Unto the weary and all-watched night:
But freshly looks and over-bears attaint,
With cheerful femblance and fweet Majefty:
That ev'ry wretch pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
A largefs univerfal like the fun

His lib'ral eye doth give to ev'ry one,
Thawing cold fear. Then mean and gentle all
Behold (as may unworthiness define)
A little touch of Harry in the night.
And fo our scene muft to the battel fly:
Where, O for pity! we shall much difgrace,
With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
(Right ill difpos'd, in brawl ridiculous)
The name of Agincourt. Yet fit and fee,
Minding true things by what their mock'ries be.

ACT IV. SCENE I.
The English Camp at Agincourt.

[Exit

Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloucester. LO'STER, 'tis true that we are in great danger,

K. Henry.

G

The greater therefore fhould our courage be.
Good-morrow, brother Bedford: God Almighty!
There is fome foul of goodness in things evil,
Would men obfervingly diftil it out.

For our bad neighbour makes us early ftirrers,
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry.
Befides, they are our outward confciences,
And preachers to us all; admonishing
That we fhould drefs us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself.
Enter Erpingham.

Good-morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good foft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.

Erping. Not fo, my Liege; this lodging likes me better,

Since I may fay, now lye I like a King.

K. Henry. 'Tis good for men to love their present pain

2

Upon

Upon example; fo the spirit is eafed :

And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowfie grave, and newly move
With cafted flough and fresh celerity.
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas: brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our camp:
Do my good-morrow to them, and anon
Defire them all to my pavilion.

Glou. We fhall, my Liege.

Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
K. Henry. No, my good Knight,

Go with my brothers to my Lords of England:
I and my bofom muft debate a while,

And then I would no other company.

Erping. The Lord in heav'n bless thee, noble Harry!

[Exeunt. K. Henry. God-a-mercy old heart, thou fpeak'ft chear

fully.

SCENE II. Enter Piftol.

Pift. Qui va là?

K. Henry. A friend.

Pift. Difcufs unto me, art thou officer,
Or art thou bafe, common and popular?
K. Henry. I am a gentleman of a company?
Pift. Trail'ft thou the puiffant pike?

K. Henry. Ev'n fo: what are you?

Pift. As good a gentleman as the Emperor.

K. Henry. Then you are a better than the King.
Pift. The King's a bawcock, and a heart of gold,

A lad of life, an imp of fame,

Of parents good, of fift most valiant:

I kifs his dirty fhoe, and from my heart-ftring

I love the lovely bully. What's thy name?

K. Henry. Harry le Roy.

Pift. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew? K. Henry. No, I am a Welshman.

Pift, Know't thou Fluellen ?

K, Henry, Yes.

Pift.

Pift. Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate Upon St. David's day.

K. Henry. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, left he knock that about yours.

Pift. Art thou his friend?

K. Henry. And his kinfman too.
Pift. The Figo for thee then!

K. Henry. I thank you: God be with you.
Pift. My name is Pistol call'd.

K. Henry. It forts well with your fierceness.

P

[Exit.

[Manet King Henry.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gow. Captain Fluellen.

Flu. So, in the name of Chefbu Chrift, fpeak fewer : it is the greatest admiration in the univerfal orld, when the true and auncient prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept: if you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you fhall find, I warrant you, that there no tiddle taddle nor pibble pabble in Pompey's camp: I warrant you, you fhall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the fobrieties of it, and the modefty of it to be otherwise.

Gow. Why, the enemy is loud, you hear him all night, Flu. If the enemy is an Afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an Afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb ? in your own confcience now?

Gow. I will fpeak lower. Flu. I pray you and befeech you, that you will. [Exe. K. Henry. Tho' it appear a little out of fashion, There is much care and valour in this Welshman.

SCENE III.

Enter three Soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and

Michael Williams.

Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder?

Bates. I think it be, but we have no great caufe to defire the approach of day.

Will.

Will. We fee yonder the beginning of the day, but I think we fhall never fee the end of it, Who goes there? K. Henry. A friend.

Will. Under what captain serve you?

K. Henry. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham,

Will. A good old commander, and a moft kind gentleman: I pray you what thinks he of our eftate?

K. Henry. Even as men wreck'd upon a fand, that look to be wash'd off the next tide.

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

K. Henry. No; nor is it meet he should: for though I fpeak it to you, I think the King is but a man as I am : the violet fmells to him as it doth to me; the element" shews to him as it doth to me; all his fenfes have but human conditions. His ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness, he appears but a man; and tho' his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing; therefore when he fees reafon of fears as we do, his fears out of doubt be of the fame relish as ours are; yet in reason no man fhould poffefs him with any appearance of fear, left he, by fhewing it, fhould dishearten his army.

Bates. He may fhew 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 fo I would he were, and I by him at all adventures, fo we were quit here.

K. Henry. By my troth, I will fpeak my confcience of the King; I think he would not wish himself any where but where he is.

Bates. Then would he were here alone; fo fhould he be fure to be ranfomed, and many poor mens lives faved.

K. Henry. I dare fay, you love him not fo ill to wish him here alone; howfoever you fpeak this to feel other mens minds. Methinks I could not die any where fo contented as in the King's company; his cause being just, and his quarrel honourable.

Will. That's more than we know.

Bates, Ay, or more than we should feek after; for we know enough, if we know we are the King's fubjects: if his caufe be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us.

Will,

Will. But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make; when all thofe legs and arms and heads chop'd off in a battel fhall join together at the latter day, and cry all We dy'd at fuch a place; fome fwearing, fome crying for a furgeon; fome upon their wives left poor behind them; fome upon the debts they owe; fome upon their children rawly left. I am afear'd there are few die well that die in battle; for how can they charitably difpofe 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 disobey were against all proportion of fubjection.

K. Henry. So if a fon that is fent by his father about merchandize, do fall into fome lewd action and miscarry, the imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, fhould be impofed upon his father that fent him; or if a fervant under his master's command tranfporting a fum of mony, be affail'd by robbers, and die in many irreconcil'd iniquities, you may call the business of the mafter the author of the fervant's damnation; but this is not fo: the King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his foldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of his fervant; for they purpose not their death when they purpose their fervices. Befides, there is no King, be his caufe never fo fpotlefs, if it come to the arbitrement of fwords, can try it out with all unfpotted foldiers: fome peradventure have on them the guilt of premeditated and contrived murther; fome of beguiling virgins with the broken feals of perjury; fome making the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bofom of peace with pillage and robbery. Now if thefe men have defeated the law, and out-run native punishment; though they can out-ftrip men, they have no wings to fly from God. War is his bedel, war is his vengeance; fo that here men are punish'd for former breach of the King's laws in the King's quarrel now: where they feared the death, they have born life away, and where they would be fafe, they perish. Then if they die unprovided, no more is the King guilty of their damnation, than he was before guilty of thofe impieties for which they are now vifited. Every fubject's duty is the King's, but every fubject's