No More Learning

Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon ensemble:
d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de nick, de sin, de
foot, le count.
ALICE. Excellent, madame!
KATHERINE. C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.
Exeunt




SCENE V.
The FRENCH KING'S palace

Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, DUKE OF BRITAINE,
the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, and others

FRENCH KING. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
CONSTABLE. And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
Let us not live in France; let us quit an,
And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
DAUPHIN. O Dieu vivant! Shall a few sprays of us,
The emptying of our fathers' luxury,
Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
And overlook their grafters?
BRITAINE. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!
Mort Dieu, ma vie! if they march along
Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom
To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm
In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
CONSTABLE. Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull;
On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping icicles
Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people
Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields-
Poor we call them in their native lords!
DAUPHIN. By faith and honour,
Our madams mock at us and plainly say
Our mettle is bred out, and they will give
Their bodies to the lust of English youth
To new-store France with bastard warriors.
BRITAINE. They bid us to the English dancing-schools
And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,
Saying our grace is only in our heels
And that we are most lofty runaways.
FRENCH KING. Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence;
Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.
Up, Princes, and, with spirit of honour edged
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;
You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri,
Alengon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconbridge,
Foix, Lestrake, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights,
For your great seats now quit you of great shames.
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur.
Rush on his host as doth the melted snow
Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon;
Go down upon him, you have power enough,
And in a captive chariot into Rouen
Bring him our prisoner.
CONSTABLE. This becomes the great.
Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march;
For I am sure, when he shall see our army,
He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
And for achievement offer us his ransom.
FRENCH KING. Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy,
And let him say to England that we send
To know what willing ransom he will give.
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
DAUPHIN. Not so, I do beseech your Majesty.
FRENCH KING. Be patient, for you shall remain with us.
Now forth, Lord Constable and Princes all,
And quickly bring us word of England's fall. Exeunt




SCENE VI.
The English camp in Picardy

Enter CAPTAINS, English and Welsh, GOWER and FLUELLEN

GOWER. How now, Captain Fluellen! Come you from the bridge?
FLUELLEN. I assure you there is very excellent services committed
at the bridge.
GOWER. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
FLUELLEN. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a
man that I love and honour 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 blessed! - any hurt in the world, but
keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There
is an aunchient Lieutenant there at the bridge- I think in my
very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is
man of no estimation in the world; but I did see him do as
gallant service.
GOWER. What do you call him?
FLUELLEN. He is call'd Aunchient Pistol.
GOWER. I know him not.

Enter PISTOL

FLUELLEN. Here is the man.
PISTOL. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours.
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
FLUELLEN. Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his
hands.
PISTOL. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
And of buxom valour, 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 painted
blind, with a muffler afore her 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 spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and
rolls. 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 stol'n a pax, and hanged must 'a be-
A damned death!
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 penny 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.
FLUELLEN. 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 damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!
FLUELLEN. It is well.
PISTOL. The fig of Spain! Exit
FLUELLEN. Very good.
GOWER. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I remember him
now- a bawd, a cutpurse.
FLUELLEN. I'll assure you, 'a utt'red 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 then 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
convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, 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 among foaming bottles and ale-wash'd wits is wonderful to be
thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age,
or else you may be marvellously mistook.
FLUELLEN. I tell you what, Captain Gower, I do perceive he 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.

Drum and colours. Enter the KING and his poor soldiers,
and GLOUCESTER

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 maintain'd the pridge; the French is gone 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.
KING 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, if your Majesty know the man; his face is
all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o' fire; 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.
KING 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 compell'd from the villages, nothing taken but paid
for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful
language; for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom the
gentler gamester is the soonest winner.

Tucket. Enter MONTJOY

MONTJOY. You know me by my habit.
KING HENRY. Well then, I know thee; what shall I know of thee?
MONTJOY. My master's mind.
KING HENRY. Unfold it.
MONTJOY. Thus says my king. Say thou to Harry of England: Though we
seem'd dead we did but sleep; advantage is a better soldier than
rashness. Tell him we could have rebuk'd 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 weakness, 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 too
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 condemnation is pronounc'd. So far my king and
master; so much my office.
KING HENRY. What is thy name? I know thy quality.
MONTJOY. Montjoy.
KING HENRY. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
And tell thy king I do not seek him now,
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment; for, to say the sooth-
Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage-
My people are with sickness much enfeebled;
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have
Almost no better than so many French;
Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God,
That I do brag thus; this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am;
My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army but a weak and sickly guard;
Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himself and such another neighbour
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.
Go, bid thy master well advise himself.
If we may pass, we will; if we be hind'red,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour; and so, Montjoy, fare you well.
The sum of all our answer is but this:
We would not seek a battle as we are;
Nor as we are, we say, we will not shun it.
So tell your master.
MONTJOY. I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness. Exit
GLOUCESTER. I hope they will not come upon us now.
KING HENRY. We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.
March to the bridge, it now draws toward night;
Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves,
And on to-morrow bid them march away. Exeunt




SCENE VII.
The French camp near Agincourt

Enter the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, the LORD RAMBURES, the DUKE OF ORLEANS,
the DAUPHIN, with others

CONSTABLE. Tut! I have the best armour of the world.
Would it were day!
ORLEANS. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his
due.
CONSTABLE. It is the best horse of Europe.
ORLEANS. Will it never be morning?
DAUPHIN. My Lord of Orleans and my Lord High Constable, you talk of
horse and armour?
ORLEANS. You are as well provided of both as any prince in the
world.
DAUPHIN. What a long night is this! I will not change my horse with
any that treads but on four pasterns. Ca, ha! he bounds from the
earth as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the
Pegasus, chez les narines de feu! 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.
ORLEANS. He's of the colour of the nutmeg.
DAUPHIN. 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 beasts.
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 homage.
ORLEANS. 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 fluent 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 and wonder at
him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus: 'Wonder
of nature'-
ORLEANS. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
DAUPHIN. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd to my courser;
for my horse is my mistress.
ORLEANS. 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 shrewdly
shook your back.
DAUPHIN. So perhaps did yours.
CONSTABLE. Mine was not bridled.
DAUPHIN. O, then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode like a
kern of Ireland, your French hose off and in your strait
strossers.
CONSTABLE. You have good judgment in horsemanship.
DAUPHIN. Be warn'd by me, then: they that ride so, and ride not
warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have my 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 sow to
my mistress.
DAUPHIN. 'Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et la
truie lavee au bourbier. ' Thou mak'st use of anything.
CONSTABLE. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any such
proverb so little kin to the purpose.
RAMBURES. My Lord Constable, the armour that I saw in your tent
to-night- are those stars or suns upon it?
CONSTABLE. Stars, my lord.
DAUPHIN. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.
CONSTABLE. And yet my sky shall not want.
DAUPHIN. That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and 'twere
more honour some were away.
CONSTABLE. Ev'n as your horse bears your praises, who would trot as
well were some of your brags dismounted.
DAUPHIN. Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will it
never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile, and my way shall be
paved with English faces.
CONSTABLE. I will not say so, for fear I should be fac'd out of my
way; but I would it were morning, for I would fain 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.
DAUPHIN. 'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself. Exit
ORLEANS. The Dauphin longs for morning.
RAMBURES. He longs to eat the English.
CONSTABLE. I think he will eat all he kills.
ORLEANS. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.
CONSTABLE. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.
ORLEANS. He is simply the most active gentleman of France.
CONSTABLE. Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.
ORLEANS. He never did harm that I heard of.
CONSTABLE. Nor will do none to-morrow: he will keep that good name
still.
ORLEANS. I know him to be valiant.
CONSTABLE. I was told that by one that knows him better than you.
ORLEANS. What's he?
CONSTABLE. Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he car'd not
who knew it.
ORLEANS. 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 valour, and when it appears it will bate.
ORLEANS. Ill-wind never said well.
CONSTABLE. I will cap that proverb with 'There is flattery in
friendship. '
ORLEANS. And I will take up that with 'Give the devil his due. '
CONSTABLE. Well plac'd! There stands your friend for the devil;
have at the very eye of that proverb with 'A pox of the devil! '
ORLEANS. You are the better at proverbs by how much 'A fool's bolt
is soon shot. '
CONSTABLE. You have shot over.
ORLEANS. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.

Enter a MESSENGER

MESSENGER. My Lord High Constable, the English lie within fifteen
hundred paces of your tents.
CONSTABLE. Who hath measur'd the ground?
MESSENGER. The Lord Grandpre.
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.
ORLEANS. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this King of
England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so far out of his
knowledge!
CONSTABLE. If the English had any apprehension, they would run
away.
ORLEANS. That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual
armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.
RAMBURES. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures;
their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.
ORLEANS. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian
bear, and have their heads crush'd like rotten apples! You may as
well say that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the
lip of a lion.
CONSTABLE. Just, just! and the men do sympathise 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 will eat like wolves and fight like devils.
ORLEANS. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.
CONSTABLE. Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs to
eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm. Come, shall we
about it?
ORLEANS. It is now two o'clock; but let me see- by ten
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. Exeunt




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ACT IV. PROLOGUE.

Enter CHORUS

CHORUS. Now entertain conjecture of a time
When creeping murmur and the poring dark
Fills 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 sentinels 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 dreadful note of preparation.
The country cocks do crow, the clocks do ton,
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 he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night;
But freshly looks, and over-bears 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, that mean and gentle all
Behold, as may unworthiness define,
A little touch of Harry in the night.
And so our scene must to the battle fly;
Where- O for pity! - we shall much disgrace
With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
Right ill-dispos'd in brawl ridiculous,
The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
Minding true things by what their mock'ries be. Exit




SCENE I.
France. The English camp at Agincourt

Enter the KING, BEDFORD, and GLOUCESTER

KING HENRY. Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
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
And preachers to us all, admonishing
That we should dress us 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 Erpingham:
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.
ERPINGHAM. Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better,
Since I may say 'Now lie I like a king. '
KING HENRY. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains
Upon example; so the spirit is eased;
And when the mind is quick'ned, 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 cloak, 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.
GLOUCESTER. We shall, my liege.
ERPINGHAM. Shall I attend your Grace?
KING HENRY. No, my good knight:
Go with my brothers to my lords of England;
I and my bosom must debate awhile,
And then I would no other company.
ERPINGHAM. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
Exeunt all but the KING
KING HENRY. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.

Enter PISTOL

PISTOL. Qui va la?
KING HENRY. A friend.
PISTOL. 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?
PISTOL. As good a gentleman as the Emperor.
KING HENRY. Then you are a better than the King.
PISTOL.