No More Learning

The word is 'Pitch and Pay. '
Trust none;
For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
And Holdfast is the only dog, my duck.
Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.
Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
Let us to France, like horse-leeches, my boys,
To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck.
BOY. And that's but unwholesome food, they say.
PISTOL. Touch her soft mouth and march.
BARDOLPH. Farewell, hostess. [Kissing her]
NYM. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but adieu.
PISTOL. Let housewifery appear; keep close, I thee command.
HOSTESS. Farewell; adieu. Exeunt




SCENE IV.
France. The KING'S palace

Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES OF BERRI
and BRITAINE, the CONSTABLE, and others

FRENCH KING. Thus comes the English with full power upon us;
And more than carefully it us concerns
To answer royally in our defences.
Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Britaine,
Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,
And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch,
To line and new repair our towns of war
With men of courage and with means defendant;
For England his approaches makes as fierce
As waters to the sucking of a gulf.
It fits us, then, to be as provident
As fear may teach us, out of late examples
Left by the fatal and neglected English
Upon our fields.
DAUPHIN. My most redoubted father,
It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe;
For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,
Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,
But that defences, musters, preparations,
Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected,
As were a war in expectation.
Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth
To view the sick and feeble parts of France;
And let us do it with no show of fear-
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance;
For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd,
Her sceptre so fantastically borne
By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,
That fear attends her not.
CONSTABLE. O peace, Prince Dauphin!
You are too much mistaken in this king.
Question your Grace the late ambassadors
With what great state he heard their embassy,
How well supplied with noble counsellors,
How modest in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution,
And you shall find his vanities forespent
Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
Covering discretion with a coat of folly;
As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring and be most delicate.
DAUPHIN. Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable;
But though we think it so, it is no matter.
In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
The enemy more mighty than he seems;
So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
Which of a weak and niggardly projection
Doth like a miser spoil his coat with scanting
A little cloth.
FRENCH KING. Think we King Harry strong;
And, Princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
And he is bred out of that bloody strain
That haunted us in our familiar paths.
Witness our too much memorable shame
When Cressy battle fatally was struck,
And all our princes capdv'd by the hand
Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales;
Whiles that his mountain sire- on mountain standing,
Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun-
Saw his heroical seed, and smil'd to see him,
Mangle the work of nature, and deface
The patterns that by God and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made. This is a stern
Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him.

Enter a MESSENGER

MESSENGER. Ambassadors from Harry King of England
Do crave admittance to your Majesty.
FRENCH KING. We'll give them present audience. Go and bring them.
Exeunt MESSENGER and certain LORDS
You see this chase is hotly followed, friends.
DAUPHIN. Turn head and stop pursuit; for coward dogs
Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten
Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
Take up the English short, and let them know
Of what a monarchy you are the head.
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
As self-neglecting.

Re-enter LORDS, with EXETER and train

FRENCH KING. From our brother of England?
EXETER. From him, and thus he greets your Majesty:
He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
That you divest yourself, and lay apart
The borrowed glories that by gift of heaven,
By law of nature and of nations, 'longs
To him and to his heirs- namely, the crown,
And all wide-stretched honours that pertain,
By custom and the ordinance of times,
Unto the crown of France. That you may know
'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,
Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd,
He sends you this most memorable line, [Gives a paper]
In every branch truly demonstrative;
Willing you overlook this pedigree.
And when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his most fam'd of famous ancestors,
Edward the Third, he bids you then resign
Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
From him, the native and true challenger.
FRENCH KING. Or else what follows?
EXETER. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,
That if requiring fail, he will compel;
And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the crown; and to take mercy
On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head
Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
The dead men's blood, the privy maidens' groans,
For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers,
That shall be swallowed in this controversy.
This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message;
Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
To whom expressly I bring greeting too.
FRENCH KING. For us, we will consider of this further;
To-morrow shall you bear our full intent
Back to our brother of England.
DAUPHIN. For the Dauphin:
I stand here for him. What to him from England?
EXETER. Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt,
And anything that may not misbecome
The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.
Thus says my king: an if your father's Highness
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty,
He'll call you to so hot an answer of it
That caves and womby vaultages of France
Shall chide your trespass and return your mock
In second accent of his ordinance.
DAUPHIN. Say, if my father render fair return,
It is against my will; for I desire
Nothing but odds with England. To that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity,
I did present him with the Paris balls.
EXETER. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe;
And be assur'd you'll find a difference,
As we his subjects have in wonder found,
Between the promise of his greener days
And these he masters now. Now he weighs time
Even to the utmost grain; that you shall read
In your own losses, if he stay in France.
FRENCH KING. To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.
EXETER. Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
Come here himself to question our delay;
For he is footed in this land already.
FRENCH KING. You shall be soon dispatch'd with fair conditions.
A night is but small breath and little pause
To answer matters of this consequence. Flourish. Exeunt




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ACT III. PROLOGUE.

Flourish. Enter CHORUS

CHORUS. Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
The well-appointed King at Hampton pier
Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young Phorbus fanning.
Play with your fancies; and in them behold
Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails,
Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,
Breasting the lofty surge. O, do but think
You stand upon the rivage and behold
A city on th' inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy
And leave your England as dead midnight still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
Either past or not arriv'd to pith and puissance;
For who is he whose chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing hair that will not follow
These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege;
Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose th' ambassador from the French comes back;
Tells Harry that the King doth offer him
Katherine his daughter, and with her to dowry
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
[Alarum, and chambers go off]
And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind. Exit




<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC. , AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
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SCENE I.
France. Before Harfleur

Alarum. Enter the KING, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER,
and soldiers with scaling-ladders

KING. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger:
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon: let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof-
Fathers that like so many Alexanders
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding- which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit; and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George! '
[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off]




SCENE II.
Before Harfleur

Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and BOY

BARDOLPH. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
NYM. Pray thee, Corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot, and for
mine own part I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too
hot; that is the very plain-song of it.
PISTOL. The plain-song is most just; for humours do abound:

Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield
In bloody field
Doth win immortal fame.

BOY. Would I were in an alehouse in London! I wouid give all my
fame for a pot of ale and safety.
PISTOL. And I:

If wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.

BOY. As duly, but not as truly,
As bird doth sing on bough.

Enter FLUELLEN

FLUELLEN. Up to the breach, you dogs!
Avaunt, you cullions! [Driving them forward]
PISTOL. Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage;
Abate thy rage, great duke.
Good bawcock, bate thy rage. Use lenity, sweet chuck.
NYM. These be good humours. Your honour wins bad humours.
Exeunt all but BOY
BOY. As young as I am, I have observ'd these three swashers. I am
boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would
serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do
not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and
red-fac'd; by the means whereof 'a faces it out, but fights not.
For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the
means whereof 'a breaks words and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,
he hath heard that men of few words are the best men, and
therefore he scorns to say his prayers lest 'a should be thought
a coward; but his few bad words are match'd with as few good
deeds; for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that
was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything,
and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve
leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are
sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a
fire-shovel; I knew by that piece of service the men would carry
coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their
gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my
manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine;
for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and
seek some better service; their villainy goes against my weak
stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. Exit

Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following

GOWER. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the
Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.
FLUELLEN. To the mines! Tell you the Duke it is not so good to come
to the mines; for, look you, the mines is not according to the
disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient.
For, look you, th' athversary- you may discuss unto the Duke,
look you- is digt himself four yard under the countermines; by
Cheshu, I think 'a will plow up all, if there is not better
directions.
GOWER. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is
given, is altogether directed by an Irishman- a very vallant
gentleman, i' faith.
FLUELLEN. It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?
GOWER. I think it be.
FLUELLEN. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will verify
as much in his beard; he has no more directions in the true
disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than
is a puppy-dog.

Enter MACMORRIS and CAPTAIN JAMY

GOWER. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with
him.
FLUELLEN. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is
certain, and of great expedition and knowledge in th' aunchient
wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu,
he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the
world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.
JAMY. I say gud day, Captain Fluellen.
FLUELLEN. God-den to your worship, good Captain James.
GOWER. How now, Captain Macmorris! Have you quit the mines? Have
the pioneers given o'er?
MACMORRIS. By Chrish, la, tish ill done! The work ish give over,
the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and my
father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over; I would
have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O,
tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!
FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you voutsafe
me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or
concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way
of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to
satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of
my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline,
that is the point.
JAMY. It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath; and I sall
quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I,
marry.
MACMORRIS. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day
is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the King, and the
Dukes; it is no time to discourse. The town is beseech'd, and the
trumpet call us to the breach; and we talk and, be Chrish, do
nothing. 'Tis shame for us all, so God sa' me, 'tis shame to
stand still; it is shame, by my hand; and there is throats to be
cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish
sa' me, la.
JAMY. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to
slomber, ay'll de gud service, or I'll lig i' th' grund for it;
ay, or go to death.
And I'll pay't as valorously as I may, that
sall I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad
full fain heard some question 'tween you tway.
FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your
correction, there is not many of your nation-
MACMORRIS. Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a
bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish my nation? Who talks
of my nation?
FLUELLEN. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant,
Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me
with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look
you; being as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of
war and in the derivation of my birth, and in other
particularities.
MACMORRIS. I do not know you so good a man as myself; so
Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
GOWER. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
JAMY. Ah! that's a foul fault. [A parley sounded]
GOWER. The town sounds a parley.
FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity
to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know
the disciplines of war; and there is an end. Exeunt




SCENE III.
Before the gates of Harfleur

Enter the GOVERNOR and some citizens on the walls. Enter the KING
and all his train before the gates

KING HENRY. How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will 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,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the batt'ry once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
What is it then to me if impious war,
Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickednes
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil,
As send precepts to the Leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
If not- why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
GOVERNOR. Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succours we entreated,
Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great King,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.
KING HENRY. Open your gates. [Exit GOVERNOR] Come, uncle Exeter,
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French;
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
[Flourish. The KING and his train enter the town]




SCENE IV.
Rouen. The FRENCH KING'S palace

Enter KATHERINE and ALICE

KATHERINE. Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le
langage.
ALICE. Un peu, madame.
KATHERINE. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne a
parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglais?
ALICE. La main? Elle est appelee de hand.
KATHERINE. De hand. Et les doigts?
ALICE. Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me
souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appeles de fingres;
oui, de fingres.
KATHERINE. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que
je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots d'Anglais vitement.
Comment appelez-vous les ongles?
ALICE. Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails.
KATHERINE. De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi si je parle bien: de hand,
de fingres, et de nails.
ALICE. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglais.
KATHERINE. Dites-moi l'Anglais pour le bras.
ALICE. De arm, madame.
KATHERINE. Et le coude?
ALICE. D'elbow.
KATHERINE. D'elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les mots que
vous m'avez appris des a present.
ALICE. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.
KATHERINE. Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: d'hand, de fingre, de
nails, d'arma, de bilbow.
ALICE. D'elbow, madame.
KATHERINE. O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow.
Comment appelez-vous le col?
ALICE. De nick, madame.
KATHERINE. De nick. Et le menton?
ALICE. De chin.
KATHERINE. De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin.
ALICE. Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez les mots
aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.
KATHERINE. Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, et
en peu de temps.
ALICE. N'avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?
KATHERINE. Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: d'hand, de fingre,
de mails-
ALICE. De nails, madame.
KATHERINE. De nails, de arm, de ilbow.
ALICE. Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.
KATHERINE. Ainsi dis-je; d'elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment
appelez-vous le pied et la robe?
ALICE. Le foot, madame; et le count.
KATHERINE. Le foot et le count. O Seigneur Dieu! ils sont mots de
son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les
dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant
les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le
count! 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.