefore caveto be ¶thy counselor. Go, clear thy crystals. ¶Yoke-fellows in arms, let us to France like 875horse-leeches, my boys: to suck, to suck, the very blood to ¶suck!

¶Boy And that's but unwholesome food, they say.

¶Pistol Touch her soft mouth and march.

¶Bardolph [Kisses her] Farewell, hostess.

880Nym I cannot kiss, that is the humor of it, but ¶adieu.

¶Pistol Let housewifery appear. Keep close, I thee ¶command.

¶Hostess Farewell. Adieu.

1120Bardolph On, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach!

¶Nym Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too ¶hot, and for mine own part, I have not a case of lives. ¶The humor of it is too hot, that is the very plainsong ¶of it.

1125Pistol The plainsong is most just, for humors do ¶abound, knocks go and come, God's vassals drop and ¶die,

¶Boy Would I were in an alehouse in London. I 1130would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.

¶Pistol And I.

¶Fluellen [Beating them] Up to the breach, you dogs! Avaunt, you ¶cullions!

¶Pistol Be merciful, great duke, to men of mold! 1140Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage! Abate thy rage, ¶great duke! Good bawcock, bate thy rage. Use lenity, ¶sweet chuck.

¶Nym These be good humors! Your honor wins bad humors!¶

1145Boy [To audience] As young as I am, I have observed these three ¶swashers. I am boy to them all three, but all they three, ¶though they would serve me, could not be man to me, ¶for indeed three such antics do not amount to a man. ¶For Bardolph, he is white-livered and red-faced, by the 1150means whereof a faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol, ¶he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword, by the ¶means whereof a breaks words and keeps whole ¶weapons. For Nym, he hath heard that men of few ¶words are the best men, and therefore he scorns to say 1155his prayers, lest a should be thought a coward. But his ¶few bad words are matched with as few good deeds, for ¶a never broke any man's head but his own, and that was ¶against a post when he was drunk. They will steal ¶anything, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute case, 1160bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. ¶Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and ¶in Calais they stole a fire-shovel. I knew by that ¶piece of service the men would carry coals. They would ¶have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves 1165or their handkercheifs, which makes much against my ¶manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put ¶into mine, for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. ¶I must leave them and seek some better service. Their ¶villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore 1170I must cast it up.

¶Gower Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to ¶the mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with ¶you.

1175Fluellen To the mines? Tell you the duke it is not so ¶good to come to the mines, for look you, the mines ¶is not according to the disciplines of the war. The ¶concavities of it is not sufficient: for look you, ¶th'athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look you, is digged 1180himself, four yard under, the countermines. By Cheshu, ¶I think a will plow up all if there is not better ¶directions.

¶Gower The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order ¶of the siege is given, is altogether directed by 1185an Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i'faith.

¶Fluellen It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?

¶Gower I think it be.

¶Fluellen By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world. I will ¶verify as much in his beard. He has no more directions in 1190the true disciplines of the wars, look you, of the ¶Roman disciplines, than is a puppydog.

¶Gower Here a comes, and the Scots captain, Captain ¶Jamy, with him.

1195Fluellen Captain Jamy is a marvelous falorous ¶gentleman, that is certain, and of great expedition and ¶knowledge in th'aunchient wars, upon my particular ¶knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu, he will maintain his ¶argument as well as any military man in the world, in 1200the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.

¶Jamy I say guid day, Captain Fluellen.

¶Fluellen Good e'en to your worship, good Captain ¶James.

¶Gower How now, Captain Macmorris, have you 1205quit the mines? Have the pioneers given o'er?

¶Macmorris By Chrish law, 'tish ill done. The work ish ¶give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand ¶I swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; ¶it ish give over. I would have blowed up the town, 1210so Chrish save me law, in an hour. Oh, 'tish ill done, 'tish ill ¶done, by my hand 'tish ill done.

¶Fluellen Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, ¶will you vouchsafe me, look you, a few disputations with ¶you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of 1215the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, ¶look you, and friendly communication? Partly to satisfy ¶my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of ¶my mind, as touching the direction of the military ¶discipline; that is the point.

1220Jamy It sall be verray guid, guid faith, guid captains baith, ¶and I sall quit you with guid leve, as I may pick occasion. ¶That sall I, marry.

¶Macmorris It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. ¶The day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the 1225king, and the dukes. It is no time to discourse. The town ¶is besieched, and the trumpet call us to the breach, and ¶we talk, and be Chrish do nothing! 'Tis shame for us all; ¶so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still. It is shame, by my ¶hand; and there is throats to be cut, and works to be 1230done, and there ish nothing done, so Christ sa' me law.

¶Jamy By the mess, ere these eyes of mine take ¶themselves to slumber, I'll dae guid service, or I'll lig i'th' ¶grund for it; I owe God a death, and I'll pay't as ¶valorously as I may, that sall I surely do. That is the brefe and the long. 1235Marry, I wad full fain heard some question ¶'tween you twae.

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

1240Macmorris Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a villain, ¶and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal? What ¶ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?

¶Fluellen Look you, if you take the matter otherwise ¶than is meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I 1245shall think you do not use me with that affability as in ¶discretion you ought to use me, look you, being as good ¶a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of war and ¶in the derivation of my birth, and in other ¶particularities.

1250Macmorris I do not know you so good a man as myself. ¶So Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.

¶Gower Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.

¶Jamy Ah, that's a foul fault.

¶Gower The town sounds a parley.

1255Fluellen Captain Macmorris, when there is more ¶better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be ¶so bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war, ¶and there is an end.

¶Catherine Alice, tu as été en Angleterre, et tu bien parles ¶le langage.

¶Alice Un peu, madame.

¶Catherine Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne à 1325parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en anglais?

¶Alice La main? Elle est appellée de hand.

¶Catherine De ¶hand. Et les doigts?

¶Alice Les doigts -- ma foi, j'oublie les doigts! Mais je me souviendrai: 1330les doigts, je pense qu'ils sont appellés de fingres. Oui, de fingres.

¶Catherine Le main, de hand, les doigts, les fingres. Je pense que je ¶suis la bonne écolière. J'ai ¶gagné deux mots d'anglais vistement. Comment ¶appelez vous les ongles?

1335Alice Les ongles, nous les appelons de nails.

¶Catherine De nails. Écoutez; dites-moi si je parle bien: de ¶hand, de fingres, et de nails.

¶Alice C'est bien dit, madame. Il est fort bon anglais.

¶Catherine Dites-moi l'anglais pour le bras.

1340Alice De arm, madame.

¶Catherine Et le coude?

¶Alice D'elbow.

¶Catherine D'elbow. Je m'en fais la répétition de tous les mots ¶que vous m'avez appris dès à présent.

1345Alice Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.

¶Catherine Excusez-moi, Alice. Éscoutez: d'hand, de fingre, de ¶nails, d'arma, de bilbow.

¶Alice D'elbow, madame.

¶Catherine O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow. Comment 1350appellez-vous le col?

¶Alice De nick, madame.

¶Catherine De nick. Et le menton?

¶Alice De chin.

¶Catherine De sin. Le col, de nick, le menton, de sin.

1355Alice Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en vérité vous ¶prononcez les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.

¶Catherine Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grâce de Dieu, ¶et en peu de temps.

¶Alice N'avez-vous déjà oublié ce que je vous ai enseigné?

1360Catherine Non, et je réciterai à vous promptement: d'hand, de ¶fingre, de mailés --

¶Alice De nails, madame.

¶Catherine De nails, de arm, de ilbow --

¶Alice Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.

1365Catherine Ainsi dis-je, d'elbow. De nick, et de sin. Comment ¶appellez-vous le pied et la robe?

¶Alice Le foot, madame, et le count.

¶Catherine Le foot et le count? O Seigneur Dieu, ils sont ¶les mots de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non 1370pour les dames d'honneur d'user! Je ne voudrais prononcer ces ¶mots devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! Le ¶foot et le count! Néanmoins, je réciterai une autre fois ma leçon ¶ensemble: d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de ¶nick, de sin, de foot, le count.

1375Alice Excellent, madame!

¶Catherine C'est assez pour une fois. Allons-nous à dîner.

¶Gower How now, Captain Fluellen, come you from ¶the bridge?

¶Fluellen I assure you, there is very excellent services ¶committed at the bridge.

1455Gower Is the Duke of Exeter safe?

¶Fluellen The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as ¶Agamemnon, and a man that I love and honor with my soul, ¶and my heart, and my duty, and my live, and my living, ¶and my uttermost power. He is not, God be praised and 1460blessed, any hurt in the world, but keeps the bridge ¶most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ¶aunchient lieutenant there at the pridge. I think in my very ¶conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony, and ¶he is a man of no estimation in the world, but I did see 1465him do as gallant service.

¶Gower What do you call him?

¶Fluellen He is called Aunchient Pistol.

¶Gower I know him not.

1470Fluellen Here is the man.

¶Pistol Captain, I thee beseech to do me favors; the ¶Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

¶Fluellen Ay, I praise God, and I have merited some love at ¶his hands.

1475Pistol Bardolph, a soldier firm and sound of heart, ¶and of buxom valor, hath, by cruel fate and giddy ¶Fortune's furious fickle wheel, that goddess blind that ¶stands upon the rolling restless stone --

¶Fluellen By your patience, Aunchient Pistol, Fortune is 1480painted blind, with a muffler afore his eyes, to signify ¶to you that fortune is blind; and she is painted also ¶with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of ¶it, that she is turning and inconstant, and mutability, ¶and variation; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a 1485spherical stone, which rowls and rowls and rowls. ¶In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent ¶description of it. Fortune is an excellent moral.

¶Pistol Fortune is Bardolph's foe and frowns on him, ¶for he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a be, a damned 1490death. Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free, ¶and let not hemp his windpipe suffocate. But Exeter ¶hath given the doom of death for pax of little price. ¶Therefore go speak -- the duke will hear thy voice ¶-- and let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut with edge of 1495penny-cord and vile reproach. Speak, captain, for ¶his life, and I will thee requite.

¶Fluellen Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your ¶meaning.

¶Pistol Why then, rejoice therefore!

1500Fluellen Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice ¶at. For if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire ¶the duke to use his good pleasure and put him to ¶execution; for discipline ought to be used.

¶Pistol Die and be damned, and fico for thy friendship!

1505Fluellen It is well.

¶Pistol The fig of Spain!

¶Fluellen Very good.

¶Gower Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal. I ¶remember him now: a bawd, a cutpurse.

1510Fluellen I'll assure you, a uttered as prave words at the ¶pridge as you shall see in a summer's day. But it is very ¶well; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, ¶when time is serve.

¶Gower Why 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue that now and 1515then goes to the wars to grace himself at his return ¶into London under the form of a soldier. And such ¶fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names, and ¶they will learn you by rote where services were done: ¶at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a 1520convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who ¶disgraced; what terms the enemy stood on. And this they ¶con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they ¶trick up with new-tuned oaths. And what a beard of the ¶general's cut and a horrid suit of the camp will do 1525among foaming bottles and ale-washed wits is ¶wonderful to be thought on. But you must learn to know such ¶slanders of the age, or else you may be marvelously ¶mistook.

¶Fluellen I tell you what, Captain Gower: I do perceive 1530he is not the man that he would gladly make show to ¶the world he is. If I find a hole in his coat, I will tell ¶him my mind. [Drum within] Hark you, the king is coming, and I ¶must speak with him from the pridge.

¶Fluellen God pless your majesty.

¶King Henry How now, Fluellen, cam'st thou from the bridge?

¶Fluellen Ay, so please your majesty. The Duke of Exeter ¶has very gallantly maintained the pridge. The French is 1540gone off, look you, and there is gallant and most ¶prave passages. Marry, th'athversary was have possession of ¶the pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of ¶Exeter is master of the pridge. I can tell your majesty, ¶the duke is a prave man.

1545King Henry What men have you lost, Fluellen?

¶Fluellen The perdition of th'athversary hath been very ¶great, reasonable great. Marry, for my part I think the ¶duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed ¶for robbing a church: one Bardolph, 1550if your majesty know the man. His face is all bubuckles, and whelks, ¶and knobs, and flames afire, and his lips blows at his ¶nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and ¶sometimes red. But his nose is executed, and his fire's ¶out.

1555King Henry We would have all such offenders so cut off, ¶and we give express charge that in our marches through ¶the country there be nothing compelled from the ¶villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the French ¶upbraided or abused in disdainful language. For when 1560levity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler ¶gamester is the soonest winner.

¶Montjoy You know me by my habit.

¶King Henry Well then, I know thee. What shall I know 1565of thee?

¶Montjoy My master's mind.

¶King Henry Unfold it.

¶Montjoy Thus says my king: "Say thou to Harry ¶of England, though we seemed dead, we did but sleep. 1570Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him ¶we could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we ¶thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full ¶ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is ¶imperial: England shall repent his folly, see his 1575weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore ¶consider of his ransom, which must proportion the losses we ¶have borne, the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we ¶have digested, which in weight to re-answer his ¶pettiness would bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is 1580too poor; for th'effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom ¶too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his ¶own person kneeling at our feet but a weak and ¶worthless satisfaction. To this add defiance, and tell him for ¶conclusion he hath betrayed his followers, whose 1585condemnation is pronounced." So far my king and master; ¶so much my office.

¶Constable Tut, I have the best armor of the world. ¶Would it were day.

¶Orléans You have an excellent armor, but let my ¶horse have his due.

1630Constable It is the best horse of Europe.

¶Orléans Will it never be morning?

¶Dauphin My lord of Orléans, and my lord high ¶constable, you talk of horse and armor?

¶Orléans You are as well provided of both as any 1635prince in the world.

¶Dauphin What a long night is this! I will not change ¶my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. ¶Ch'ha! He bounds from the earth as if his entrails were ¶hairs: le cheval volant, the Pegasus, qui a les narines de 1640feu! When I bestride him, I soar; I am a hawk. He trots ¶the air. The earth sings when he touches it. The basest horn ¶of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of ¶Hermes.

¶Orléans He's of the color of the nutmeg.

1645Dauphin And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast ¶for Perseus. He is pure air and fire, and the dull ¶elements of earth and water never appear in him but ¶only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him. He ¶is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call 1650beasts.

¶Constable Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and ¶excellent horse.

¶Dauphin It is the prince of palfreys. His neigh is like ¶the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces 1655homage.

¶Orléans No more, cousin.

¶Dauphin Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot from ¶the rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb ¶vary deserved praise on my palfrey; it is a theme as 1660fluent as the sea. Turn the sands into eloquent tongues ¶and my horse is argument for them all. 'Tis a subject ¶for a sovereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's ¶sovereign to ride on, and for the world, familiar to us ¶and unknown, to lay apart their particular functions 1665and wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise, ¶and began thus: "Wonder of nature --"

¶Orléans I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's ¶mistress.

¶Dauphin Then did they imitate that which I composed 1670to my courser, for my horse is my mistress.

¶Orléans Your mistress bears well.

¶Dauphin Me well, which is the prescript praise and ¶perfection of a good and particular mistress.

¶Constable Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress 1675shrewdly shook your back.

¶Dauphin So perhaps did yours.

¶Constable Mine was not bridled.

¶Dauphin Oh, then belike she was old and gentle, and you ¶rode like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, and in 1680your strait strossers.

¶Constable You have good judgment in ¶horsemanship.

¶Dauphin Be warned by me then: they that ride so and ¶ride not warily fall into foul bogs. I had rather have 1685my horse to my mistress.

¶Constable I had as lief have my mistress a jade.

¶Dauphin I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears his ¶own hair.

¶Constable I could make as true a boast as that if I had a 1690sow to my mistress.

¶Dauphin "Le chien est retourné à son propre vomissement, et ¶la truie lavée au bourbier." Thou makest use of anything.

¶Constable Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, ¶or any such proverb so little kin to the purpose.

1695Rambures My lord constable, the armor that I saw in ¶your tent tonight: are those stars or suns upon it?

¶Constable Stars, my lord.

¶Dauphin Some of them will fall tomorrow, I hope.

¶Constable And yet my sky shall not want.

1700Dauphin That may be, for you bear a many ¶superfluously, and 'twere more honor some were away.

¶Constable E'en as your horse bears your praises, who ¶would trot as well were some of your brags ¶dismounted.

1705Dauphin Would I were able to load him with his ¶desert. Will it never be day? I will trot tomorrow a mile, ¶and my way shall be paved with English faces.

¶Constable I will not say so for fear I should be faced out ¶of my way, but I would it were morning, for I would 1710fain be about the ears of the English.

¶Rambures Who will go to hazard with me for twenty ¶prisoners?

¶Constable You must first go yourself to hazard ere you ¶have them.

1715Dauphin 'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself.

¶Orléans The dauphin longs for morning.

¶Rambures He longs to eat the English.

¶Constable I think he will eat all he kills.

¶Orléans By the white hand of my lady, he's a 1720gallant prince.

¶Constable Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the ¶oath.

¶Orléans He is simply the most active gentleman of ¶France.

1725Constable Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.

¶Orléans He never did harm that I heard of.

¶Constable Nor will do none tomorrow; he will keep ¶that good name still.

¶Orléans I know him to be valiant.

1730Constable I was told that by one that knows him better ¶than you.

¶Orléans What's he?

¶Constable Marry, he told me so himself, and he said he ¶cared not who knew it.

1735Orléans He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in ¶him.

¶Constable By my faith, sir, but it is. Never anybody saw ¶it but his lackey. 'Tis a hooded valor, and when it ¶appears, it will bate.

1740Orléans Ill will never said well.

¶Constable I will cap that proverb with "There is flattery ¶in friendship."

¶Orléans And I will take up that with "Give the devil ¶his due."

1745Constable Well placed. There stands your friend for the ¶devil. Have at the very eye of that proverb with "A ¶pox of the devil."

¶Orléans You are the better at proverbs by how much ¶"a fool's bolt is soon shot."

1750Constable You have shot over.

¶Orléans 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.

¶Messenger My lord high constable, the English lie within ¶fifteen hundred paces of your tents.

1755Constable Who hath measured the ground?

¶Messenger The lord Grandpré.

¶Constable A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would ¶it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England. He longs ¶not for the dawning as we do.

1760Orléans What a wretched and peevish fellow is this ¶king of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers ¶so far out of his knowledge!

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

1765Orléans That they lack, for if their heads had any ¶intellectual armor, they could never wear such heavy ¶headpieces.

¶Rambures That island of England breeds very valiant ¶creatures. Their mastiffs are of unmatchable 1770courage.

¶Orléans Foolish curs, that run winking into ¶the mouth of a Russian bear and have their heads crushed ¶like rotten apples. You may as well say that's a valiant ¶flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a 1775lion.

¶Constable Just, just. And the men do sympathize with ¶the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, ¶leaving their wits with their wives. And then give ¶them great meals of beef, and iron and steel; they 1780will eat like wolves and fight like devils.

¶Orléans Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of ¶beef.

¶Constable Then shall we find tomorrow they have only ¶stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to 1785arm. Come, shall we about it?

¶Pistol Che vous la?

¶King Henry A friend.

1885Pistol 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?

1890Pistol 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 1895heartstring I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?

¶King Henry Harry le Roy.

¶Pistol Leroy? A Cornish name; art thou of Cornish crew?

¶King Henry No, I am a Welshman.

¶Pistol Know'st thou Fluellen?

1900King 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.

1905Pistol Art thou his friend?

¶King Henry And his kinsman too.

¶Pistol The fico for thee then.

¶King Henry I thank you. God be with you.

¶Pistol My name is Pistol called.

1910King Henry It sorts well with your fierceness.

¶Gower Captain Fluellen.

¶Fluellen 'So! In the name of Jesu Christ speak fewer! It 1915is the greatest admiration in the universal world when ¶the true and aunchient prerogatiffs 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-babble 1920in 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 hear him all 1925night.

¶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?

1930Gower I will speak lower.

¶Fluellen I pray you and beseech you that you will.

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

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

1940Williams 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.

¶Williams Under what captain serve you?

1945King Henry Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

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

¶King Henry Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to ¶be washed off the next tide.

1950Bates He hath not told his thought to the king?

¶King Henry 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 1955human 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 1960the 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.

¶Bates He may show what outward courage he will, ¶but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish 1965himself 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 anywhere ¶but where he is.

1970Bates Then I would he were here alone. So should he be ¶sure to be ransomed, 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 anywhere so 1975contented as in the king's company, his cause being just and ¶his quarrel honorable.

¶Williams That's more than we know.

¶Bates Ay, or more than we should seek after. For we ¶know enough if we know we are the king's subjects. 1980If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes ¶the crime of it out of us.

¶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 chopped off in a battle 1985shall 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 afeared there are few die well that die 1990in a 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.

1995King 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 2000money, be assailed 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 2005of 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 ¶arbitrament of swords, can try it out with all unspotted ¶soldiers. Some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of 2010premeditated 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 2015outrun 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 punished for before-breach of the king's laws in ¶now the king's quarrel. Where they feared the death, 2020they 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 2025every 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 2030gained. 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.

¶Williams 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon 2035his own head; the king is not to answer it.

¶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 ¶ransomed.

2040Williams Ay, he said so to make us fight cheerfully, but ¶when our throats are cut he may be ransomed and we ¶ne'er the wiser.

¶King Henry If I live to see it, I will never trust his word ¶after.

2045Williams 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! 2050Come, 'tis a foolish saying.

¶King Henry Your reproof is something too round. I should ¶be angry with you if the time were convenient.

¶Williams Let it be a quarrel between us if you ¶live.

2055King Henry I embrace it.

¶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.

2060Williams Here's my glove. Give me another of ¶thine.

¶King Henry There.

¶Williams This will I also wear in my cap. If ever thou ¶come to me and say, after tomorrow, "This is my glove," 2065by this hand I will take thee a box on the ear.

¶King Henry If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.

¶Williams Thou darest as well be hanged.

¶King Henry Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the ¶king's company.

2070Williams Keep thy word. Fare thee well.

¶Bates Be friends, you English fools, be friends! We ¶have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to ¶reckon.

¶King Henry Indeed, the French may lay twenty French 2075crowns to one they will beat us, for they bear them ¶on their shoulders. But it is no English treason to cut ¶French crowns, and tomorrow the king himself will ¶be a clipper. --

¶Pistol Yield, cur!

¶French Soldier Je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bon ¶qualité.

¶Pistol Qualtity? "Calinny custure me!" Art thou a 2390gentleman? 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, 2395thou do give to me egregious ransom.

¶French Soldier Oh, prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitié de moi!

¶Pistol Moy shall not serve. I will have forty moys, for ¶I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat in drops of ¶crimson blood.

2400French Soldier Est-il impossible d'échapper la force de ton bras?

¶Pistol Brass, cur? Thou damned and luxurious ¶mountain goat, offer'st me brass?

¶French Soldier Oh, pardonnez-moi!

¶Pistol Say'st thou me so? Is that a ton of moys? 2405-- Come hither, boy. Ask me this slave in French what is his ¶name.

¶Boy Écoutez: comment êtes-vous appellé?

¶French Soldier Monsieur le Fer.

¶Boy He says his name is Master Fer.

2410Pistol 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.

2415French Soldier [To Boy] Que dit-il, monsieur?

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

¶Pistol Owi, cuppe-la gorge, permafoy, peasant, unless 2420thou give me crowns. Brave crowns, or mangled shalt ¶thou be by this my sword.

¶French Soldier Oh, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me ¶pardonner! Je suis le gentilhomme de bonne maison. Gardez ma vie, et je ¶vous donnerai deux cent écus.

2425Pistol 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 2430will take.

¶French Soldier [To Boy] Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

¶Boy Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner ¶aucun prisonnier, néanmoins, pour les écus que vous l'avez promis, ¶il est content à vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.

2435French Soldier [Kneeling to Pistol] Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciements, 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.

¶Pistol Expound unto me, boy.

2440Boy He gives you upon his knees a thousand 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 seigneur of England.

¶Pistol As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. 2445Follow me.

¶Boy Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.

¶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 2450valor than this roaring devil i'th'old play, that ¶everyone 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 of our camp. The French might 2455have a good prey of us if he knew of it, for there is none ¶to guard it but boys.

¶Constable O diable!

2460Orléans O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

¶Dauphin Mort Dieu! Ma vie! All is confounded, all.

¶Reproach and everlasting ¶shame sits mocking in our plumes.

¶O méchante Fortune! Do not run away.

2465Constable Why, all our ranks are broke.

¶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?

2530Gower '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 2535prisoner's throat. Oh, '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 born?

¶Gower Alexander the Great.

2540Fluellen 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 2545Macedon. His father was called 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 2550between 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 2555is 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 furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and 2560his 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 best friend ¶Cleitus.

¶Gower Our king is not like him in that. He never killed 2565any 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 finished. I speak ¶but in the figures and comparisons of it. As Alexander ¶killed his friend Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so 2570also 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.

¶Gower Sir John Falstaff.

2575Fluellen That is he. I'll tell you, there is good men porn ¶at Monmouth.

¶Gower Here comes his majesty.

¶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 2625a most prave pattle here in France.

¶King Henry They did, Fluellen.

¶Fluellen 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 2630Monmouth caps, which your majesty know to this hour ¶is an honorable badge of the service. And I do believe ¶your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon ¶Saint Tavy's day.

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

2640King Henry Thanks, good my countryman.

¶Fluellen By Jeshu, 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 God, ¶so long as your majesty is an honest man.

2650Exeter [To Williams] Soldier, you must come to the king.

¶King Henry Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy ¶cap?

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

2655King Henry An Englishman?

¶Williams An't please your majesty, a rascal that ¶swaggered 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 2660swore 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 2665your 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 good a gentleman as the devil is, ¶as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look 2670your 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, law.

¶King Henry Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st 2675the fellow.

¶Williams So I will, my liege, as I live.

¶King Henry Who serv'st thou under?

¶Williams Under Captain Gower, my liege.

¶Fluellen Gower is a good captain, and is good 2680knowledge and literatured in the wars.

¶King Henry Call him hither to me, soldier.

¶Williams I will, my liege.

¶King Henry Here, Fluellen, wear thou this favor for me and ¶stick it in thy cap. [Gives him Williams's glove] When Alençon and myself were 2685down 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.

¶Fluellen Your grace does me as great honors as can be 2690desired in the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see ¶the man that has but two legs that shall find himself ¶aggrief'd at this glove. That is all, but I would fain see ¶it once an't please God of his grace that I might see.

¶King Henry Know'st thou Gower?

2695Fluellen He is my dear friend, an't please you.

¶King Henry Pray thee, go seek him and bring him to my ¶tent.

¶Fluellen I will fetch him.

¶Williams I warrant it is to knight you, captain.

¶Fluellen God's will, and his pleasure, captain, I beseech ¶you now come apace to the king. There is more good ¶toward you, peradventure, than is in your knowledge to ¶dream of.

2720Williams [To Fluellen] Sir, know you this glove?

¶Fluellen Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove.

¶Williams I know this, and thus I challenge it.

¶Fluellen 'Sblood, an arrant traitor as any's in the 2725universal world, or in France, or in England!

¶Gower How now, sir? [To Williams] You villain!

¶Williams Do you think I'll be forsworn?

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

2730Williams I am no traitor.

¶Fluellen That's a lie in thy throat. [To Gower] I charge you in his ¶majesty's name, apprehend him. He's a friend of the Duke ¶Alençon's.

2735Warwick How now, how now, what's the matter?

¶Fluellen 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.

2740King 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 ¶Alençon.

2745Williams 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.

2750Fluellen 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 2755conscience now.

¶King Henry Give me thy glove, soldier. ¶Look, here is the fellow of it.

2760Fluellen An't please your majesty, let his neck answer ¶for it, if there is any martial law in the world.

¶King Henry How canst thou make me satisfaction?

¶Williams All offences, my lord, come from the heart. ¶Never came any from mine that might offend your 2765majesty.

¶King Henry It was ourself thou didst abuse.

¶Williams Your majesty came not like yourself. You ¶appeared to me but as a common man -- witness the ¶night, your garments, your lowliness -- and what 2770your 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 offense. Therefore I ¶beseech your highness pardon me.

¶Fluellen By this day and this light, the fellow has 2780mettle enough in his belly. -- Hold, there is twelvepence for ¶you, and I pray you to serve God and keep you out of ¶prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and I ¶warrant you it is the better for you.

¶Williams I will none of your money.

2785Fluellen It is with a good 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 good. 'Tis a good ¶silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

2790King Henry Now, herald, are the dead numbered?

¶Fluellen Is it not lawful, an't please your majesty, to tell ¶how many is killed?

¶Gower Nay, that's right. But why wear you your ¶leek today? Saint Davy's day is past.

2900Fluellen There is occasions and causes why and wherefore ¶in all things. I will tell you ass my friend, Captain ¶Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging ¶knave Pistol, which you and yourself and all the world ¶know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no 2905merits, 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 contention ¶with him, but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap ¶till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little 2910piece of my desires.

¶Gower Why, here he comes, swelling like a ¶turkey-cock.

¶Fluellen 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his 2915turkey-cocks. -- God pless you, Aunchient Pistol, you scurvy ¶lousy knave, God pless you.

¶Pistol Ha, art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base ¶Trojan, to have me fold up Parca's fatal web? Hence! ¶I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

2920Fluellen I peseech you heartily, scurvy lousy 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 ¶disgestions does not agree with it, I would desire you 2925to eat it.

¶Pistol Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

¶Fluellen There is one goat for you. Strikes him [with a cudgel] ¶Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?

¶Pistol Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

2930Fluellen You say very true, scald knave, when God's ¶will is. I will desire you to live in the meantime, and ¶eat your victuals. Come, there is sauce for it. [Strikes him] You ¶called me yesterday mountain squire, but I will make ¶you today a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to. If 2935you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

¶Gower Enough, captain. You have astonished him.

¶Fluellen I say I will make him eat some part of my leek, ¶or I will peat his pate four days. -- Bite, I pray you. It is ¶good for your green wound and your ploody 2940coxcomb.

¶Pistol Must I bite?

¶Fluellen Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of ¶question, too, and ambiguities.

¶Pistol By this leek, I will most horribly revenge -- [Fluellen threatens him.] I 2945eat and eat, I swear.

¶Fluellen Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more sauce ¶to your leek? There is not enough leek to swear by.

¶Pistol Quiet thy cudgel! Thou dost see I eat.

¶Fluellen Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 2950pray you throw none away; the skin is good for your ¶broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see ¶leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at 'em, that is all.

¶Pistol Good.

¶Fluellen Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat to 2955heal your pate.

¶Pistol Me a groat?

¶Fluellen Yes, verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I have ¶another leek in my pocket which you shall eat.

¶Pistol I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

2960Fluellen If I owe you anything, I will pay you in ¶cudgels. You shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of ¶me but cudgels. God b'wi'you, and keep you, and heal ¶your pate.

¶Pistol All hell shall stir for this.

2965Gower Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. ¶Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an ¶honorable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy ¶of predeceased valor, and dare not avouch in your deeds ¶any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling 2970at 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. Fare ye well.

2975Pistol Doth fortune play the hussy with me now? ¶News have I that my Doll is dead i'th'Spital of a ¶malady of France, and there my rendezvous is quite cut off. ¶Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs honor is ¶cudgeled. Well, bawd I'll turn, and something lean to 2980cutpurse of quick hand. To England will I steal, and ¶there I'll steal.

¶Catherine Your majesty shall mock at me. I cannot speak ¶your England.

¶King Henry Oh, fair Catherine, if you will love me soundly 3095with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you ¶confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you ¶like me, Kate?

¶Catherine Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell wat is "like me."

¶King Henry An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an 3100angel.

¶Catherine [To Alice] Que dit-il? Que je suis semblable à les anges?

¶Alice Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grâce, ainsi dit-il.

¶King Henry I said so, dear Catherine, and I must not blush ¶to affirm it.

3105Catherine O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont pleines de ¶tromperies!

¶King Henry [To Alice] What says she, fair one? That the tongues of ¶men are full of deceits?

¶Alice Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of 3110deceits. Dat is de princess.

¶King Henry The princess is the better Englishwoman. ¶I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding. I am ¶glad thou canst speak no better English, for if thou ¶couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king that 3115thou wouldst think I had sold my farm to buy my ¶crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but ¶directly to say "I love you." Then if you urge me farther ¶than to say, "Do you in faith?", I wear out my suit. Give ¶me your answer, i'faith do, and so clap hands and a 3120bargain. How say you, lady?

¶Catherine Sauf votre honneur, me understand well.

¶King Henry Marry, if you would put me to verses or to ¶dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me. For the one ¶I have neither words nor measure, and for the other I 3125have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in ¶strength. If I could win a lady at leapfrog, or by ¶vaulting into my saddle with my armor on my back -- ¶under the correction of bragging be it spoken -- I should ¶quickly leap into a wife. Or if I might buffet for my 3130love or bound my horse for her favors, I could lay on ¶like a butcher and sit like a jackanapes, never off. But ¶before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gasp out ¶my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation, ¶only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, 3135nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow ¶of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth ¶sunburning, that never looks in his glass for love of ¶anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I speak ¶to thee plain soldier. If thou canst love me for this, 3140take me. If not, to say to thee that I shall die is true, but ¶for thy love, by the Lord, no. Yet I love thee too. And ¶while thou liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and ¶uncoined constancy, for he perforce must do thee right, ¶because he hath not the gift to woo in other places. For 3145these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves ¶into ladies' favors, they do always reason themselves ¶out again. What! A speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is ¶but a ballad, a good leg will fall, a straight back will ¶stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curled pate will 3150grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax ¶hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the ¶moon, or rather the sun and not the moon, for it ¶shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course ¶truly. If thou would have such a one, take me. 3155An take me, take a soldier. Take a soldier, take a king. ¶And what say'st thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, ¶and fairly, I pray thee.

¶Catherine Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of ¶France?

3160King Henry No, it is not possible you should love the ¶enemy of France, Kate, but in loving me you should love ¶the friend of France, for I love France so well that I ¶will not part with a village of it; I will have it all mine. ¶And Kate, when France is mine and I am yours, then yours 3165is France, and you are mine.

¶Catherine I cannot tell wat is dat.

¶King Henry No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am ¶sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife ¶about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. 3170Je quand sur le possession de France, et quand vous avez le ¶possession de moi -- let me see, what then? Saint Denis be ¶my speed! -- donc vôtre est France, et vous êtes mienne. ¶It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom as to ¶speak so much more French. I shall never move thee in 3175French unless it be to laugh at me.

¶Catherine Sauf votre honneur, le fran√ßais que vous parlez, il ¶est meilleur que l'anglais lequel je parle.

¶King Henry No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking of ¶my tongue and I thine, most truly falsely, must 3180needs be granted to be much at one. But Kate, dost ¶thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love ¶me?

¶Catherine I cannot tell.

¶King Henry Can any of your neighbors tell, Kate? I'll 3185ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me, and at night ¶when you come into your closet you'll question this ¶gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to ¶her dispraise those parts in me that you love with your ¶heart. But good Kate, mock me mercifully, the rather, 3190gentle princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou ¶beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells ¶me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling, and thou ¶must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder. ¶Shall not thou and I, between Saint Denis and Saint 3195George, compound a boy, half French, half English, ¶that shall go to Constantinople and take the Turk by ¶the beard? Shall we not? What say'st thou, my fair ¶flower-de-luce?

¶Catherine I do not know dat.

3200King Henry No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise. ¶Do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavor for your ¶French part of such a boy, and for my English moiety, ¶take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer ¶you, la plus belle Catherine du monde, mon très cher et divin 3205déesse?

¶Catherine Your majesty 'ave fausse French enough to ¶deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France.

¶King Henry Now fie upon my false French! By mine honor, ¶in true English, I love thee, Kate; by which honor I dare 3210not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to ¶flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and ¶untempering effect of my visage. Now beshrew my ¶father's ambition! He was thinking of civil wars ¶when he got me, therefore was I created with a 3215stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that when I come ¶to woo ladies I fright them. But in faith, Kate, the ¶elder I wax, the better I shall appear. My comfort is that ¶old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more ¶spoil upon my face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at 3220the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, ¶better and better. And therefore tell me, most fair ¶Katherine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes. ¶Avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of ¶an empress. Take me by the hand and say, "Harry of 3225England, I am thine." Which word thou shalt no sooner ¶bless mine ear withal but I will tell thee aloud ¶"England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry ¶Plantagenet is thine," who, though I speak it before his ¶face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt 3230find the best king of good fellows. Come, your ¶answer in broken music, for thy voice is music and ¶thy English broken. Therefore, queen of all, Catherine, ¶break thy mind to me in broken English: wilt thou ¶have me?

3235Catherine Dat is as it shall please de roi mon père.

¶King Henry Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please ¶him, Kate.

¶Catherine Den it sall also content me.

¶King Henry Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my 3240queen.

¶Catherine Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez! Ma foi, je ne ¶veux point que vous abaissez votre grandeur en baisant le ¶main d'une de votre seigneurie indigne serviteure. Excusez-moi, je ¶vous supplie, mon très puissant seigneur.

3245King Henry Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

¶Catherine Les dames et demoiselles, pour être baisées devant ¶leurs noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France.

¶King Henry Madam my interpreter, what says she?

¶Alice Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of 3250France -- I cannot tell wat is baiser en Anglish.

¶King Henry To kiss.

¶Alice Your majesty entend bettre que moi.

¶King Henry It is not a fashion for the maids in France to ¶kiss before they are married, would she say?

3255Alice Oui, vraiment.

¶King Henry Oh, Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. ¶Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the ¶weak list of a country's fashion. We are the ¶makers of manners, Kate, and the liberty that follows 3260our places stops the mouth of all find-faults, as I ¶will do yours for upholding the nice fashion of your ¶country in denying me a kiss, therefore patiently, ¶and yielding -- [Kisses her] You have witchcraft in your lips, ¶Kate. There is more eloquence in a sugar touch of 3265them than in the tongues of the French council, and ¶they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a ¶general petition of monarchs. Here comes your ¶father.

¶Burgundy God save your majesty. My royal cousin, ¶teach you our princess English?

¶King Henry I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how ¶perfectly I love her, and that is good English.

3275Burgundy Is she not apt?

¶King Henry Our tongue is rough, coz, and my ¶condition is not smooth, so that having neither the voice nor ¶the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up ¶the spirit of love in her that he will appear in his true 3280likeness.

¶Burgundy Pardon the frankness of my mirth if I answer ¶you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must ¶make a circle. If conjure up love in her in his true ¶likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you 3285blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the ¶virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance ¶of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, ¶my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign ¶to.

3290King Henry Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind ¶and enforces.

¶Burgundy They are then excused, my lord, when they see ¶not what they do.

¶King Henry Then good my lord, teach your cousin to 3295consent winking.

¶Burgundy I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you ¶will teach her to know my meaning. For maids well ¶summered and warm kept are like flies at ¶Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes, and then 3300they will endure handling, which before would not abide ¶looking on.

¶King Henry This moral ties me over to time and a hot ¶summer, and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in ¶the latter end, and she must be blind too.

3305Burgundy As love is, my lord, before it loves.

¶King Henry It is so. And you may, some of you, thank ¶love for my blindness, who cannot see many a fair ¶French city for one fair French maid that stands in my ¶way.

3310French King Yes, my lord, you see them ¶perspectively, the cities turned into a maid, for they are ¶all girdled with maiden walls that no war hath ¶entered.

¶King Henry Shall Kate be my wife?

3315French King So please you.

¶King Henry I am content, so the maiden cities you ¶talk of may wait on her. So the maid that stood in ¶the way for my wish shall show me the way to my ¶will.

3320French King We have consented to all terms of ¶reason.

¶King Henry Is't so, my lords of England?

¶where your majesty demands that the king of France, ¶having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall ¶name your highness in this form and with this 3330addition, in French: Notre très cher fils Henri, Roi d'Angleterre, ¶héritier de France; and thus in Latin: Praecarissimus ¶filius noster Henricus, Rex Angliae et Haeres Franciae.