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Chrish save me, law, in an hour. O tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tih ill done.

Flu. Captain Mackmorris, I befeech you now, will you vouchsafe me, look you, a few difputations 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 fatisfy my opinion; and partly for the fatisfaction, look you, of my mind; as touching the direction of the military discipline, that is the point.

Jany. It fall be very god, gud feith, gud captains baith; and I fall quit you with good leve, as I may pick occasion, that fall i, marry.

Mack. It is no time to discourse, fo Chrifh fave me: the day is hot, and the weather and the wars, and the King and the Duke ; it is not time to discourse, the town is beseech’d: and the trumpet calls us to the breach, and we talk, and by Chrifh do nothing, 'tis shame for us all; fo God fa' me, 'tis shame to stand still; it is fhame, by my hand; and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done, and there is nothing done, fo Chrifh fa' me,

law. Jamy. By the mess, ere theife eyes of mine take themselves to flomber, aile do gud service, or aile ligge i'th'ground for it; ay, or go to death ; and aile pay it as valorously as I may, that fall I surely do, the breff and the long; marry, I wad full fain heard some ques stion 'tween you tway.

Flu. Captain Mackmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of

Mack. Of my nation? what ish my nation ? ifh a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal? what ish my nation' who talks of my nation'

Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, Captain Mackmorris, peradventue I Thall 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 wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

Mack. I do not know you so good a man as myself; fo Chrish, save me, I will cut off your head.

Gawer,

your nation

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Gower. Gentlemen both, you mistake each other. Jamy. Au! that's a foul fault. [A parley foundede, Gower. The town sounds a parley.

Flui. Captain Mackmorris, when there is more petter opportunity to be requir’d, look you, I'll be so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war, and there's an end.

[Exeurt.

SCENE IV. Before the gates of Harfleur.

Enter King Henry and his train.
K. 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; as I'm a soldier,
(A name that, in my thoughts, becomes me best),
If I begin the batt'ry once again,
I will vot leave the half-atchieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The
gates

of
mercy

Thall 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 smirchț complexion all fell feats,
Inlink'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 wickedness,
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may, as bootless, spend our vain command
Upon th' enraged soldiers in their ipoil,
As send our precepts to th’ leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
While yet my soldiers are in my command;
While yet the cool and temp’rate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds

Of heady murther, spoil, and villany,
If not ; why, in a moment, look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul and
Defile the locks of your fhrill-thrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
While the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
Do break the clouds; as did the wives of Jewry,
At Herod's bloody-hunting flaughter-men.
What say you will you yield, and this avoid ?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd ?

Enter Governor upon the walls.
Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, of whom succours we intreated,
Returns us, that his pow'rs are not yet ready
To raise so great a fiege. 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.

K.Henry. Open your gates: come, uncle Exeter, Go you and enter Harfleur, there remain, And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French : Use mercy to them alí. For us, dear uncle, The winter coming on, and fickness growing Upon our soldiers, we'll retire to Calais. To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest, To-morrow for the march we are addreis'd.

[Flourish and enter the town *.

SCENE

are addressid,

[Flourish and enter the town, SCENE V.

The French court.
Enter Catharine, and an old Gentlewoman.
Cath. Alice, iu as ebé en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le language.
Alice. Un peu, Ma ame.

Caih Je le piie de m'enseigner ; il faut, que j'apprenne á parler. Como ment appellez vius la muin en Anglois.

Alice. La main, ell' eft appellée, de band.
Catn. De bond. Et le doyt?

Arice. Le doyz ? ma fry, je oublie le doyt ; mais je me souviendra le doyt ; je pense, qu'ils ont appellé acs forgres; ouy, de fingre, NA

Cath,

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Prefence-chamber in the French court. Enter the King of France, the Dauphin, Duke of

Bourbon, the Constable of France, and others.
Fr. King. 'Tis certain he hath pass’d the river Some,

Con. And if he be not fought withal, my Lord,
Let us not live in France ; let us quit all,
And give our vineyards to a barb'rous people.

Dau.

Cah. La main, de hand; le doyt, le fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon efolier. F, ay gaignée deux mots d' Anglois vistement ; comment appelo lez vous les ongles ?

Alice. Les ongles, les appellons de nayles.

Cath. De nayles. Escoutes: dites moy, ja je parle bien ; de band, de forte gres, de rayles.

Alice. C'est bien dit, Madame ; il est fort bon Anglois. Cath, Dires moy en Arglois, le bras. Alice. De arme, Madame. Cath, Et le coude, Alice. D'elbow. Cath. D'elbow: je m'en faitz la repetition de tous les mois, que vous m'avez apprins des a prefent.

Alice." Il est trop difficile, Madame, comme je pense.

Cath, Excuse moy, Alice; cfccutez ; d' band, de fingre, de nayles, d'arme, de bilbow.

Alice. D'elbow, Madame.

Cath. O Seigneur Dieu ! je m'en oublie d'elbow ; comment appellez vous le col.

Alice. De neck, Madime.
Cath. De neck; et le menton?

Alice. De obin.
· Cath. De fin : le col, de neck : ie menton, de fin.

Alice. Ouy. Sauf avoftre honreur, en vei ite, vous prononces les mots auf druici, que les natifs d'Angleterre.

Cath. Je re doute point d' apprendre par la grace de Dieu, et en peu de temps.

Alice. N'avez vous pas deja oublié ce que je vozis ay enfei, crée ?
Cath. Non je reciteray a vous prompten:ent ; d'band, de fingre, de mayles,
Alice. De nayles, Madame,
Cath. De nayles, de arme, de ilhotu.
Alice, Sauf votre bonneur, d elbow.

Cath. Ain'i, dis je d’elbow, de neck, de fin : comment appellez vous les fiets, et de robe?

Alice. Le foot, Madame, et le cun.

de arme.

Dau, o Dieu vivant ! shall a few fprays of us, (The emptying of our fathers' luxury.) Our cyons, put in wild and favage stock, Sprout up fo suddenly into the clouds, And overlook their grafters? Bour, Normans, but bastard Normans; Norman

bastards.
Mort de ma vie ! if thus they march along
Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
To buy a foggy and a dirty farm
In that nook-shotten isle of Albion *.
Con. Dieu de batailles ! why, whence have they this

mettle ?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull ?
On whom, as in despight, the fun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns ? can sodden water,
A drench for sur-reyn'd jades, their barley-broth,
Deco&t 'their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? Oh, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like frozen icicles
Upon our house-tops, while more frosty people
Sweat drops of gallant blood in our rich fields:
Poor (we may call them) in their native lords.

Dau. By faith and honour,
Our madams mock at us, and plaindy fay,
Our mettle is bred out : and they will give
Their bodies to the lust of Englith youth,
To new-store France with bastard warriors,

Bour. They bid us to the English dancing-schools,

Cath. Le foot, et le coun! O Seigneur Dieu ! ces sont des mots mauvais, corruptibles ei impudiques, et non pour les domas d'bonneur d ufer : je ne voudi ois pronor.cer ves mois devant les Seigneurs de France, pour tout le m n.de! il faut le foor, et le coun, nant-moins. Je reiteray une autrefois mu leçon enjembie; ditund, de fingre, de nayles, d'arme, d'elbou, de neck, de for, de fool, de coun.

Alice. Excellent, Madame,
Cath. C'est afiz pour une fois, allins nous en difner. [Exeunt.

SCENE, &c. * Sbotten fignifies any thing prejeEted: so we say, a shorten.berring, for a terring that haih cast irs spawn. So nookohorien ijle, is an isle that

cois cut into capes, promontories, ard necks of iand, the very figure of Great Britain. Nn 2

And

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