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a man as Mark Antony, and he is a man of no estima. tion in the world, but I did see him do gallant services.

Gower. What do you call him ?
Flu. He is callid Ancient Pistol.
Gower. I know him not.

Enter Pistol.
Flu. Here is the man.

Pift. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours : The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

Flu. I, I praise God, and I have merited some love at his hands.

Pift. Bardolph, a soldier firm and found of heart, And buxom valour, hath by cruel fate. And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel, That Goddess blind that stands upon the rolling restless

stone Flu. By your patience, Ancient Pistol: Fortune is painted with a muffler before her eyes, to signify to you that fortune is plind; and the is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it that she is turning and inconstant, and mutabilities and variations ; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rowles, and rowles, and Towles; in good truth, the Poet makes a moft excellent defcription of it.: fortune is an excellent moral.

Pift. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; * for he bath ftolen a Pax, and hanged muft a' be; damned death! Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free, And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate; But Exeter hath given the doom of death, For Pax of little price. Therefore, go speak, The Duke will hear thy voice;' And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut

* for he hath foln a Pax.) This is conformable to History. A Soldier (Hall tells us, Henry V. year 3. fol. 14. ) being hanged at this Time for such a Fad,

Nr. Pope.

With edge of penny-cord, and vile reproach.
Speak, Captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.

Flu. Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning

Pift. Why then rejoice therefore.

Flu. Certainly, Ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at; forif, look you, he were my brother, I would defire the Duke to use his good 'pleasure, and put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be used.

Pis. Die and be damn'd, and Figo for thy friendship!
Flu. It is well.
Pist: The fig of Spain-

[Exit Pift. Flu, Very good.

Gower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal, I remember him now; a bawd, a cut-purse.

Flu. I'll assure you, he utter'd as prave words at the pridge, as you shall see in a summer's day: but it is very well ; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve,

Gower. Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars, 'to grace himself at his return into London, under the form of a soldier. Such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names, and they will learn you by rote where services were done; at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a convoy;

who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what terms the enerny stood on; this they con perfe&tly in the phrase of war, which they trick

up

with new-turned oaths: And what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid suit of the camp, will do among foaming bottles and ale-wash'd wits, is wonderful to be thought on! But you must learn to know such flanders of the age, or else you may be marvelously mistook.

Flu. I tell you what, captain Gower ; I do perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly make shew to the world he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell

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him my mind; hear you, the King is coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.

Flu. G

S CE N E VIII. Drum and Colours. Enter the King, and his poor soldiers.

OD pless your Majesty.

K. Henry. How now, Fluellen, cam'ft thou from the bridge?

Flu. I, so please your Majesty: the Duke of Exeter has very gallantly inaintain'd ihe pridge; the French is gone off

, look you, and there is gallant and most prave paffages ; marry, th' athversary was have pofsession of the pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge : I can tell your Majesty, the Duke is a prave man.

K. Henry. What men have you loft, Fluellen?

Flu. The perdition of th' athversary hath been very great, very reasonable great; marry, for my part, I think, the Duke hath lost never a man but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man: his face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire; sometimes plue, and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.

K Henry. We would have such offenders so cutoff;
And give express charge, that in all our march
There shall be nothing taken from the villages,
But shall be paid for; and no French upbraided,
Os yet abused in disdainful language;
When lenity and cruelty play for kingdoms,
The gentler gamester is the sooneft winner.

Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy.
Mount. You know me by my habit.
K. Henry. Well then, I know thee; what shall I
know of thee?

Mount.

Mount. My master's mind.
K. Henry. Unfold it.
Mount. Thus says my King: say thou to Harry

England,
Although we seemed dead, we did but sleep:
Advantage is a better foldier than rashness.
Tell him, we could at Harfleur have rebuk'd him;
But that we thought not good to bruise injury,
'Till it were ripe. Now, speak we on our cue,
With voice imperial: England shall repent
His folly, see his weakness, and admire
Our suff'rance.

Bid him therefore to consider, What must the ransom be, which must proportion The losses we have borne, the subjects we Have loft, and the disgrace we have digefted; To answer which, his pettiness would bow under. First for our loss, too poor is his Exchequer; : For the effufion of our blood, his army Too faint a number; and for our disgrace, Ey'n his own person kneeling at our feet A weak and worthless fatisfa&tion. To this, defiance add; and for conclusion, Tell him he hath betray'd his followers, Whose condemnation is pronounc'd. So far My King and master; and so much my office. K. Henry. What is thy name? I know thy quality, Mount. Mountjoy.

K. Henry. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee And tell thy King, I do not seek him now; But could be willing to march on to Calais Without impeachment; for to say the footh, (Though 'tis no wisdom to consess so much Unto an enemy of craft and vantage) My people are with fickness much enfeebled, My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have, Almost no better than fo

many

French; Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,

I

back,

I thought, upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchman. Yet, forgive me, God,
That I do brag thus; this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy master, here I am;
My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk ;
My army but a weak and fickly guard :
Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himself, and such another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Mountjoy.
Go, bid thy master well advise himself:
If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour: and so, Mountjoy, fare you well.
The sum of all our answer is but this;
We would not seek a battle as we are,
Yet, as we are, we say, we will not shun it:
So tell your master.
Mount. I shall deliver fo: thanks to your Highness.

Exit.
Glou. I hope, they will not come upon us now.
K. Henry. We are in God's hand, brother, not in

theirs : March to the bridge; it now draws toward night; Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves; And on to-morrow bid them march away. [Exeunt,

SCENE IX.

The French Camp near Agincourt. Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, Or

leans, Dauphin, with others. UT, I have the best armour of the world.

Would it were day! Orl. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.

Con. It is the best horfe of Europe.
Orl. Will it never be morning?

Dau.

Con. T°W

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