Presented them unto the gazing moon

horrid ghosts. Who now beholds
The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him

cry, Praise and glory on his head!
For forth he goes and visits all his hoft,
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 an army hath enrounded him ;
Nordoth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night:
But freshly looks and over-bears attaint,
With chearful semblance and sweet majesty :
That ev'ry wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
A largess universal, like the sun,
His lib'ral eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold fear. Then mean, and gentle, all
Behold, (as may unworthiness define)
A little touch of Harry in the night.
And so our scene must to the battle fly:
Where, O for pity! we shall much disgrace,
With four or five moft vile and ragged foils,
(Right ill dispos’d, in brawl ridiculous)
The name of Agincourt. Yet fit and fee,
Minding true things by what their mock'ries be. (Exit.

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 shou'd our courage be. Good-morrow, brother Bedford: God Almighty!

There

There is some soul 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 churlish turf of France.
Erping. Not so, my Liege; this lodging likes me

better; Since I may say, now lie I like a Ķing. K. Henry. 'Tis good for men to love their present

pain
Upon example; so the fpirit is eased:
And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt.
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move
With casted lough and fresh legerity.
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas: brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our camp:
Do my good-morrow to them, and anon
Desire them all to my pavillion.

Glou. We shall, my Liege.
Erping. Shall I attend your grace ?

K. Henry. No, my good knight;
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 thce, noble Harry!

(Exeunt. h. Henry. God-a-mercy, old heart, thou speak't chearfully.

SCENE

SC EN E III.

Enter Pistol.
Pift. UI valà?

K. Henry. A friend.
Pift. Discuss unto me, art thou officer,
Or art thou base, common and popular ?

K. Henry. I am a gentlemen of a company,
Pift. Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
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.

Pist. The King's a bawçock, and a heart of gold,
A lad of life, an imp of fame,
Of parents good, of fist most valiant:
I kiss his dirty fbge, 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 Cornish

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

Pift. Tell hin, 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 yours.

Pist. Art ihou his friend?
K. Henry. And his kinsman too.
Pift. The l'igo for thee then!
K. Henry. I thank you: God be with you.
Pift. My name is Pistol callid.

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

[Manet King Henry. 'Enter Fluellen, and Gower, severally. Gower. Captain Fluellen.

Flu.

nor

Flu. So; in the name of Jesu Christ, speak fewer; it is the greatest admiration in the universal world, when the true and auncient 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, 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 ihe fobrieties of it, and the modefty of it to be otherwise.

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

Flu. If the enemy is an ass and a fool, and a pra-, ting coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, 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 falhion, There is much care and valour in this Welshmen.

SC EN E IV. Enter three Soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and

Michael Williams. Court. ROTHER John Bates, is not that the

morinng which breaks yonder ? Bates. I think it-be, but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.

Will. We fee yonder the beginning of the day, but, I think, we shall never see the end of it. Who

you will,

B

goes there?

K. Henry. A friend.
Will. Under what captain serve you!
K. Henry. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
TVill. A good old commander, and a most kind

gentleman: I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?

K. Henry.

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

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

K. Henry. No; nor is it meet, he shou'd: for tho I speak it to you, I think, the King is but a man as I am: the Violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shews to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions. His ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and tho' his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet when they stoop, thy foop with the like wing; therefore when he fees 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 poffefs him with any appearance of fear, left he, by shewing it, should dishearten

his army,

Bates. He may thew what outward courage he will; but, I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish himself in the Thames up to the neck; and so 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 conscience of the King; I think, he would not wish himself any where but where he is.

Bates. Then would he were here alone; so should he be sure to be ransomed, and many poor men's lives saved.

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 juft, and his quarrel honourable.

Will. That's more than we know,

Bates. Ay, or more than we shou'd seek after; for we know enough, if we know we are the King's fubjects : if his cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us. IVill. But if the cause be not good, the King him

felf