If

other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Clytus. Gow. Our king is not like him in that he never killed any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it as Alexander killed his friend Clytus; being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his good judgments, turned away the fat knight with the great pelly-doublet: he was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I have forgot his name. Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he. I'll tell you, there is goot men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his majesty.

Alarum. Enter King HENRY, with a part of the English Forces; WARWICK, GLoster, Exeter, and others.

K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France Until this instant.-Take a trumpet, herald; Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond' hill: If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Or void the field; they do offend our sight. If they'll do neither, we will come to them, And make them skirr away, as swift as stones Enforced from the old Assyrian slings. Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have; And not a man of them that we shall take, Shall taste our mercy.-Go, and tell them so.

Enter MONTJOY.

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

Glo. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be. K. Hen. How now! what means this, herald? know'st thou not,

That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom ? Com'st thou again for ransom?

Mont. No, great king: I come to thee for charitable licence, That we may wander o'er this bloody field, To book our dead, and then to bury them; To sort our nobles from our common men; For many of our princes, woe the while! Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood; So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs In blood of princes, and their wounded steeds Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters, Killing them twice. O! give us leave, great king, To view the field in safety, and dispose Of their dead bodies.

K. Hen.

I tell thee truly, herald,

I know not if the day be ours, or no;
For yet a many of your horsemen peer,
And gallop o'er the field.

Mont.

The day is yours.

K. Hen. Praised be God, and not our strength,

for it!

What is this castle call'd, that stands hard by?

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Flu. Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the plack prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

K. Hen. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your majesty says very true. If your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps, which, your majesty knows, to this hour is an honourable padge of the service; and, I do believe, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.

K. Hen. I wear it for a memorable honour: For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

Flu. All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that: Got pless it, and preserve it, as long as it pleases his grace, and his majesty too!

K. Hen. Thanks, good my countryman. Flu. By Cheshu, I am your majesty's countryman, I care not who know it; I will confess it to all the world: I need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be God, so long as your majesty is an honest man.

K. Hen. God keep me so!—Our heralds go with him:

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead, On both our parts.-Call yonder fellow hither. [Points to WILLIAMS. Exeunt MONTJOY, and others.

Exe. Soldier, you must come to the king. K. Hen. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?

Will. An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive. K. Hen. An Englishman?

Will. An't please your majesty, a rascal that swaggered with me last night; who, if 'a live, and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box o' the ear: or, if I can see my glove in his cap, (which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear, if alive,) I will strike it out soundly.

K. Hen. What think you, captain Fluellen? is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

Flu. He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your majesty, in my conscience.

K. Hen. It may be, his enemy is a gentleman of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree. Flu. Though he be as goot a gentleman as the tevil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath. If he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain, and a Jack-sauce, as ever his plack shoe trod upon Got's ground and his earth, in my conscience, la.

K. Hen. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow.

Will. So I will, my liege, as I live.

K. Hen. Who servest thou under?

Will. Under captain Gower, my liege.

Flu. Gower is a goot captain, and is good know

ledge, and literatured in the wars.

K. Hen. Call him hither to me, soldier.
Will. I will, my liege.

[Exit.

K. Hen. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and stick it in thy cap. When Alençon and myself were down together, I plucked this glove from his helm: if any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alençon, and an enemy to our person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.

Flu. Your grace does me as great honours, as can be desired in the hearts of his subjects: I would fain see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find himself aggriefed at this glove, that is all; but I would fain see it once, and please Got of his grace, that I might see.

K. Hen. Knowest thou Gower?

Flu. He is my dear friend, and please you. K. Hen. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.

K. Hen. My lord of Warwick, and my brother
Gloster,

Follow Fluellen closely at the heels.
The glove, which I have given him for a favour,
May haply purchase him a box o' the ear:
It is the soldier's; I, by bargain, should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick:
If that the soldier strike him, (as, I judge
By his blunt bearing, he will keep his word,)
Some sudden mischief may arise of it,
For I do know Fluellen valiant,

And, touch'd with choler, hot as gunpowder,
And quickly will return an injury:

Follow, and see there be no harm between

40

SCENE VIII. Before King HENRY'S Pavilion.
Enter GowER, and WILLIAMS.

Will. I warrant it is to knight you, captain.
Enter FLUELLEN.

Flu. Got's will and his pleasure, captain, I peseech you now, come apace to the king: there is more goot toward you, peradventure, than is in your knowledge to dream of.

Will. Sir, know you this glove?

Flu. Know the glove? I know, the glove is a glove.

Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him.

Flu. 'Sblood! an arrant traitor, as any's in the universal world, or in France, or in England. Gow. How now, sir! you villain!

Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn? Flu. Stand away, captain Gower: I will give treason his payment into plows, I warrant you. Will. I am no traitor.

Flu. That's a lie in thy throat.-I charge you in his majesty's name, apprehend him he is a friend of the duke Alençon's.

Enter WARWICK, and GLOSTER.

War. How now, how now! what's the matter? Flu. My lord of Warwick, here is, praised be God for it! a most contagious treason come to light,

Here is his majesty.

Enter King HENRY, and EXETER.

K. Hen. How now! what's the matter? Flu. My liege, here is a villain, and a traitor, that, look your grace, has struck the glove which your majesty is take out of the helmet of Alençon.

Will. My liege, this was my glove; here is the fellow of it; and he that I gave it to in change promised to wear it in his cap: I promised to strike him if he did. I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my

word.

Flu. Your majesty hear now, saving your majesty's manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lowsy knave it is. I hope your majesty is pear me testimony, and witness, and avouchments, that this

me, in your conscience now.

K. Hen. Give me thy glove, soldier: look, here is the fellow of it.

'Twas I, indeed, thou promisedst to strike; And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

Flu. An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the world.

K. Hen. How canst thou make me satisfaction? Will. All offences, my lord, come from the heart: never came any from mine, that might offend your majesty.

K. Hen. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will. Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to me but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what your highness suffered under that shape, I beseech you, take it for your own fault, and not mine: for

had you been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech your highness, pardon me. K. Hen. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with

crowns,

And give it to this fellow.-Keep it, fellow, And wear it for an honour in thy cap, Till I do challenge it.-Give him the crowns.And, captain, you must needs be friends with him. Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pelly.-Hold, there is twelve pence for you, and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions; and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you.

Will. I will none of your money.

Flu. It is with a goot will. I can tell you, it will serve you to mend your shoes: come, wherefore should you be so pashful? your shoes is not so goot: 'tis a goot silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

Enter an English Herald.

K. Hen. Now, herald, are the dead number'd? Her. Here is the number of the slaughter'd French. [Delivers a paper. K. Hen. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

Exe. Charles duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;

John duke of Bourbon, and lord Bouciqualt:
Of other lords, and barons, knights, and 'squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

K. Hen. This note doth tell me of ten thousand
French,

That in the field lie slain : of princes, in this number,
And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
One hundred twenty-six: added to these,
Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:
So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, 'squires,

42

And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles that lie dead,-
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;

The master of the cross-bows, lord Rambures;
Great-master of France, the brave sir Guischard
Dauphin;

John duke of Alençon; Antony duke of Brabant,
The brother to the duke of Burgundy;
And Edward duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpré, and Roussi, Fauconberg, and Foix,
Beaumont, and Marle, Vaudemont, and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!-
Where is the number of our English dead?

[Herald presents another paper.
Edward the duke of York, the earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire:
None else of name, and of all other men
But five and twenty. O God! thy arm was here,
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all.-When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock, and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss,
On one part and on th' other?-Take it, God,
For it is only thine'
Exe.

'Tis wonderful!

Chor. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,

That I may prompt them: and of such as have,
I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life
Be here presented. Now, we bear the king
Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts,
Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and boys,
Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd

sea,

Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king
Seems to prepare his way. So, let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Blackheath;
Where that his lords desire him, to have borne
His bruised helmet, and his bended sword,
Before him, through the city: he forbids it,
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride,
Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent,

Quite from himself, to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and workinghouse of thought,

How London doth pour out her citizens.
The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort,
Like to the senators of th' antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Cæsar in :
As, by a lower but by loving likelihood,
Were now the general of our gracious empress
(As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit,

To welcome him! much more, and much more