“ Steed threatens steed, 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 secure 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 tediously away; “ The poor condemned English,
“ Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
“ Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
“ The morning's danger: and their gesture fad,
• Invest in lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,
" Presented them unto the gazing moon
“ So many horrid ghosts. Who now beholds
" The Royal Captain of this ruin'd band

Walking from watch 10 watch, from tent to tent,
« Let him cry, Praise and glory on his head !
For forth he goes, and visits all his holt,
Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen,
Upon his royal face there is no note,
How dread in army hath inrounded him ;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night:
But freshly looks and over-bears attaint,
With chearful femblance and sweet majesty;
That ev'ry wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
A largess universal, like the fun,
His lib'ral eye doth give to ev'ry one,
Thawing cold fear. Then, mean and gentle, all
Behold (as may unworthiness define)
A little touch of Harry in the night,
And fo our scene must to the battle fly :
Where, O for pity! we shall much disgrace,
With four or five most vile and'ragged foils,
i. a do play them away at cice.

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(Right ill dispos’d, in brawl ridiculous),
The name of Agincourt. Yet fit and see,
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'ster, 'tis true that we are in great

danger ;
The greater therefore should our courage be.
Good morrow, brother Bedford : God Almighty !
“ There is some foul * of goodness in things evil,
" Would men observingly distil it out.
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers;
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry.
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all; admonishing,
That we should dress + us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself,

Enter Erpingham.
Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlith turff of France.

Erping. Not so, 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 present pain
Upon example; so the spirit is eafed :
And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt,
The organs, thorgb defunct and dead before,

their drowsy grave, and newly move
With casted dough and fresh celerity.
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas : brothers both,
Commend me to the princes in our camp.
Do my good morrow to them, and anon
Defire them all to my pavilion.

Glou. We shall, my Liege.
Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
K. Henry. No, my good Knight;

Snul, for spirit,
tiis address,



Go with my brothers to my Lords of England.
I and my bosom must debate a while,
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 speak’st


SCENE III. Enter Pistol.
Pift. Qui va ?
K. Henry. A friend.

Pift. Discuss unto me, art thou officer,
Or art thou' base, common, and popular?

K. Henry. I am a gentleman of a company.
Pift. Trail'ft thou the puissant pike?
K. Henry. Even so. 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 kiss his dirty thoe, and from my heart-string
I love the lovely bully. What's thy name?

K. Henry. Harry le Roy.
Pift. Le Roy! a Cornish name; art thou of Cornih

crew ?
K. Henry. No; I am a Welchman.
Pift. Know'st thou Fluellen?
K. Henry. Yes.

Pift. Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate
Upon 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 ?
X. Henry. And his kinsman too.
Pift. The Figo for thee then!
K. Henry. I thank you. God be with you.
Pift. My name is Pistol call'd.

[Exit. K. Henry. It forts well with your fierceness.

[Manet K. Henry.

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If you

Enter Fluellen, and Gower, severally.
Gow. Captain Fluellen.--

Flu. So; in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak fewer. It is the greatest admiration in the universal world when the true and antient prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept.

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 shall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the fobrieties of it, and the modeity of it, to be otherwise.

Gow. Why, the enemy is loud, you hear him all night.

Flu. If the enemy is an ass and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is is meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass and a fool, and a prating cox comb, in your own conscience now?

Gow. I will speak lower.
Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that



[Exeunt. K. Henry. Though it appear a little out of fainion, There is much care and valour in this Welchman.


Enter three soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court,

and Michael Williams.
Gourt. 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; lut
I think we shall never see the end of it.

K. Henry. A friend.
Will. Under what captain serve you ?
K. Henry, Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

Will. A good old commander, and a inoit kind gentleman. I pray you, what thinks he of our eitate. Vol. IV.

Ki Henry.

Who goes



K. Henry. Even as men wreck’d upon a fand, that look to be wash'd off the next tide.

Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King?

K. Henry. No; nor is it meet he should: for though I speak it to you, I think the King is but a man as I

• The violet smells to him as it doth to me; the " element thews to him as it doth to me; all his senses " bave but human conditions. His ceremonies laid u by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and tho' * his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet “ when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing: 6 therefore, when he sees reason of fears as we do, his “ fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as ours are:" yet in reason no man should possess him with any appearance of fear, left he, by shewing it, should dir. hearten his army.

Bates. He may shew 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 lo I would he were, and I by him at all adventures, so

we were quit here."

K. Henry. By my troth, I will fpeak my conscience of the King. I think he would not wish himself any where but where he is.

Bates. Then would he were here alone; fo should he be sure to be ranfomed, and many poor mens' lives faved.

K. Henry. I dare say, you love him not so ill to wish him here alone, howsoever you speak this to feel other men's minds. Methinks I could not die any where so contented as in the King's company, his cause being just, and his quarrel honourable.

Will. That's more than we know.

Bater. Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know enough, if we know we are the King's fubjees: if his cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us..

Will. But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make; when all those legs, and arms, and heads, chopp'd off in a battle, shall join together at the latter day, and cry all, We dy'd at such a place; " fome, swearing; fome, crying for a fur

“ geon;

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