Poor miserable wretches, to your death:
The taste whereof, God of his mercy give
You patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear offences!-Bear them hence.

(Exeunt Cambridge, Scroop, & Grey, guarded.) Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.

We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason lurking in our way
To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
But every rub is smoothed on our way.

Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver
Our puissance into the hand of God,

Putting it straight in expedition.

Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:

No king of England, if not king of France. (Exeunt.)

SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. Enter Pistol, Hostess, Nym, Bardolph, and Boy.

HOSTESS.

Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.

PISTOL.

No; for my manly heart doth yearn.

Bardolph, be blithe:-Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:-
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yearn therefore.

BARDOLPH.

Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell!

HOSTESS.

Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, Sir John!' quoth I: 'what, man! be o' good cheer.' So a' cried out, God, God, God!' three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' should not think of

God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So a' bad me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils incarnate. HOSTESS.

A'could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked.

BOY.

A' said once, the devil would have him about women. HOSTESS.

A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. BOY.

Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire? BARDOLPH.

Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that's all the riches I got in his service.

NYM.

Shall we shog? the king will be gone from Southampton. PISTOL.

Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.

Look to my chattels and my movables:

Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:'

Trust none;

For oaths are straw, men's faiths are wafer-cakes
And hold-fast 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.

NYM.

(Kissing her.)

I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu.

PISTOL.

Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.

HOSTESS.

Farewell; adieu.

(Exeunt.)

Flourish.

Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes of Berri and

SCENE IV. France. The king's palace.

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 Bretagne,
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.

Oh, 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 captiv'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 stem

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 & certain Lords.)

You see this chase is hotly follow'd, 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 & train.)

FRENCH KING.

EXETER.

From our brother England?

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 borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven,
By law of nature and of nations, 'long
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,
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?