Con. Nor will do none to morrow: he will keep that good name still..

Orl. I know him to be valiant.

Con. I was told that, by one that knows him better

than you.

Orl. What's he?

Con. Marry, he told me fo himself; and he faid, he car'd not who knew it.

Orl. He needs not, it is no hidden virtue in him.

Con. By my faith, Sir, but it is; never any body faw it, but his lacquey; 'tis a hooded valour, and when it appears, it will bate.

Orl. Ill will never faid well.

Con. I will cap that proverb with, There is flattery in friendship.

Orl. And I will take up that with, Give the Devil his due.

Con. Well plac'd; there ftands your friend for the devil; have at the very eye of that proverb with, Apox of the devil!

Orl. You are the better at proverbs, by how much a fool's bolt is foon foot.

Con. You have fhot over.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were over-fhot.

Enter a Meffenger.

Meff. My Lord high Constable, the English lye within fifteen hundred paces of your tents.

Con. Who hath measur'd the ground?

Me. The lord Grandpree.

Con. A valiant and moft expert gentleman

Would

it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for the dawning as we do.

Orl. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers fo far out of his knowledge?

Con If the English had any apprehenfion, they would

run away.

Orl. That they lack; for if their heads had any inVOL. IV.

P

tellectual

tellectual armour, they could never wear fuch heavy head-pieces.

Ram. That Ifland of England breeds very valiant creatures; their maftiffs are of unmatchable courage.

Orl. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Ruffian Bear, and have their heads crush'd like rotten apples. You may as well fay, that's a valiant Flea, that dares eat his breakfaft on the lip of a Lion.

Con. Juft, juft; and the men do fympathize with the maftiffs in robuftious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives; and then give them great meals of beef, and iron and fteel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.

Orl. Ay; but thefe English are fhreudly out of beef. Con. Then fhall we find to morrow, they have only ftomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm; come, fhall we about it ?

Orl. 'Tis two o'clock; but (let me fee) by ten, We fhall have each a hundred Englishmen.

Enter Chorus.

Now entertain conjecture of a time,

When creeping murmur, and the poring dark,
Fills the wide veffel of the universe.

[Exeunt.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
The hum of either army ftilly founds;

That the fixt centinels almoft receive

The fecret whispers of each other's watch.

Fire anfwers fire; and through their paly flames
Each battel fees the other's umber'd face.
Steed threatens fteed, in high and boastful neigh
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers accomplishing the knights,
With bufie hammers clofing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll;
And (the third hour of droufie morning nam'd)
Proud of their numbers and fecure in foul,
The confident and over-lufty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;

And

And chide the cripple tardy-gated night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, does limp
So tedioufly away. The poor condemned English
Like facrifices, by their watchful fires

Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The morning's danger: and their gefture fad,
Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,
Presented them unto the gazing moon

So many horrid ghofts. Who now beholds
The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him cry, Praife and glory on his head!
For forth he goes and vifits all his hoft,
Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note,
How dread an army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night :
But freshly looks and over-bears attaint,
With chearful femblance and sweet majesty:
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 unworthinefs define) (19)

A little touch of Harry in the night.
And so our scene muft to the battle fly:

(19)

Fear; that mean and gentle all Behold, (as may, &c.] As this ftood, it was a moft perplex'd and nonfenfical Paffage and could not be intelligible, but as I have corrected it. The Poet, firft, expatiates on the real InAuence that Harry's Eye had on his Camp: and then addreffing himself to every Degree of his Audience, he tells them; he'll fhew (as well as his unworthy Pen and Powers can describe it) a little Touch, or Sketch of this Hero in the Night: a faint Refemblance of that Chearfulness and Refolution which this brave Prince express'd in himself, and inspired in his Followers.

Where, O for pity! we fhall much disgrace,
With four or five moft 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. [Exit.

SCENE, the English Camp, at Agincourt, Enter King Henry, Bedford and Gloucester..

G

King HENRY.

Lou'fter, 'tis true, that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore fhou'd our courage be.
Good morrow, brother Bedford: God Almighty!
There is fome foul of goodnefs 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.

1

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 prefent pain Upon example; fo the fpirit is eafed :

And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt,
The organs, though defunct and dead before,

Break

Break up their drowfie grave, and newly move
With cafted flough and fresh legerity.

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 pavillion.
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 heaven bless thee, noble Harry F

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

chearfully.

Pift. Qui va là?

K. Henry. A friend.

Enter Pistol.

Pift. Difcufs unto me, art thou officer, Or art thou base, common and popular?

་

K. Henry. I am a gentleman of a company.
Pift. Trail'ft thou the puiffant pike ?

K. Henry. Even 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 Cornists

crew?

K. Henry. No, I am a Welshman.

Pift. Know'st thou Fluellen?

K. Henry. Yes.

Pift. Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate,

Upon St. David's day.