The Life of Henry the Fift.
87
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his sonne:
And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
From this day to the ending of the World,
But we in it shall be remembred;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he to day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,
This day shall gentle his Condition.
And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;
And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his sonne:
And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
From this day to the ending of the World,
But we in it shall be remembred;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he to day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,
This day shall gentle his Condition.
And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;
And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.
Enter Salisbury.
Sal.
My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:
The French are brauely in their battailes set,
And will with all expedience charge on vs.
My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:
The French are brauely in their battailes set,
And will with all expedience charge on vs.
King.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
West.
Perish the man, whose mind is backward now.
Perish the man, whose mind is backward now.
King.
Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England, Couze?
Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England, Couze?
West.
Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,
Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile.
Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,
Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile.
King.
Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:
Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.
You know your places: God be with you all.
Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:
Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.
You know your places: God be with you all.
Tucket. Enter Montioy.
Mont.
Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,
If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:
For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind
Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre
From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies
Must lye and fester.
Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,
If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:
For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind
Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre
From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies
Must lye and fester.
King.
Who hath sent thee now?
Who hath sent thee now?
Mont.
The Constable of France.
The Constable of France.
King.
I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust
Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.
And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,
They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,
And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,
The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.
Marke then abounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,
Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,
Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,
We are but Warriors for the working day:
Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht
With raynie Marching in the painefull field.
There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:
Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:
And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.
But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck
The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,
As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then
Will soone be leuyed.
Herauld, saue thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:
Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,
Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable.
I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust
Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.
And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,
They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,
And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,
The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.
Marke then abounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,
Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,
Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,
We are but Warriors for the working day:
Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht
With raynie Marching in the painefull field.
There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:
Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:
And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.
But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck
The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,
As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then
Will soone be leuyed.
Herauld, saue thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:
Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,
Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable.
Mont.
I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Exit.Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.
I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Exit.Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.
King.
I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a Ransome.
I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a Ransome.
Enter Yorke.
Yorke.
My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge
The leading of the Vaward.
My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge
The leading of the Vaward.
King.
Take it, braue Yorke.
Now Souldiers march away,
Exeunt.And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.
Take it, braue Yorke.
Now Souldiers march away,
Exeunt.And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.
Alarum. Excursions.
Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.
Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.
Pist.
Yeeld Curre.
Yeeld Curre.
French.
Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee.
Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee.
Pist.
Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?
What is thy Name? discusse.
Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?
What is thy Name? discusse.
French.
O Seigneur Dieu.
O Seigneur Dieu.
Pist.
O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend
my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur
Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur
thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome.
O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend
my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur
Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur
thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome.
French.
O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy.
O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy.
Pist.
Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for
I will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of
Crimson blood.
Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for
I will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of
Crimson blood.
French.
Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras.
Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras.
Pist.
Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine
Goat, offer'st me Brasse?
Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine
Goat, offer'st me Brasse?
French.
O perdonne moy.
O perdonne moy.
Pist.
Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?
Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is his Name.
Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?
Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is his Name.
Boy.
Escoute comment estes vous appelle?
Escoute comment estes vous appelle?
French.
Mounsieur le Fer.
Mounsieur le Fer.
Boy.
He sayes his Name is M. Fer.
He sayes his Name is M. Fer.
Pist.
M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:
discusse the same in French vnto him.
M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:
discusse the same in French vnto him.
Boy.
I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firke.
I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firke.
Pist.
Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
French.
Que dit il Mounsieur?
Que dit il Mounsieur?
Boy.
Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous prest,
car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre gorge.
Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous prest,
car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre gorge.
Pist.
Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse
thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt
thou be by this my Sword.
Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse
thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt
thou be by this my Sword.
French.
O Ie vous supplie pour l'amour de Dieu: ma pardonner,
Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie
vous donneray deux cent escus.
O Ie vous supplie pour l'amour de Dieu: ma pardonner,
Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie
vous donneray deux cent escus.
Pist. What are his words?
Boy. He
