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

бо

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 belly. Hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you to serve God, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better 70 for you.

Will. I will none of your money.

Flu. It is with a good 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 good: 'tis a good 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.

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

80

81 f. The catalogue closely follows Holinshed both in names and numbers.

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,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.

The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;
Jacques of Chatillon, admiral of France;

The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;
Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard
Dolphin,

John Duke of Alençon, Anthony 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 shews him 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,

98. Jacques (monosyllable).
99. cross bows, cross-

men.

bow

III. But five and twenty. Holinshed gives this as the

report of 'some'; adding, 'but other writers of greater credit affirm, that there were slain above five or six hundred persons.'

Was ever known so great and little loss

On one part and on the other?

For it is none but thine!

Exe.

Take it, God,

'Tis wonderful!

K. Hen. Come, go we in procession to the village : And be it death proclaimed through our host To boast of this or take that praise from God Which is his only.

Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell how many is killed?

K. Hen. Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,

That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.
K. Hen. Do we all holy rites;

Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum ;'
The dead with charity enclosed in clay :
And then to Calais; and to England then ;

Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men.

120

130

ACT V

[Exeunt.

PROLOGUE.

Enter Chorus.

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 the 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 working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens !
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conquering Cæsar in:
As, by a lower but 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,

12. whiffler, one who marched or rode at the head of a procession to clear the way, furnished with a staff, or lath sword. The 'whiffle' probably a fife.

was

21. signal and ostent, sign and outward show of triumph. 25. sort, array.

IO

20

30

29. by a lower but loving likelihood, to compare Henry's triumphal entry with another, less momentous, but not less welcome.

30. the general, the Earl of Essex, who had been sent in March 1599 to suppress the Irish revolt. See the Introduction.

To welcome him! much more, and much more

cause,

Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;
As yet the lamentation of the French

Invites the king of England's stay at home;
The emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them; and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanced,
Till Harry's back-return again to France:
There must we bring him; and myself have
play'd

The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.
Then brook abridgement, and your eyes advance,
After your thoughts, straight back again to France.

[Exit.

SCENE I. France. The English camp.

Enter FLUELLEN and GoWER.

Gow. Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past.

40

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, asse my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scauld, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in 10 a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

38. The emperor; Sigismund, Emperor of Germany, landed in

England in May 1416.
5. scauld, scabby.