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than you.

Ort. He's of the colour of the nutmeg.

Dau. ”Tis midnight, rll go arm myself. Dan. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast Orl. The dauphin longs for morning. for Perseus; he is pure air and fire; and the dull ele Ram. He longs to eat the English. ments of earth and water never appear in him, but Con. I think, he will eat all he kills. only in patient stillness, while his rider mounts him : Orl. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant he is, indeed, a horse; and all other jades you may call prince. -beasts.

Con. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the Con. Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and ex oath, cellent horse.

Orl. He is, simply, the most active gentleman of Dau. It is the prince of palfreys, his neigh is like France. the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance en Con. Doing is activity, and he will still be doing. forces homage.

Orl. He never did harm, that I heard of. Orl, No more, cousin.

Con. Nor will do none tomorrow; he will keep that Dau. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot, from | good name still. the rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary Orl. I know him to be valiant. deserved praise on my palfrey: it is a theme as fluent Con. I was told that, by one that knows him bette as the sea ; turn the sands into eloquent tongues, and my horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subject for Orl, What's he? a sofereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's sove Con. Marry, he told me so himself; and, he said, he reign to ride on; and for the world (familiar to us, cared not who knew it. and unknown) to lay apart their particular functions, Orl. He needs not, it is no hidden virtue in him. and wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise, Con. By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body sa and began thus: Wonder of nature,

it, but his lackey: 'tis a hooded valour; and, when it Orl. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.

appears, it will bate. Dau. Then did they insitate that which I composed Orl. Ill-will never said well. to my courser; for my horse is my mistress.

Con. I will cap that proverb with-There is fatto Orl. Your mistress bears well.

ry in friendship Dau. Me well ;-which is the prescript praise and Orl. And I will take up that with-Give the devil persection of a good and particular mistress.

his due. Con. Ma foy! the other day, methought, your mis

Con. Well placed, there stands your friend for the tress shrewdly shook your back,

devil: have at the very eye of that proverb, with-A Dau. So, perhaps, did yours.

pox of the devil. Con. Mine was not bridled.

Orl. You are the better at proverbs, by how much Dau. O! then, belike, she was old and gentle; and -A fool's bolt is soon shot. you rode, like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, Con. You have shot over. and in your strait trossers.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.
Con. You have good judgement in horsemanship.
Dau. Be warned by me then: they that ride so, and

Enter a Messenger. ride not warily, fall into foul bogs; I had rather have Mess. My lord higli constable, the English lie with my horse to my mistress.

in fifteen hundred paces of your tent. Con. I had as lief have my mistress a jade.

Con. Who bath measured the ground? Dau. I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears her Mess. The lord Grandpre. own hair.

Con. A valiant and most expert gentleman.-Con. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a Would it were day! --Alas, poor Harry of England! sow to my mistress,

he longs not for the dawning, as we do. Dau. Le chien est retourne a son propre, vomisse Orl. What a wretched and perish fellow is this ment, en la truie lavec au bourbier : thou makest use king of England, to mope with his fat-brained follox of any thing.

ers so far out of his knowledge! Con. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress; or Con. If the English had any apprehension, they any such proverb, so little kin to the purpose.

would run away. Ram. My lord constable, the armour, that I saw in Orl. That they lack; for if their heads had any in Four tent to-night, are those stars, or suns, upon it? tellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy Con. Stars, my lord.

head-pieces. Dau. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.

Ram. That island of England breeds very valiant Con. And yet my sky shall not want.

creatures ; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage. Dau. That may be, for you bear a many superflu Orl. Foolish curs ! that run winking into the mouth ously; and 'twere more honour some were away.

of a Russian bear, and bave their beads crushed like Con. Even as your horse bears your praises; who rotten apples: You may as well say,--that's a valiant would trot as well, were some of your brags dis flea, that dare cat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. mounted.

Con. Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the Dau. 'Wonld I were able to load him with his de mastiffs, in robustious and rough coming on, learing scrt! Will it never be day? I will trot to-morrow a

their wits with their wives ; and then give them great mile, and my way shall be paved with English faces. meals of bees, and iron and steel, they will eat like

Con. I will not say so, for fear I shonld be íaced out wolves, and fight like devils. of my way: But I would it were morning, for I would Orl. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef. fain be about the ears ol' the English.

Con. Then we shall find to-morrow-tbey bare 08. Run. Who will go to hazard with me for twenty ly stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time English prisoners?

to arın ; Come, sball we about it? Con. You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you

Orl. It is now two o'clock; but, let me see, -by teti hare them

We shall have each a hundred Englishmen: [E.ucun.

1

ACT IV.

Enter Chorus. NOW entertain conjecture of a time, When creeping murmur, and the poring dark, Flis 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 centinels 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 dreaful 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 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 be dedicate one jot of colour Unto the weary and all-watched night: But freshly looks, and overbears 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: And so our scene must to the baule fly; Where, (O for pity !) we shall much disgraceWith four or five most vile and ragged foils, Right ill dispos'd, in brawl ridiculous,The name of Agiocourt: Yet, sit and see; Minding true things, by what their mock’ries be.

[Exit. SCENE I.-'The English Camp at Agincourt. Enter

King Henry, Bedford and Gloster.
K. Hen. Gloster, 'tis true, that we are in great dan-

ger;
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,
Aud preacivers to us all; admonishing,
That we should dress as 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 Erpinghan :
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.

Erp. Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better, Since I may say-now lie I like a king.

K. Hen. 'Tiy 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 eloak, 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.

Glos. We shall, my liege. [Exeunt Glos. and Bedl.
Erp. Shall I attend your grace?
X. Hen.

No, my good knight;
Go with my brothers to my lords of England:
I and my bosom must debate a-while,
And then I would no other company.
Erp. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!

[Exit Erpingham. K. Hen. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speakest cheerfully.

Enter Pistol.
Pist. Qui va la?
K. Hen. A friend.

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

K. Hen. I am a gentleman of a company.
Pist. Trailest thou the puissant pike?
K. Hen. Even so: what are you?
Pist. As good a gentleman as the emperor.
K. Hen. Then you are a better than the king.

Pist. The king's a bawcock, and a beart of gold,
A lad of life, an imp of fame;
Of

parents good, of fist most valiant :
I kiss his dirty shoe, and from my beart-strings
I love the lovely bully. What's thy name?

K. Hen. Harry le Ray.
Pist. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish

crew ?
K. Hen. No, I am a Welshman.
Pist.

Knowest thou Fluellen? K. Hen. Yes.

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

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

Pist. Art thou his friend?
K. Hen. And his kinsman too.
Pist. The figo for thee then!
K. Hen. I thank you: God be with you!
Pist. My naine is Pistol called.

[Erit. K. Hen. It sorts well with your fierceness.

Enter Fluellen and Gower, screrally.
Gow. Captain Flueilen?

Flu. So! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak lower. It is the greatest admiration in the universal 'orld, when the true and auncievi progatifes and laws of the wars it 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 tind the circinumas su lloc wars, and tbt

cares of it, and the forms of it, and the sobriety of it, || rawly left. I am afeard, there are few die well, that and the modesty of it, to be otherwise.

die in battle ; for how can they charitably dispose Gor. Why, the enemy is loud : you heard him all of any thing, when blood is their argument? Now, if night.

these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for Flu. If the enemy is an ass and a fool, and a prat the king that led them to it'; whom to disobey, were ing coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should al-against all proportion of subjection. so, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating cox. K. Hen. So, if a son, that is by his father sent abort comb; in your own conscience now?

merchandize, do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the Gow. I will speak lower.

imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, should be Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.

imposed upon his father that sent him: or if a servant, [Exeunt Gower and Fluellen.

under his master's command, transporting a sum of K. Hen. Though it appear a little out of fashion,

money, be assailed by robbers, and die in many inteThere is much care and valour in this Welshman. conciled iniquities, you may call the business of the Enter Bates, Court, and Williams.

master the author of the servant's damnation :-But Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning this is not so: the king is not bound to answer the which breaks yonder?

particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, Bates. I think it be: but we have no great cause to nor the master of his servant ; for they purpose not desire the approach of day.

their death, when they purpose their services. Besides

, Will. We see yonder the beginning of the day, but, | there is no king, be his cause never so spotless, if it I think, we shall never see the end of it.-Who goes come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with there?

all unspotted soldiers. Some, peradventure, have on K. Hen. A friend.

them the guilt of premeditated and contrived murder ; Hill. Under wbat captain serve you?

some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of pers K. Hen. Under sir Thomas Erpingham.

jury; some, making the wars their bulwark, that have Will. A good old commander, and a most kind gen- | before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage tleman : I pray you, what thinks he of our estate? and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law,

K. Hen. Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that and out-run native punishment, though they can outlook to be washed off the next ude.

strip men, they have no wings to fly from God: war Bates. He hath not told his thought to the king? is his beadle, war is his vengeance; so that here men

K. Hen. No; nor it is not meet he should. For, are punished, for before-breach of the king's laws, in tho' I speak it to you, I think the king is but a man, now the king's quarrel: where they feared the death, as I am ; the violet smells to him, as it doth to me; || they have borne life away; and where they would be the element shows to him, as it doth to me; all his safe, they perish : Then if they die unprovided, no senses have but human conditions: His ceremonies more is the king guilty of their damnation, than he was laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man , and before guilty of those impieties, for the which they are though his affections are higher mounted than ours, now visited. Every subject's duty is the king's; but yet, when they stop, they stoop with the like wing; every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should er. therefore when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his ery soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as our's are: wash every mote out of his conscience: and dying, Yet, in reason, no man should possess him with any | death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dis- blessedly lost, wherein such preparacion was gained: héarten his army.

and, in him that escapes, it were not sin to think, that Bates. He may show what outward courage he will : | making God so free an offer, he let him outlive that but, I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish him- || day to see his greatness, and to teach others how tley self in the Thames up to the neck; and so I would he || should prepare. were, and I by him, at all adventures, so we were quit Will. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill is bert.

upon his own head, the king is not to answer for it. K. Hen. By my troth, I will speak my conscience of Bates. I do not desire he should answer for me; and the king; I think, he would not wish himself any yet I determine to fight lustily for him. where but wbere he is.

K. Hen. I myself heard the king say, he would not Bates. Then, 'would he were here alone; so should be ransomed. he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's Will. Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully: lives saved.

but, when our throats are cut, be may be ransomned, K. Hen. I dare say, you love him not so ill, to wish and we ne'er the wiser. him here alone; howsoever you speak this, to feel oth K. Hen. If I live to see it, I will never trust his er men's minds: Methinks, I could not die any where word after 80 contented, as in the king's company; lis cause be Will. 'Mass, you'll pay him then! that's a perilous ing just, and his quarrel honourable.

shot out of an elder-gun, that a poor and private disWill. That's more than we know.

pleasure can do against a monareh! you may as well Bates. Ay, or more than we should seek after; for go about to turn the sun to ice, with fanning in his face we know enough, if we know we are the king's suis with a peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word jects; if his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king after! come, 'tis a foolish saying. wipes the crime of it out of us.

Ki Hen. Your reproof is something too round; 1 Will. But, if the cause be not good, the king himself should be angry with you, if the time were convenient. hath a heavy reckoning to make; when all those legs, Will. Let it be a quarrel between us, it you live. and arms, and heads, chopped off in a battle, shall join K. Hen. I embrace it. together at the latter day, and cry ali-We died at such Will. How shall I know thee again? a place; sume, swearing; some, erying for a surgeon ; K. Hen. Give me any gure of thine, and I will waar some, upon their wives left poor behind them ; some, it in my bommet: then, if ever thou darest ackuow ludge upon the debes they owe; soine, upon their children it, I will nake it my quarrel.

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Will Here's my glore; give me another of thine. Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots,
K. Hen. There.

What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace, Will. This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou Whose hours the peasant best avantages. tome to me and say, after to-morrow, This is my

Enter Erpingham. glove, by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.

Erp. My lordd, your 'nobles, jealous of your absence, K. Hen. If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it. Seek through your camp to find you. Will. Thou darest as well be hanged.

K. Hon.

Good old knight, K. Hen. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the Collect them all together at my tent; king's company.

I'll be before thee. Will. Keep thy word: fare thee well.

I shall do't, my lord. [Erit. Bates. Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we K. Hon. O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts ! have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to Possess them not with fear; take from them now rrekon.

The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers K. Hen. Indeed, the French may lay twenty French Pluck their hearts from them!-Not to-day, O Lord, crowns to one, they will beat us; for they bear theni O not to-day, think not upon the fault on their shoulders: But it is no English treason to cut My father made in compassing the crown! French crowns; and, to-morrow, the king himself will I Richard's body have interred new; be a elipper.

[Exeunt Soldiers.

And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears, - Upon the king ! let us our lives, our souls,

Than from it issued forced drops of blood.
Our debts, our careful wives, our children, and Five hundred poor I have in yearly páy,
Our sins, lay on the king ;-we must bear all. Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
O hard condition! twin-born with greatness,

Toward heaven, to parlon blood ; and I have built Subjected to the breath of every fool,

Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests Whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing ! | Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do: What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect,

Though all that I can do, is nothing worth;
That private men enjoy!

Since that my penitence comes after all,
And what have kings, that privates have not too, Imploring pardon.
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?

Enter Gloster.
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?

Glo.

My liege! What kind of god art thou that sufferist more

K Hen. My brother Gloster's voice? -Ay; Of mortal griefs, than do the worshippers ?

I know thy errand, I will go with thee:What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in?

The day, my friends, and all thing. stay for me. beieinony, show me but thy worth!

[Exeunt. What is the soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, SCENE 11.-The French Camp. Enter Dauphin, or Creating awe and fear in other men?

leans, Rambures, and others. Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd

Orl. The sun doch gill our armour; up, my lords. Than they in tearing.

Dau. Montez e cheval :--My borse! valet! lac What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd Nattery? O, be sick, great greatness, Orl. O brave spirit! And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!

Dau. Via!-les eaur la terre Think'st thou, the fiery fever will go out

Orl. Rien puis l'air do le feu fith titles blown from adulation ?

Dau. Ciel! cousin Orleans.-
Will it give place to flexure and low bending?

Enter Constable.
Can'st thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,

Now, my lord Constable!

Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh." That play'st so subtly with a king's repose ;

Dail. Mount thein, and make incision in their liides; I am a king, that find thee; and I know,

That their hot blood may spin in English eyes, *Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,

And dout them with superduous courage: Ha! The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,

Ram. What, will you have thein weep our horses' The enter-tissued robe of gold and pearl,

blood ? The fareed title running 'fore the king,

How shall we then behold their natural tears?
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the liigh shore of this world,

Enter a Messenger. to, not all these, thrice-gorgeus ceremony,

Mess. The English are embatikd, you French peers. Not all these, laid in bed majestical,

Con. To horse, you gallant prinees! straight to can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave;

horse! Wbo, with a body tilld, and vacant mind,

Do but behold yon poor and starved band, Gjeta bim to rest, eramı'd with distressful bread;

And your fair show shall suck away their souls, Never sees horrid night, the child oi heli;

Leaving them but the shales and husks of men. But, like a lackey, from the rise to set,

There is not work enough for all our bands; Sweats in the eye of Phæbus, and all night

Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins, Steps in Elysium; next day, after dawn,

To give tach naked curtle-axe a stain. Duch rise, and help Hyperion to his horse;

That our French gallants shall to-day draw out, And follows so the ever-running year

And sheath for lack of sport: let us but blow on them, with profitable labour, to his grave:

The vapour ot' our valour will o'erturn thein. fish but for ceremony, soch a wietch,

"Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords, Winding up days with toii, and niglits with sleep, That our superfluous lackeys, and our peasants, Had the forehand and vantage of a king.

Who, in unnecessary action, swarm Tlze slave, a member of the country's peuce:

About our squares of battle, -were cnough

quny! ha!

To purge this field of such a hilding foe;

God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man niore. Though we, upon this mountain's basis by

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold; Took stand for idle speculation :

Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost; But that our honours must not. What's to say? It yearns ine not, if men my garments wear; A very little little let us do,

Such outward things dwell not in my desires : And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound But, if it be a sin to covet honour, The tucket-sonuance, and the note to mount: I am the most offending soul alive. For our approach shall so much dare the field, No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England: That England shall coueh down in fear, and yield. God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour, Enter Grandpre.

As one man more, methinks, would share from one, Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France ?

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host III. favour'dly become the morning field:

That he, which hath no stomach to this fight, Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made, And our air shakes them passing scornfully.

And crowns for convoy put into his purse:

We would not die in that man's company,
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.

That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Their horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,

This day is callid--the feast of Crispian : With torch-staves in their hand : and their poor.jades will stand a tip-toe when this day is namid,

He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips;

And rouse him at the name of Crispian. The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes;

He, that shall live this day, and see old age, And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit

Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless ;

And say-to-morrow is Saint Crispian : And their executors, the knavish crows,

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.

And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day, Description cannot suit itself in words,

Old men forget ; yet all shall be forgot, To demonstrate the life of such a battle

But he'll remember, with advantages, In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

What feats he did that day: Then shall our names Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay for | Familiar in their mouths as household words, death.

Harry the king, Bedford, and Exeter,
Dau. Shall we go send them dinners, and fresh suits, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster-
And give their fasting horses provender,

Be in their flowing cups freshly rememberd!
And after fight with them?

This story shall the good man teach his son ; Con. I stay but for my guard; On, to the field :

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, I will the banner from a trumpet take,

From this day to the ending of the world, And use it for my haste. Come, come away!

But we in it shall be remembered : The sun is high, and we outwear the day. (Excunt.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ;

For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me, SCENE II.-The English Camp. Enter the English Shall be my brother ; be he' ne'er so vile, Host; Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Salisbury, and West

This day shall gentle bis condition: moreland.

And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Gło. Where is the king?

Shall think themselves accursd, they were not here ; Bed, The king himself is rode to view their battle. And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks West. Of fighting men they have full threescore

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. thousand.

Enter Salisbury. E.re. There's five to one ; besides they all are fresli.

Sal. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds. Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed: God be wi' you, princes all ; I'll to my charge :

The French are bravely in their battles set, If we no more meet, till we meet in heaven,

And will with all expedience charge on us. Then, joyfully,-my noble lord of Bedford,

K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so. My dear lord Gloster,--and my good lord Exeter,

West. Perish the man, wbose mind is backward now! And my kind kinsman,-warriors all, adieu !

K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from Eng Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luek go land, cousin ? with thee!

West. God's will, my liege, 'would you and I alove, Exe. Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day: Without more help, might fight this battle out! And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it,

K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thee For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.

sand men ;

[Eait Salisbury. Which likes me better, than to wish us oneBe!, He is as full of valour, as of kindness ; You know your places : God be with you all! Princely in both.

Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
West.
O that we now had here

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, kan
Enter King Henry.

Harry,
But one ten thousand of those men in England, If for thy ransome thou wilt now compound,
That do no work to day!

Before thy most assured overthrow :
K. Hen.

What's he, that wishes so? For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf, My cousin Westmoreland ?-No, my fair cousin : Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy, If we are mark'd to die, we are enough

The constable desires thee-thou wilt mind To do our country loss ; and if to live,

Thy followers of repentance; that their souls The feiver men, the greater share of honour.

May make a peaceful and a sweet retire

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