But by the Mass our hearts are in the trim;
And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes; for they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads,
And turn them out of service.

As, if God please, they shall,

If they do this,.—

my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thy labour;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.

Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shall hear herald any more.

[Exit. King. I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.

Enter the Duke of YORK.11

York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg The leading of the vaward.12

King. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march

away:

And how Thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!

[Exeunt.

11 This Edward Duke of York was the son of Edmund of Langley, the Duke of York, who was the fourth son of King Edward III. He is the man who figures as Aumerle in King Richard the Second.

12 The vaward is the vanguard. So in Holinshed: "He appointed a vaward, of the which he made capteine Edward duke of York, who of an haultie courage had desired that office."

Alarums: excursions. Enter French Soldier, PISTOL, and the Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur!

Fr. Sol. Je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bonne qualité.

Pist. Quality! Callino, castore me!1 art thou a gentle-. man? what is thy name? discuss.

Fr. Sol. O Seigneur Dieu!

Pist. O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman:
Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark:
O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,2
Except, O signieur, thou do give to me
Egregious ransom.

Fr. Sol. O prenez miséricorde! ayez pitié de moi!
Pist. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat

1 These words, it seems, were the burden of an old song. Boswell found the notes in Playford's Musical Companion. He says the words mean "Little girl of my heart, for ever and ever"; and adds, “They have, it is true, no great connection with the poor Frenchman's supplications, nor were they meant to have any. Pistol, instead of attending to him, contemptuously hums a tune."

2 Fox was an old fancy-term for sword. "The name," says Staunton, "was given from the circumstance that Andrea Ferrara, and, since his time, other foreign sword-cutlers, adopted a fox as the blade-mark of their weapons. Swords, with a running fox rudely engraved on the blades, are still occasionally to be met with in the old curiosity-shops of London."

3 Moy or moyos was a measure of corn; in French muy or muid, Latin modius, a bushel. It appears that twenty-seven moys were equal to at least

two tons.

4 Pistol is not very scrupulous in his language: he uses rim for the intestines generally. Bishop Wilkins defines it "the membrane of the belly";

In drops of crimson blood.

Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'échapperola force de ton bras?

Pist. Brass, cur!

Thou damned and luxurious mountain-goat,

Offer'st me brass?

Fr. Sol. O, pardonnez-moi!

Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?—

Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French
What is his name.

Boy. Ecoutez: comment êtes-vous appelé ?

Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.

Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk 5 him, and ferret him discuss the same in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and

firk.

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

Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, monsieur ?

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

Pist. Oui, couper la gorge, par ma foi,

Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;

Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sol. O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison; gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents écus.

Florio makes it the omentum, "a fat pannicle, caule, sewet, rim, or kell wherein the bowels are lapt."

5 To firk is to beat or scourge: to yerk and to jerk have the same import. To ferret is of kindred meaning, the ferret being a very fierce and spiteful animal. So in the old play of King Leir: "I'll ferret you ere night for that word."

Pist. 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.

Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I

The crowns will take.

Fr. Sol. 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 de vous donner la liberté, le franchise

ment.

Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercîmens ; 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.

Pist. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. 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 signieur of England.

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. Follow me, cur.

[Exit.

Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. [Exit French Soldier.]—I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound. Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring Devil i' the old play, that every one

6 The Devil was a prominent personage in the old Miracle-plays and Moral-plays. He was as turbulent, boisterous, and vainglorious as Pistol. Ho, ho! and Ah, ha! were among his stereotyped exclamations or roarings. The Vice used to belabour him with various indignities, and, among them, threaten to pare his nails with the dagger of lath; the Devil choosing to keep his claws long and sharp. See Twelfth Night, page 119, note 17.

may pare his nails with a wooden dagger; and they are both hang'd; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lacqueys, with the luggage of our camp: the French might have a good prey of us, if they knew of it; for there is none to guard it but boys.

[Exit.

SCENE V.-Another Part of the Field of Battle. Alarums. Enter the Constable, ORLEANS, BOURBON, the Dauphin, RAMBURES, and others.

Con., O diable!

Orl. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
Dau. Mort de ma vie !1 all is confounded, all!

Reproach, reproach and everlasting shame

Sit mocking in our plumes. O méchante fortune! —

Do not run away.

[A short alarum.
Con.
Why, all our ranks are broke. →
Dau. O pérdurable shame!-let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice?

Orl. Is this the King we sent to for his ransom?
Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
Let's die in honour: once more back again.

Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
Let us on heaps 2 go offer up our lives.

1 Ludicrous as these introductory scraps of French appear, so instantly followed by good, nervous mother-English, yet they are judicious, and produce the impression Shakespeare intended: a sudden feeling struck at once on the ears, as well as the eyes, of the audience, that "here come the French, the baffled French braggards!" And this will appear the more judicious, when we reflect on the scanty apparatus of distinguishing dresses in Shakespeare's tiring-room.-COLEridge.

2 On heaps is in crowds. Repeatedly so. See King Richard the Third, page 91, note 4.