Orl. The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords![5110]
Dau. Montez à cheval! My horse! varlet! laquais! ha![5111][5112]
Enter Constable.[5111]
Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh![5111]
Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their hides,[5111]
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,[5111]10
And dout them with superfluous courage, ha![5111][5116]
Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?[5111]
How shall we, then, behold their natural tears?[5111]
Enter Messenger.[5111]
Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers.[5111][5117]
Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!15
Do but behold yon poor and starved band,
And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands;
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins20
To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,[5118]
That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
And sheathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,[5119]
The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,[5120]25
That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,
Who in unnecessary action swarm
About our squares of battle, were enow[5121]
To purge this field of such a hilding foe,
Though we upon this mountain's basis by30
Took stand for idle speculation:
But that our honours must not. What's to say?
A very little little let us do,
And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket sonance and the note to mount;[5122]35
For our approach shall so much dare the field
That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
Enter Grandpre.
Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
Ill-favouredly become the morning field:40
Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them passing scornfully:
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps:
The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,45
With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades[5123]
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,[5124]
The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes,
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit[5125]
Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless;50
And their executors, the knavish crows,
Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.[5126]
Description cannot suit itself in words
To demonstrate the life of such a battle[5127]
In life so lifeless as it shows itself.[5128]55
Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.[5129]
Dau. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits
And give their fasting horses provender,
And after fight with them?
Con. I stay but for my guidon: to the field![5130][5131]60
I will the banner from a trumpet take,[5130]
And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!
The sun is high, and we outwear the day. [Exeunt.
Scene III. The English camp.[5132]
Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham, with all this
host: Salisbury and Westmoreland.
Glou. Where is the king?
Bed. The king himself is rode to view their battle.
West. Of fighting men they have full three score thousand.
Exe. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.[5133]
Sal. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.5
God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge:[5134]
If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!10
Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!
Exe. Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:
And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,[5135]
For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.[5135]
[Exit Salisbury.[5136]
Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindness;15
Princely in both.
Enter the King.
West. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!
K. Hen. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:[5137]
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow[5138]20
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,[5139]
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;25
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:[5140]30
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more![5141]
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:40
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,[5142]
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,[5143]45
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'[5144]
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,[5145]
But he'll remember with advantages[5145]50
What feats he did that day: then shall our names,[5146]
Familiar in his mouth as household words,[5147]
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.55
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;60
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks[5148]
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Re-enter Salisbury.[5149]
Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles set,[5150]
And will with all expedience charge on us.70
K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so.
West. Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?[5151]
West. God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, could fight this royal battle![5152]75
K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;[5153]
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
You know your places: God be with you all!
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,[5154]
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,80
Before thy most assured overthrow:
For certainly thou art so near the gulf,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,[5155]
The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls85
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.
K. Hen. Who hath sent thee now?
Mont. The Constable of France.
K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back:90
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt[5156]95
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day's work:
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet them,100
And draw their honours reeking up to heaven;
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valour in our English,[5157][5158]
That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,[5157][5159]105
Break out into a second course of mischief,[5157]
Killing in relapse of mortality.[5157][5160]
Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
We are but warriors for the working-day;
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd110
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There's not a piece of feather in our host—
Good argument, I hope, we will not fly—
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;115
And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck[5161]
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
And turn them out of service. If they do this,—[5162]
As, if God please, they shall,—my ransom then[5163]120
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;[5164]
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,[5165]
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.[5166]125
Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more. [Exit.
K. Hen. I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.[5167]
Enter York.
York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.130
K. Hen. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day! [Exeunt.
Scene IV. The field of battle.[5168]
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistol, French Soldier, and Boy.
Pist. Yield, cur!
Fr. Sol. Je pense que vous êtes gentilhomme de bonne[5169]
qualité.
Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman?[5170]
what is thy name? discuss.5
Fr. Sol. O Seigneur Dieu!
Pist. O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman:[5171]
Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark;[5171]
O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,[5171][5172]
Except, O signieur, thou do give to me[5171]10
Egregious ransom.[5171]
Fr. Sol. O, prenez miséricorde! ayez pitié de moi!
Pist. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;[5173]
Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat[5173][5174]
In drops of crimson blood.[5173]15
Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'échapper la force de ton
bras?
Pist. Brass, cur![5175]
Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,[5175]
Offer'st me brass?[5175]20
Fr. Sol. O pardonnez moi!
Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?[5176]
Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French[5176]
What is his name.[5176]
Boy. Écoutez: comment êtes-vous appelé?25
Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer.
Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.
Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret
him: discuss the same in French unto him.
Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and30
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 prèt; car ce soldat ici est disposé tout à cette heure[5177]35
de couper votre gorge.
Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,[5178]
Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;[5178][5179]
Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.[5178]
Fr. Sol. O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me40
pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison: gardez[5180]
ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents écus.
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 two45
hundred crowns.
Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I[5181]
The crowns will take.[5181]
Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
Boy. Encore qu'il est centre son jurement de pardonner50
aucun prisonnier, néanmoins, pour les écus que vous
l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la liberté, le
franchisement.
Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercîmens;
et je m'estime heureux que je suis tombé entre les[5182]55
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[5183]60
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.[5184]
Follow me![5185]
Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. [Exeunt Pistol,[5186]65
and French Soldier.] I did never know so full a voice[5187]
issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is true, 'The[5188]
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 may pare his nails with a[5189]70
wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so would[5190]
this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must
stay with the lackeys, with the luggage of our camp: the
French might have a good prey of us, if he knew of it; for[5191]
there is none to guard it but boys. [Exit.75
Scene V. Another part of the field.
Enter Constable, Orleans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and Rambures.[5192]
Con. O diable!
Orl. O seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
Dau. Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all![5193]
Reproach and everlasting shame[5194]
Sits mocking in our plumes. O méchante fortune![5195]5
Do not run away.[5195] [A short alarum.
Con. Why, all our ranks are broke.
Dau. O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
Bour. Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame!10
Let us die in honour: once more back again;[5196]
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,[5197]
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand,
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,[5198]15
His fairest daughter is contaminated.[5199]
Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.[5200]
Orl. We are enow yet living in the field[5201]
To smother up the English in our throngs,20
If any order might be thought upon.
Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:
Let life be short; else shame will be too long. [Exeunt.
Scene VI. Another part of the field.
Alarums. Enter King Henry and forces, Exeter, and others.[5202]
K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen:
But all's not done; yet keep the French the field.[5203]
Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.
K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour
I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;5
From helmet to the spur all blood he was.[5204]
Exe. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,[5205]
Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.10
Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
And cries aloud 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk![5206]15
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven;[5207]
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our chivalry!'
Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up:20
He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,[5208]
And, with a feeble gripe, says 'Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.'
So did he turn and over Suffolk's neck
He threw his wounded arm and kiss'd his lips;25
And so espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.[5209]
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;
But I had not so much of man in me,30
And all my mother came into mine eyes[5210]
and gave me up to tears.
K. Hen. I blame you not;
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.[5211] [Alarum.
But, hark! what new alarum is this same?[5212]35
The French have reinforced their scatter'd men:[5213][5214]
Then every soldier kill his prisoners;[5213][5215]
Give the word through. [Exeunt.[5216]
Scene VII. Another part of the field.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.[5217]