Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: James D. Mardock
Peer Reviewed

Henry V (Folio 1, 1623)

The Life of Henry the Fift.
To buy a slobbry and a durtie Farme
In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion.
Const. Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell?
1395Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale,
Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,
A Drench for sur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
1400And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine,
Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land,
Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles
Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People
Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields:
1405Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords.
Dolphin. By Faith and Honor,
Our Madames mock at vs, and plainely say,
Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue
Their bodyes to the Lust of English Youth,
1410To new-store France with Bastard Warriors.
Brit. They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles,
And teach Lauolta's high, and swift Carranto's,
Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles,
And that we are most loftie Run-awayes.
1415King. Where is Montioy the Herald? speed him hence,
Let him greet England with our sharpe defiance.
Vp Princes, and with spirit of Honor edged,
More sharper then your Swords, high to the field:
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
1420You Dukes of Orleance, Burbon, and of Berry,
Alanson, Brabant, Bar, and Burgonie,
Iaques Chattillion, Rambures, Vandemont,
Beumont, Grand Pree, Roussi, and Faulconbridge,
Loys, Lestrale, Bouciquall, and Charaloyes,
1425High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings;
For your great Seats, now quit you of great shames:
Barre Harry England, that sweepes through our Land
With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew:
Rush on his Hoast, as doth the melted Snow
1430Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vassall Seat,
The Alpes doth spit, and void his rhewme vpon.
Goe downe vpon him, you haue Power enough,
And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan
Bring him our Prisoner.
1435Const. This becomes the Great.
Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:
For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,
Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,
1440And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.
King. Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,
And let him say to England, that we send,
To know what willing Ransome he will giue.
Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan.
1445Dolph. Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie.
King. Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.
Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,
And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.

Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower
and Fluellen.
Gower. How now Captaine Fluellen, come you from
the Bridge?
Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent Seruices com-
mitted at the Bridge.
1455Gower. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Aga-

memnon, and a man that I loue and honour with my soule,
and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my liuing,
and my vttermost power. He is not, God be praysed and
1460blessed, any hurt in the World, but keepes the Bridge
most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aun-
chient Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very
conscience hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthony, and
hee is a man of no estimation in the World, but I did see
1465him doe as gallant seruice.
Gower. What doe you call him?
Flu. Hee is call'd aunchient Pistoll.
Gower. I know him not.
Enter Pistoll.
1470Flu. Here is the man.
Pist. Captaine, I thee beseech to doe me fauours: the
Duke of Exeter doth loue thee well.
Flu. I, I prayse God, and I haue merited some loue at
his hands.
1475Pist. Bardolph, a Souldier firme and sound of heart,
and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie
Fortunes furious fickle Wheele, that Goddesse blind, that
stands vpon the rolling restlesse Stone.
Flu. By your patience, aunchient Pistoll: Fortune is
1480painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to signifie
to you, that Fortune is blinde; and shee is painted also
with a Wheele, to signifie to you, which is the Morall of
it, that shee is turning and inconstant, and mutabilitie,
and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed vpon a
1485Sphericall Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles:
in good truth, the Poet makes a most excellent descripti-
on of it: Fortune is an excellent Morall.
Pist. Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him:
for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned
1490death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free,
and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter
hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price.
Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce;
and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of
1495Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for
his Life, and I will thee requite.
Flu. Aunchient Pistoll, I doe partly vnderstand your
Pist. Why then reioyce therefore.
1500Flu. Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce
at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would desire
the Duke to vse his good pleasure, and put him to execu-
tion; for discipline ought to be vsed.
Pist. Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendship.
1505Flu. It is well.
Pist. The Figge of Spaine.
Flu. Very good.
Gower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rascall, I
remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purse.
1510Flu. Ile assure you, a vtt'red as praue words at the
Pridge, as you shall see in a Summers day: but it is very
well: what he ha's spoke to me, that is well I warrant you,
when time is serue.
Gower. Why 'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and
1515then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne
into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such
fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and
they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done;
at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Con-
1520uoy: who came off brauely, who was shot, who dis-
grac'd, what termes the Enemy stood on: and this they
conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke