 | The Life of Henry the Fift |  |
Actus Secundus.
Flourish. Enter Chorus.Thus with imagin'd wing our swift Scene flyes,
In motion of no lesse celeritie then that of Thought.
Suppose, that you haue seene
The well-appointed King at Douer Peer,
Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet,
With silken Streamers, the young Phebus fayning;
Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
Vpon the Hempen Tackle, Ship-boyes climbing;
Heare the shrill Whistle, which doth order giue
To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles,
Borne with th'inuisible and creeping Wind,
Draw the huge Bottomes through the furrowed Sea,
Bresting the loftie Surge. O, doe but thinke
You stand vpon the Riuage, and behold
A Citie on th'inconstant Billowes dauncing:
For so appeares this Fleet Maiesticall,
Holding due course to Harflew. Follow, follow:
Grapple your minds to sternage of this Nauie,
And leaue your England as dead Mid-night, still,
Guarded with Grandsires, Babyes, and old Women,
Eyther past, or not arriu'd to pyth and puissance:
For who is he, whose Chin is but enricht
With one appearing Hayre, that will not follow
These cull'd and choyse-drawne Caualiers to France?
Worke, worke your Thoughts, and therein see a Siege:
Behold the Ordenance on their Carriages,
With fatall mouthes gaping on girded Harflew.
Suppose th'Embassador from the French comes back:
Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him
Katherine his Daughter, and with her to Dowrie,
Some petty and vnprofitable Dukedomes.
The offer likes not: and the nimble Gunner
With Lynstock now the diuellish Cannon touches,
Alarum, and Chambers goe off.
And downe goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eech out our performance with your mind.
Exit.
Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester. Alarum: Scaling Ladders at Harflew.
King.
Once more vnto the Breach,
Deare friends, once more;
Or close the Wall vp with our English dead:
In Peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillnesse, and humilitie:
But when the blast of Warre blowes in our eares,
Then imitate the action of the Tyger:
Stiffen the sinewes, commune vp the blood,
Disguise faire Nature with hard-fauour'd Rage:
Then lend the Eye a terrible aspect:
Let it pry through the portage of the Head,
Like the Brasse Cannon: let the Brow o'rewhelme it,
As fearefully, as doth a galled Rocke
O're-hang and iutty his confounded Base,
Swill'd with the wild and wastfull Ocean.
Now set the Teeth, and stretch the Nosthrill wide,
Hold hard the Breath, and bend vp euery Spirit
To his full height. On, on, you Noblish English,
Whose blood is fet from Fathers of Warre-proofe:
Fathers, that like so many Alexanders,
Haue in these parts from Morne till Euen fought,
And sheath'd their Swords, for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your Mothers: now attest,
That those whom you call'd Fathers, did beget you.
Be Coppy now to me of grosser blood,
And teach them how to Warre. And you good Yeomen,
Whose Lyms were made in England; shew vs here
The mettell of your Pasture: let vs sweare,
That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not:
For there is none of you so meane and base,
That hath not Noble luster in your eyes.
I see you stand like Grey-hounds in the slips,
Straying vpon the Start. The Game's afoot:
Follow your Spirit; and vpon this Charge,
Cry, God for Harry, England, and S. George.
Alarum, and Chambers goe off.
Enter Nim, Bardolph, Pistoll, and Boy.
Bard.
On, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach.
Nim.
'Pray thee Corporall stay, the Knocks are too
hot: and for mine owne part, I haue not a Case of Liues:
the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plaine-Song
of it.
Pist.
The plaine-Song is most iust: for humors doe abound:
Knocks goe and come: Gods Vassals drop and
dye: and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth winne
immortall fame.
Boy.
Would I were in an Ale-house in London, I
would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and safetie.
And I: If wishes would preuayle with me, my
purpose should not fayle with me; but thither would I
high.
Boy.
As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth sing on
bough.
Enter Fluellen.
Flu.
Vp to the breach, you Dogges; auaunt you
Cullions.
Pist.
Be mercifull great Duke to men of Mould: abate
thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage,
great Duke. Good Bawcock bate thy Rage: vse lenitie
sweet Chuck.
Nim.
These be good humors: your Honor wins bad
humors.
Exit.
Boy.
As young as I am, I haue obseru'd these three
Swashers: I am Boy to them all three, but all they three,
though they would serue me, could not be Man to me;
for indeed three such Antiques doe not amount to a man:
for Bardolph, hee is white-liuer'd, and red-fac'd; by the
meanes whereof, a faces it out, but fights not: for Pistoll,
hee hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the
meanes whereof, a breakes Words, and keepes whole
Weapons: for Nim, hee hath heard, that men of few
Words are the best men, and therefore hee scornes to say
his Prayers, lest a should be thought a Coward: but his
few bad Words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for
a neuer broke any mans Head but his owne, and that was
against a Post, when he was drunke. They will steale any
thing, and call it Purchase. Bardolph stole a Lute-case,
bore it twelue Leagues, and sold it for three halfepence.
Nim and Bardolph are sworne Brothers in filching: and
in Callice they stole a fire-shouell. I knew by that peece
of Seruice, the men would carry Coales. They would
haue me as familiar with mens Pockets, as their Gloues
or their Hand-kerchers: which makes much against my
Manhood, if I should take from anothers Pocket, to put
into mine; for it is plaine pocketting vp of Wrongs.
I must leaue them, and seeke some better Seruice: their
Villany goes against my weake stomacke, and therefore
I must cast it vp.
Exit.
Enter Gower.
Gower.
Captaine Fluellen, you must come presently to
the Mynes; the Duke of Gloucester would speake with
you.
Flu.
To the Mynes? Tell you the Duke, it is not so
good to come to the Mynes: for looke you, the Mynes
is not according to the disciplines of the Warre; the concauities
of it is not sufficient: for looke you, th'athuersarie,
you may discusse vnto the Duke, looke you, is digt
himselfe foure yard vnder the Countermines: by Cheshu,
I thinke a will plowe vp all, if there is not better directions.
Gower.
The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the Order
of the Siege is giuen, is altogether directed by an Irish
man, a very valiant Gentleman yfaith.
Welch.
It is Captaine Makmorrice, is it not?
Gower.
I thinke it be.
Welch.
By Cheshu he is an Asse, as in the World, I will
verifie as much in his Beard: he ha's no more directions
in the true disciplines of the Warres, looke you, of the
Roman disciplines, then is a Puppy-dog.
Enter Makmorrice, and Captaine Iamy.
Gower.
Here a comes, and the Scots Captaine, Captaine
Iamy, with him.
Welch.
Captaine Iamy is a maruellous falorous Gentleman,
that is certain, and of great expedition and knowledge
in th'aunchiant Warres, vpon my particular knowledge
of his directions: by Cheshu he will maintaine his
Argument as well as any Militarie man in the World, in
the disciplines of the Pristine Warres of the Romans.
Scot.
I say gudday, Captaine Fluellen.
Welch.
Godden to your Worship, good Captaine
Iames.
Gower.
How now Captaine Mackmorrice, haue you
quit the Mynes? haue the Pioners giuen o're?
Irish.
By Chrish Law tish ill done: the Worke ish
giue ouer, the Trompet sound the Retreat. By my Hand
I sweare, and my fathers Soule, the Worke ish ill done:
it ish giue ouer: I would haue blowed vp the Towne,
so Chrish saue me law, in an houre. O tish ill done, tish ill
done: by my Hand tish ill done.
Welch.
Captaine Mackmorrice, I beseech you now,
will you voutsafe me, looke you, a few disputations with
you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of
the Warre, the Roman Warres, in the way of Argument,
looke you, and friendly communication: partly to satisfie
my Opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, looke you, of
my Mind: as touching the direction of the Militarie discipline,
that is the Point.
Scot.
It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud Captens bath,
and I sall quit you with gud leue, as I may pick occasion:
that sall I mary.
Irish.
It is no time to discourse, so Chrish saue me:
the day is hot, and the Weather, and the Warres, and the
King, and the Dukes: it is no time to discourse, the Town
is beseech'd: and the Trumpet call vs to the breech, and
we talke, and be Chrish do nothing, tis shame for vs all:
so God sa'me 'tis shame to stand still, it is shame by my
hand: and there is Throats to be cut, and Workes to be
done, and there ish nothing done, so Christ sa'me law.
Scot.
By the Mes, ere theise eyes of mine take themselues
to slomber, ayle de gud seruice, or Ile ligge i'th'
grund for it; ay, or goe to death: and Ile pay't as valorously
as I may, that sal I suerly do, that is the breff and
the long: mary, I wad full faine heard some question
tween you tway.
Welch.
Captaine Mackmorrice, I thinke, looke you,
vnder your correction, there is not many of your Nation.
Irish.
Of my Nation? What ish my Nation? Ish a
Villaine, and a Basterd, and a Knaue, and a Rascall. What
ish my Nation? Who talkes of my Nation?
Welch.
Looke you, if you take the matter otherwise
then is meant, Captaine Mackmorrice, peraduenture I
shall thinke you doe not vse me with that affabilitie, as in
discretion you ought to vse me, looke you, being as good
a man as your selfe, both in the disciplines of Warre, and
in the deriuation of my Birth, and in other particularities.
Irish.
I doe not know you so good a man as my selfe:
so Chrish saue me, I will cut off your Head.
Gower.
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
Scot.
A, that's a foule fault.
A Parley.
Gower.
The Towne sounds a Parley.
Welch.
Captaine Mackmorrice, when there is more
better oportunitie to be required, looke you, I will be
so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of Warre:
and there is an end.
Exit.
Enter the King and all his Traine before the Gates.
King.
How yet resolues the Gouernour of the Towne?
This is the latest Parle we will admit:
Or like to men prowd of destruction,
Defie vs to our worst: for as I am a Souldier,
A Name that in my thoughts becomes me best;
If I begin the batt'rie once againe,
I will not leaue the halfe-atchieued Harflew,
Till in her ashes she lye buryed.
The Gates of Mercy shall be all shut vp,
And the flesh'd Souldier, rough and hard of heart,
In libertie of bloody hand, shall raunge
With Conscience wide as Hell, mowing like Grasse
Your fresh faire Virgins, and your flowring Infants.
What is it then to me, if impious Warre,
Arrayed in flames like to the Prince of Fiends,
Doe with his smyrcht complexion all fell feats,
Enlynckt to wast and desolation?
What is't to me, when you your selues are cause,
If your pure Maydens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing Violation?
What Reyne can hold licentious Wickednesse,
When downe the Hill he holds his fierce Carriere?
We may as bootlesse spend our vaine Command
Vpon th'enraged Souldiers in their spoyle,
As send Precepts to the Leuiathan, to come ashore.
Therefore, you men of Harflew,
Take pitty of your Towne and of your People,
Whiles yet my Souldiers are in my Command,
Whiles yet the coole and temperate Wind of Grace
O're-blowes the filthy and contagious Clouds
Of headly Murther, Spoyle, and Villany.
If not: why in a moment looke to see
The blind and bloody Souldier, with foule hand
Desire the Locks of your shrill-shriking Daughters:
Your Fathers taken by the siluer Beards,
And their most reuerend Heads dasht to the Walls:
Your naked Infants spitted vpon Pykes,
Whiles the mad Mothers, with their howles confus'd,
Doe breake the Clouds; as did the Wiues of Iewry,
At Herods bloody-hunting slaughter-men.
What say you? Will you yeeld, and this auoyd?
Or guiltie in defence, be thus destroy'd.
Enter Gouernour.
Gouer.
Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dolphin, whom of Succours we entreated,
Returnes vs, that his Powers are yet not ready,
To rayse so great a Siege: Therefore great King,
We yeeld our Towne and Liues to thy soft Mercy:
Enter our Gates, dispose of vs and ours,
For we no longer are defensible.
King.
Open your Gates: Come Vnckle Exeter,
Goe you and enter Harflew; there remaine,
And fortifie it strongly 'gainst the French:
Vse mercy to them all for vs, deare Vnckle.
The Winter comming on, and Sicknesse growing
Vpon our Souldiers, we will retyre to Calis.
To night in Harflew will we be your Guest,
To morrow for the March are we addrest.
Flourish, and enter the Towne.
Enter Katherine and an old Gentlewoman.
Kathe.
Alice, tu as este en Angleterre, & tu bien parlas
le Language.
Alice.
En peu Madame.
Kath.
Ie te prie m'ensigniez, il faut que ie apprend a parlen:
Comient appelle vous le main en Anglois?
Alice.
Le main il & appelle de Hand.
Kath.
De Hand.
Alice.
E le doyts.
Kat.
Le doyts, ma foy Ie oublie, e doyt mays, ie me souemeray
le doyts ie pense qu'ils ont appelle de fingres, ou de fingres.
Alice.
Le main de Hand, le doyts le Fingres, ie pense que ie
suis le bon escholier.
Kath.
I'ay gaynie diux mots d' Anglois vistement, coment
appelle vous le ongles?
Alice.
Le ongles, les appellons de Nayles.
Kath.
De Nayles escoute: dites moy, si ie parle bien: de
Hand, de Fingres, e de Nayles.
Alice.
C'est bien dict Madame, il & fort bon Anglois.
Kath.
Dites moy l' Anglois pour le bras.
Alice.
De Arme, Madame.
Kath.
E de coudee.
Alice.
D'Elbow.
Kath.
D'Elbow: Ie men fay le repiticio de touts les mots
que vous maves, apprins des a present.
Alice.
Il & trop difficile Madame, comme Ie pense.
Kath.
Excuse moy Alice escoute, d'Hand, de Fingre, de
Nayles, d'Arma, de Bilbow.
Alice.
D'Elbow, Madame.
Kath.
O Seigneur Dieu, ie men oublie d'Elbow, coment appelle
vous le col.
Alice.
De Nick, Madame.
Kath.
De Nick, e le menton.
Alice.
De Chin.
Kath.
De Sin: le col de Nick, le menton de Sin.
Alice.
Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur en verite vous pronouncies
les mots ausi droict, que le Natifs d'Angleterre.
Kath.
Ie ne doute point d'apprendre par de grace de Dieu,
& en peu de temps.
Alice.
N'aue vos y desia oublie ce que ie vous a ensignie.
Kath.
Nome ie recitera a vous promptement, d'Hand, de
Fingre, de Maylees.
Alice.
De Nayles, Madame.
Kath.
De Nayles, de Arme, de Ilbow.
Alice.
Sans vostre honeus d'Elbow.
Kath.
Ainsi de ie d'Elbow, de Nick, & de Sin: coment appelle
vous les pied & de roba.
Alice.
Le Foot Madame, & le Count.
Kath.
Le Foot, & le Count: O Seignieur Dieu, il sont le
mots de son mauvais corruptible grosse & impudique, & non
pour le Dames de Honeur d'vser: le ne voudray pronouncer ce
mots deuant le Seigneurs de France, pour toute le monde, fo le
Foot & le Count neant moys, Ie recitera vn autrefoys ma lecon
ensembe, d'Hand, de Fingre, de Nayles, d'Arme, d'Elbow, de
Nick, de Sin, de Foot, le Count.
Alice.
Excellent, Madame.
Kath.
C'est asses pour vne foyes, alons nous a diner.
Exit.
Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the Constable of France, and others.
King.
'Tis certaine he hath past the Riuer Some.
Const.
And if he be not fought withall, my Lord,
Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,
And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People.
Dolph.
O Dieu viuant: Shall a few Sprayes of vs,
The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie,
Our Syens, put in wilde and sauage Stock,
Spirt vp so suddenly into the Clouds,
And ouer-looke their Grafters?
Brit.
Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards:
Mort du ma vie, if they march along
Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome,
In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion.
Const.
Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell?
Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale,
Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,
A Drench for sur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine,
Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land,
Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles
Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People
Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields:
Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords.
Dolphin.
By Faith and Honor,
Our Madames mock at vs, and plainely say,
Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue
Their bodyes to the Lust of English Youth,
To new-store France with Bastard Warriors.
Brit.
They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles,
And teach Lauolta's high, and swift Carranto's,
Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles,
And that we are most loftie Run-awayes.
King.
Where is Montioy the Herald? speed him hence,
Let him greet England with our sharpe defiance.
Vp Princes, and with spirit of Honor edged,
More sharper then your Swords, high to the field:
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
You Dukes of Orleance, Burbon, and of Berry,
Alanson, Brabant, Bar, and Burgonie,
Iaques Chattillion, Rambures, Vandemont,
Beumont, Grand Pree, Roussi, and Faulconbridge,
Loys, Lestrale, Bouciquall, and Charaloyes,
High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings;
For your great Seats, now quit you of great shames:
Barre Harry England, that sweepes through our Land
With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew:
Rush on his Hoast, as doth the melted Snow
Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vassall Seat,
The Alpes doth spit, and void his rhewme vpon.
Goe downe vpon him, you haue Power enough,
And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan
Bring him our Prisoner.
Const.
This becomes the Great.
Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:
For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,
Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,
And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.
King.
Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,
And let him say to England, that we send,
To know what willing Ransome he will giue.
Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan.
Dolph.
Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie.
King.
Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.
Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,
And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.
Exeunt.
Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower and Fluellen.
Gower.
How now Captaine Fluellen, come you from
the Bridge?
Flu.
I assure you, there is very excellent Seruices committed
at the Bridge.
Gower.
Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
Flu.
The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon,
and a man that I loue and honour with my soule,
and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my liuing,
and my vttermost power. He is not, God be praysed and
blessed, any hurt in the World, but keepes the Bridge
most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient
Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very
conscience hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthony, and
hee is a man of no estimation in the World, but I did see
him doe as gallant seruice.
Gower.
What doe you call him?
Flu.
Hee is call'd aunchient Pistoll.
Gower.
I know him not.
Enter Pistoll.
Flu.
Here is the man.
Pist.
Captaine, I thee beseech to doe me fauours: the
Duke of Exeter doth loue thee well.
Flu.
I, I prayse God, and I haue merited some loue at
his hands.
Pist.
Bardolph, a Souldier firme and sound of heart,
and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie
Fortunes furious fickle Wheele, that Goddesse blind, that
stands vpon the rolling restlesse Stone.
Flu.
By your patience, aunchient Pistoll: Fortune is
painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to signifie
to you, that Fortune is blinde; and shee is painted also
with a Wheele, to signifie to you, which is the Morall of
it, that shee is turning and inconstant, and mutabilitie,
and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed vpon a
Sphericall Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles:
in good truth, the Poet makes a most excellent description
of it: Fortune is an excellent Morall.
Pist.
Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him:
for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned
death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free,
and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter
hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price.
Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce;
and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of
Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for
his Life, and I will thee requite.
Flu.
Aunchient Pistoll, I doe partly vnderstand your
meaning.
Pist.
Why then reioyce therefore.
Flu.
Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce
at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would desire
the Duke to vse his good pleasure, and put him to execution;
for discipline ought to be vsed.
Pist.
Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendship.
Flu.
It is well.
Pist.
The Figge of Spaine.
Exit.
Flu.
Very good.
Gower.
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rascall, I
remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purse.
Flu.
Ile assure you, a vtt'red as praue words at the
Pridge, as you shall see in a Summers day: but it is very
well: what he ha's spoke to me, that is well I warrant you,
when time is serue.
Gower.
Why 'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and
then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne
into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such
fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and
they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done;
at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Conuoy:
who came off brauely, who was shot, who disgrac'd,
what termes the Enemy stood on: and this they
conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke
Cut, and a horride Sute of the Campe, will doe among
foming Bottles, and Ale-washt Wits, is wonderfull
to be thought on: but you must learne to know such
slanders of the age, or else you may be maruellously mistooke.
Flu.
I tell you what, Captaine Gower: I doe perceiue
hee is not the man that hee would gladly make shew to
the World hee is: if I finde a hole in his Coat, I will tell
him my minde: hearke you, the King is comming, and I
must speake with him from the Pridge.
Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his poore Souldiers.
Flu.
God plesse your Maiestie.
King.
How now Fluellen, cam'st thou from the Bridge?
Flu.
I, so please your Maiestie: The Duke of Exeter
ha's very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge; the French is
gone off, looke you, and there is gallant and most praue
passages: marry, th'athuersarie was haue possession of
the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of
Exeter is Master of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie,
the Duke is a praue man.
King.
What men haue you lost, Fluellen?
Flu.
The perdition of th'athuersarie hath beene very
great, reasonnable great: marry for my part, I thinke the
Duke hath lost neuer a man, but one that is like to be executed
for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Maiestie
know the man: his face is all bubukles and whelkes,
and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his
nose, and it is like a coale of fire, sometimes plew, and
sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire's
out.
King.
Wee would haue all such offendors so cut off:
and we giue expresse charge, that in our Marches through
the Countrey, there be nothing compell'd from the Villages;
nothing taken, but pay'd for: none of the French
vpbrayded or abused in disdainefull Language; for when
Leuitie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler
Gamester is the soonest winner.
Tucket. Enter Mountioy.
Mountioy.
You know me by my habit.
King.
Well then, I know thee: what shall I know of
thee?
Mountioy.
My Masters mind.
King.
Vnfold it.
Mountioy.
Thus sayes my King: Say thou to Harry
of England, Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleepe:
Aduantage is a better Souldier then rashnesse. Tell him,
wee could haue rebuk'd him at Harflewe, but that wee
thought not good to bruise an iniurie, till it were full
ripe. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is imperiall:
England shall repent his folly, see his weakenesse,
and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider
of his ransome, which must proportion the losses we
haue borne, the subiects we haue lost, the disgrace we
haue digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettinesse
would bow vnder. For our losses, his Exchequer is
too poore; for th'effusion of our bloud, the Muster of his
Kingdome too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his
owne person kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worthlesse
satisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for
conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation
is pronounc't: So farre my King and Master;
so much my Office.
King.
What is thy name? I know thy qualitie.
Mount.
Mountioy.
King.
Thou doo'st thy Office fairely. Turne thee back,
And tell thy King, I doe not seeke him now,
But could be willing to march on to Callice,
Without impeachment: for to say the sooth,
Though 'tis no wisdome to confesse so much
Vnto an enemie of Craft and Vantage,
My people are with sicknesse much enfeebled,
My numbers lessen'd: and those few I haue,
Almost no better then so many French;
Who when they were in health, I tell thee Herald,
I thought, vpon one payre of English Legges
Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgiue me God,
That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of France
Hath blowne that vice in me. I must repent:
Goe therefore tell thy Master, heere I am;
My Ransome, is this frayle and worthlesse Trunke;
My Army, but a weake and sickly Guard:
Yet God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himselfe, and such another Neighbor
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour Mountioy.
Goe bid thy Master well aduise himselfe.
If we may passe, we will: if we be hindred,
We shall your tawnie ground with your red blood
Discolour: and so Mountioy, fare you well.
The summe of all our Answer is but this:
We would not seeke a Battaile as we are,
Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it:
So tell your Master.
Mount.
I shall deliuer so: Thankes to your Highnesse.
Glouc.
I hope they will not come vpon vs now.
King.
We are in Gods hand, Brother, not in theirs:
March to the Bridge, it now drawes toward night,
Beyond the Riuer wee'le encampe our selues,
And on to morrow bid them march away.
Exeunt.
Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Ramburs, Orleance, Dolphin, with others.
Const.
Tut, I haue the best Armour of the World:
would it were day.
Orleance.
You haue an excellent Armour: but let my
Horse haue his due.
Const.
It is the best Horse of Europe.
Orleance.
Will it neuer be Morning?
Dolph.
My Lord of Orleance, and my Lord High Constable,
you talke of Horse and Armour?
Orleance.
You are as well prouided of both, as any
Prince in the World.
Dolph.
What a long Night is this? I will not change
my Horse with any that treades but on foure postures:
ch' ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were
hayres: le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de
feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots
the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest
horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of
Hermes.
Orleance.
Hee's of the colour of the Nutmeg.
Dolph.
And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beast
for Perseus: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Elements
of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but only
in patient stillnesse while his Rider mounts him: hee
is indeede a Horse, and all other Iades you may call
Beasts.
Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellent
Horse.
Dolph.
It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like
the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces
Homage.
Orleance.
No more Cousin.
Dolph.
Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from
the rising of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe,
varie deserued prayse on my Palfray: it is a Theame as
fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues,
and my Horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subiect
for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne
to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs,
and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions,
and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse,
and began thus, Wonder of Nature.
Orleance.
I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Mistresse.
Dolph.
Then did they imitate that which I compos'd
to my Courser, for my Horse is my Mistresse.
Orleance.
Your Mistresse beares well.
Dolph.
Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfection
of a good and particular Mistresse.
Const.
Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresse
shrewdly shooke your back.
Dolph.
So perhaps did yours.
Const.
Mine was not bridled.
Dolph.
O then belike she was old and gentle, and you
rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in
your strait Strossers.
Const.
You haue good iudgement in Horsemanship.
Dolph.
Be warn'd by me then: they that ride so, and
ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue
my Horse to my Mistresse.
Const.
I had as liue haue my Mistresse a Iade.
Dolph.
I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares his
owne hayre.
Const.
I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a
Sow to my Mistresse.
Dolph.
Le chien est retourne a son propre vemissement est
la leuye lauee au bourbier: thou mak'st vse of any thing.
Const.
Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,
or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purpose.
Ramb.
My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw in
your Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?
Const.
Starres my Lord.
Dolph.
Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope.
Const.
And yet my Sky shall not want.
Dolph.
That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,
and 'twere more honor some were away.
Const.
Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, who
would trot as well, were some of your bragges dismounted.
Dolph.
Would I were able to loade him with his desert.
Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile,
and my way shall be paued with English Faces.
Const.
I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out
of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would
faine be about the eares of the English.
Ramb.
Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentie
Prisoners?
Const.
You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere you
haue them.
Dolph.
'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.
Exit.
Orleance.
The Dolphin longs for morning.
Ramb.
He longs to eate the English.
Const.
I thinke he will eate all he kills.
Orleance.
By the white Hand of my Lady, hee's a gallant
Prince.
Const.
Sweare by her Foot, that she may tread out the
Oath.
Orleance.
He is simply the most actiue Gentleman of
France.
Const.
Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doing.
Orleance.
He neuer did harme, that I heard of.
Const.
Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe
that good name still.
Orleance.
I know him to be valiant.
Const.
I was told that, by one that knowes him better
then you.
Orleance.
What's hee?
Const.
Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd hee
car'd not who knew it.
Orleance.
Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue in
him.
Const.
By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw
it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it
appeares, it will bate.
Orleance.
Ill will neuer sayd well.
Const.
I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatterie
in friendship.
Orleance.
And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuill
his due.
Const.
Well plac't: there stands your friend for the
Deuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, A
Pox of the Deuill.
Orleance.
You are the better at Prouerbs, by how much
a Fooles Bolt is soone shot.
Const.
You haue shot ouer.
Orleance.
'Tis not the first time you were ouer-shot.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My Lord high Constable, the English lye within
fifteene hundred paces of your Tents.
Const.
Who hath measur'd the ground?
Mess.
The Lord Grandpree.
Const.
A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would
it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs
not for the Dawning, as wee doe.
Orleance.
What a wretched and peeuish fellow is this
King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers
so farre out of his knowledge.
Const.
If the English had any apprehension, they
would runne away.
Orleance.
That they lack: for if their heads had any intellectuall
Armour, they could neuer weare such heauie
Head-pieces.
Ramb.
That Iland of England breedes very valiant
Creatures; their Mastiffes are of vnmatchable courage.
Orleance.
Foolish Curres, that runne winking into
the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht
like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that's a valiant
Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a
Lyon.
Const.
Iust, iust: and the men doe sympathize with
the Mastiffes, in robustious and rough comming on,
leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then giue
them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele; they
will eate like Wolues, and fight like Deuils.
I, but these English are shrowdly out of Beefe.
Const.
Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only
stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to
arme: come, shall we about it?
Orleance.
It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten
Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.
Exeunt.
| The Life of Henry the Fift | |