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Henry V, Modern text based on the Quarto

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: James D. Mardock
Not Peer Reviewed
1118.1

[Scene 6]

Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, [and] Boy.
Nym Before God, here is hot service.
Pistol 'Tis hot indeed. Blows go and come, God's vassals drop and die.
1126.1Nym 'Tis honor, and there's the humor of it.
Boy Would I were in London! 1130I'd give all my honor for a pot of ale.
Pistol And I. If wishes would prevail, I would not stay, but thither would I hie.
Enter Flewellen, and beats them in.
Flewellen God's plood, up to the breaches, you rascals! Will you not up to the breaches?
1140Nym Abate thy rage, sweet knight, abate thy rage.
[Exeunt Nym, Bardolph, and Pistol.]
1140.1Boy [To audience] Well, I would I were once from them. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves 1165and their handkerchers. They will steal anything. Bardolph stole a lute case, 1160carried it three mile, and sold it for three ha'pence. Nym stole a fire-shovel. I knew by that, 1163.1they meant to carry coals. Well, if they will not leave me, I mean to leave them.
1170
Exit Boy.
Enter Gower.
Gower Captain Flewellen, you must come straight to the mines, to the Duke of Gloucester.
1175Flewellen Look you, tell the duke it is not so good to come to the mines. The concavities is otherwise, you may discuss to the duke. The enemy is digged 1180himself, five yards under, the countermines. By Jesus, I think he'll blow up all if there be no better direction.
Enter the King and his lords. Alarum.
1260King Henry How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parley we'll admit,
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst; for as I am a soldier,
1265A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If we begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she be burièd.
The gates of mercy are all shut up.
What say you? Will you yield and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed?
Enter Governor.
Governor Our expectation hath this day an end:
1305The dauphin, whom of succor we entreated,
Returns us word his powers are not yet ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours,
1310For we no longer are defensive now.
[Exeunt omnes.]