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

K. Hen. No; nor it is not meet he should: for, though 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 shows to him, as it doth to me: all his senses have but human conditions; 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 an appearance of fear; lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his army.

Bates. He may show 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. Hen. 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. Hen. 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.

Bates. Ay, and more than we should seek after; for we know enough, if we know we are the king's subjects; 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 very heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs, and arms, and heads, chopped off in a battle, shall join together at the latter day, and cry all-We died at such a place; some swearing; some crying for a surgeon; some upon their wives left poor behind them; some upon the debts they owe; some upon their children rawly left. I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle; for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it; whom to discbey were against all proportion of subjection.

K. Hen. So, if a son, that is by his father sent about merchandise, do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the im

putation of his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed upon his father, that sent him; but this is not so; the king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, nor the father of his son; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their services. Every subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is his own :-therefore should every soldier in the wars do, as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience; and dying so, death is to him advantage; or, not dying, the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was gained and in him that escapes, it were not sin to think, that, making God so free an offer, he let him outlive that day, to see his greatness, and to teach others how they should prepare.

Will. "Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill is upon his own head; the king is not to answer for it. Bates. I do not desire he should answer for me; and yet I determine to fight lustily for him.

K. Hen. I myself heard the king say, he would not be ransomed.

Will. Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully; but when our throats are cut, he may be ransomed, and we ne'er the wiser.

K. Hen. If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.

Will. That's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun You'll never trust his word after! Come, 'tis a foolish saying.

K. Hen. Your reproof is something too round; I should be angry with you, if the time were convenient. Will. Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live. K. Hen. I embrace it.

Will. How shall I know thee again?

K. Hen. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet; then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.

Will. Here's my glove; give me another of thine. K. Hen. There.

Will. This will I also wear in my cap: If ever thou come to me, and say, after to-morrow, This is my glove," by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear. K. Hen. If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it. Will. Thou darest as well be hang'd.

K. Hen. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the king's company.

D

Will. Keep thy word: fare thee well.

Bates. [Crosses to R.] Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we have French quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.

[Exeunt WILLIAMS and BATES, R.
K. Hen. Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,
Our sins lay on the king;-we must bear all,
O hard condition, twin born with greatness!
What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect,
That private men enjoy !-and what have kings,
That privates have not too, save ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?

Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men,

Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd,

Than they in fearing? O, be sick, great greatness,
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure.

Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose:
I am a king, that find thee; and I know,
"Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,

Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave,
Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,

Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep,
Hath the fore-hand and vantage of a king.

Enter SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, R.

Erp. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence, Seek through your camp to find you.

K. Hen. Good old knight,

Collect them all together at my tent:
I'll be before thee.

Erp. I shall do't, my lord.

[Exit ERPINGHAM, R.

K. Hen. O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts! Possess them not with fear; take from them now The sense of reckoning, lest the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them! Not to-day, O Lord, O, not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown? I Richard's body have interred new ;

And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears,
Than from it issued forced drops of blood:
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a-day their wither'd hands hold up
Toward Heaven, to pardon blood :—more will I do,-
[Trumpet sounds, R.

The day, my friends, and all things stay for me.

[Flourish of Trumpets.-Exit, R.

SCENE III.-The French Camp.-A March. Enter DAUPHIN, the CONSTABLE of FRANCE, and BURGUNDY, L.

Dau. My lord high constable, the English lie within fifteen hundred paces of your tent.

Const. Who hath measured the ground?

Dau. The lord Grandpré.

Const. A valiant and most expert gentleman.

Bur. Alas, poor Harry England! he longs not for the battle as we do.

Dau. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so far out of his knowledge!

Bur. If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.

Dau. That they lack; for, if their heads had any intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.

Const. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

Dau. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten apples! You may as well say,-that's a valiant flea, that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

Bur. Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, leav ing their wits with their wives: and then give them great meals of beef, and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.

Const. Now is it time to arm: Come, shall we about it ?

Dau. I stay but for my guard:-On, to the field; I will the banner from a trumpet take,

And use it for my haste. Come, come away!

The sun is high; and we out-wear the day.

[Flourish of drums and trumpets.—Exeunt, R.

WEST

SCENE IV.-King Henry's Tent.-A March. Enter GLOSTER, L., BEDFORD, R., EXETER, L., MORELAND, FLUELLEN, L., and all the English Army, c. Glost. (L.) Where is the king?

Bed. (R.) The king himself is rode to view their battle.

West. (c.) Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.

Exe. (L.) That's five to one: besides, they all are fresh. Bed. Heaven's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful

odds!

West. Oh, that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!

Enter KING HENRY, attended, c. 1

K. Hen. What's he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmoreland?-No, my fair cousin ;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men the greater share of honour.

Wish not one man more:

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he, who hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart! his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd-the feast of Crispian :
He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian :
He, that shall live, this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say,-To-morrow is Saint Crispian:

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say,-These wounds I had on Crispian's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember, with advantages,

What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,-
Harry the King, Bedford, and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury, and Gloster,-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd: