Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for? Let us die instant Once more back again; Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now! Let us, in heaps, go offer up our lives Unto these English, or else die with fame. 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. SCENE VI. [Exeunt. Another Part of the Field. Alarums. Enter King HENRY and Forces; ExETER, and Others. K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice-valiant coun trymen : But all's not done, yet keep the French the field. Exe. The duke of York commends him to your majesty. 2 i. e. Who has no more gentility. K. IIen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice, within this hour, I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting; From helmet to the spur, all blood he was. Exe. In which array, (brave soldier,) doth he lie, Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over, Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up: So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips; The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd But all my mother came into mine eyes, K. Hen. I blame you not; 3 Reached. For, hearing this, I must perforce compound But, hark! what new alarum is this same ?- Give the word through. Alarums. SCENE VII. Another Part of the Field. [Exeunt. Enter FLUELLEN and GoWER. Flu. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offered, in the 'orld: In your conscience now, is it not? Gow. "Tis certain, there's not a boy left alive; and the cowardly rascals, that ran from the battle, have done this slaughter: besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the king's tent; wherefore the king, most worthily, hath caused every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a gallant king! Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, captain Gower: What call you the town's name, where Alexander the pig was born? Gow. Alexander the great. Flu. Why, I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations. Gow. I think, Alexander the great was born in Macedon; his father was called-Philip of Macedon, as I take it. Flu. I think, it is in Macedon, where Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain,-If you look in the maps of the 'orld, I warrant, you shall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth: it is called Wye, at Monmouth: but it is out of my prains, what is the name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things. Alexander (God knows, and you know,) in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Clytus. Gow. Our king is not like him in that; he never killed any of his friends. Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take tales out of my mouth, ere it is made an end and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: As Alexander is kill his friend Clytus, being in his ales and his cups; so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his goot judgments, is turn away the fat knight with the great pelly-doublet: he was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I am forget his name. Gow. Sir John Falstaff. Flu. That is he: I can tell you, there is goot men born at Monmouth. Gow. Here comes his majesty. Alarum. Enter King HENRY, with a Part of the English Forces; WARWICK, GLOSTER, EXETER, and Others. K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Enter MONTJOY. Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege. Glo. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be. K. Hẹn. How now, what means this, herald? know'st thou not, That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransome? Com'st thou again for ransome? Mont. No, great king: I come to thee for charitable licence, That we may wander o'er this bloody field, 4 Scour. |