"Steed threatens fteed, 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 toll: "And, (the third hour of drowsy morning nam'd), Proud of their numbers and fecure in foul, The confident and over-lufty French Do the low-rated English play at dice *; And chide the cripple tardy-gated Night, Who, like a foul and ugly witch, does limp So tedioufly away. "The poor condemned English, "Like facrifices, by their watchful fires "Sit patiently, and inly ruminate "The morning's danger: and their gefture fad, "Inveft in lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats, "Prefented them unto the gazing moon "So many horrid ghofts. Who now beholds "The Royal Captain of this ruin'd band Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent, How dread in army hath inrounded him ; His lib'ral eye doth give to ev'ry one, A little touch of Harry in the night, i. e. do play them away at cice. (Right ill difpos'd, in brawl ridiculous), The name of Agincourt. Yet fit and fee, Minding true things by what their mock'ries be. [Exit, SCENE II. The English camp at Agincourt. Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloucester. K. Henry. Glou'fter, 'tis true that we are in great danger; The greater therefore fhould our courage be. For our bad neighbour makes us early ftirrers; Enter Erpingham. Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham: Erping. Not fo, my Liege this lodging likes me Since I may fay, Now lie I like a King. [better; K. Henry. 'Tis good for men to love their prefent pain Upon example; fo the fpirit is eafed : And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas: brothers both, Glou. We fhall, my Liege. Erping. Shall I attend your Grace! Soul, for fpirit, tise, address, Go Go with my brothers to my Lords of England. And then I would no other company. Erping. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry! [Exeunt. K. Henry. God-a-mercy, old heart, thou fpeak'ft chearfully. CENE III. Enter Pistol. Pift. Qui va là ? R. Henry. A friend. Pift. Difcufs unto me, art thou officer, K. Henry. Even fo. What are you ? Pift. As good a gentleman as the Emperor. K. Henry. Then you are a better than the King. Pift. The King's a bawcock, and a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp of fame, Of parents good, of fist most valiant. I kifs his dirty fhoe, and from my heart-ftring K. Henry. Harry le Roy. Pift. Le Roy! a Cornifh name; art thou of Cornish crew? K. Henry. No; I am a Welchman. Pift. Know'st thou Fluellen? K. Henry. Yes. Pist. Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate Úpon St. David's day. K. Henry. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, left he knock that about your's. Pift. Art thou his friend? K. Henry. And his kinsman too. Pift. The Figo for thee then! K. Henry. I thank you. God be with you. [Exit. K. Henry. It forts well with your fierceness. [Manet K. Henry. Enter Enter Fluellen, and Gower, feverally. Gor. Captain Fluellen. Flu. So; in the name of Chefhu Chrift, fpeak fewer. It is the greatest admiration in the univerfal world when the true and antient prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept. If you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle taddle, nor pibble pabble, in Pompey's camp. I warrant you, you fhall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the fobrieties of it, and the modefty of it, to be otherwise. Gow. Why, the enemy is loud, you hear him all night. Flu. If the enemy is an afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is is meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, in your own confcience now ? Gow. I will fpeak lower. Flu. I pray you, and befeech you, that you will. [Exeunt. K. Henry. Though it appear a little out of fainion, There is much care and valour in this Welchman. Enter three foldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams. Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder? Bates. I think it be; but we have no great cause to defire the approach of day. Will. We fee yonder the beginning of the day; but I think we shall never fee the end of it. Who goes there? K. Henry. A friend. Will. Under what captain ferve you? K. Henry, Under Sir Thomas Erpingham. Will. A good old commander, and a moit kind gentleman. I pray you, what thinks he of our eítate. VOL. IV. P P K. Henry. K. Henry. Even as men wreck'd upon a fand, that look to be wafh'd off the next tide. Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King? K. Henry. No; nor is it meet he fhould: for though I fpeak it to you, I think the King is but a man as I "The violet fmells to him as it doth to me; the "element fhews to him as it doth to me; all his fenfes "have but human conditions. His ceremonies laid "by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and tho' am. his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet "when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing: "therefore, when he fees reafon of fears as we do, his "fears, out of doubt, be of the fame relish as ours are:" yet in reafon no man fhould poffefs him with any appearance of fear, left he, by fhewing it, fhould difhearten his army. Bates." He may fhew what outward courage he "will: but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could "with himself in the Thames up to the neck, and fo "I would he were, and I by him at all adventures, so "we were quit here." K. Henry. By my troth, I will speak my confcience of the King. I think he would not wish himself any where but where he is. Bates. Then would he were here alone; fo fhould he be fure to be ransomed, and many poor mens' lives faved. K. Henry. I dare fay, you love him not fo ill to wish him here alone, howfoever you speak this to feel other men's minds. Methinks I could not die any where fo contented as in the King's company, his caufe being juft, and his quarrel honourable. Will. That's more than we know. for Bates. Ay, or more than we should seek after; we know enough, if we know we are the King's fubjects: if his caufe be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us.. Will. But if the caufe be not good, the King himfelf hath a heavy reckoning to make; when all those legs, and arms, and heads, chopp'd off in a battle, fhall join together at the latter day, and cry all, We dy'd at fuch a place; "fome, fwearing; fome, crying for a fur66 'geon; |