Except, O Signieur, thou do give to me
Egregious fantom.

Fr. Sol. O, prennez mifericorde, ayez pitié de moy. Pift. Moy fhall not ferve, I will have forty moys; "For I will fetch thy rym out at thy throat,

In drops of crimson blood.

Fr. Sol. Est-il impoffible d'efchapper la force de ton bras?

Thou damned and luxurious mountain Goat,
Offer'ft me brass?

Fr. Sol. O pardonnez moy.

Pift. Say't thou me fo? is that a ton of moys Come hither, Boy, ask me this flave in French, What is his name?

Boy. Efcoutez, comment eftes vous appelle?
Fr. Sol. Monfieur le Fer.

SH

Boy. He fays his name is Mr. Fer. amonita

Pift. Mr. Fer! I'll fer him, and ferk him, and ferret him difcufs the fame in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and ferk.

Pift. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat. Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, Monfieur?

Boy. Il me commande de vous dire que vous vous teniez preft; car ce foldat icy eft difpofe tout à cette beure de couper voftre gorge.

Pift. Owy, cuppelle gorg, paramafoy, pefant,
Unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns,
Or mangled fhalt thou be by this my fword.

Fr. Sol. O, je vous fupplie pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner je juis gentilhomme de bonne maison, gardez vous donneray deux cent escus." ~!!!?

ma vie,

je

to fuppofe that it ftands for fome monofyllable; and befides, ranfome is a word not likely to have been corrupted,

6 May is a piece of money, whence Moi d'or, or moi of gold.

at are his wordless
his words?

Pift. What

Boy. He prays you to fave his life, he is a gentleman of a good house, and for his ranfom he will give you hundred crowns.

Pift. Tell him, my fury shall abate, and I The Crowns will take.

boold Fr. Sol. Petit Monfieur, que dit-il?

Boy. Encore qu'il eft contre fon jurement, de pardonner aucun prifonnier, neantmoins pour les efcus que vous l'avez promettes, il eft content de vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.

Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciemens, & je m' eftime beureux que je fuis tombé entre les mains d'un Chevalier, je penfe, le plus brave, valiant, &tres eftimé Signeur d'Angleterre.

Pift. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you upon his knees a thousand thanks and efteems himself happy that he hath fall'n into the hands of one, as he thinks, the moft brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy Signieur of England.

Pift. As I fuck blood, I will fome mercy fhew. Follow me, cur.

Boy. Suivez le grand capitain.

[Ex. Pilt. and Fr. Sol. I did never know fo full a voice iffue from fo empty a heart; but the faying is true, The empty veffel makes the greatest found. Bardolph and Nim had ten times more valour than this roaring devil i' th' old play"; every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger: and fo would this be, if he any thing I must stay with the lacqueys, with the luggage of our camp; the French might have a good prey of us, if he knew of it for there is none to guard it but boys.

yet they are both havent roufly..

:

In modern puppet-fhows, which feem to be copied from the old farces, Punch fometimes fights the devil and always over

[Exit.

comes him. I fuppofe the Vice of the old farce, to whom Punch fucceeds, ufed, to fight the devil with a wooden dagger. Gg 4

SCENE

Another part of the Field of Battle.

Enter Conftable, Orleans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and Rambures.

Orl. O Signeur! le jour eft perdu, tout eft perdu.

Dau. Mort de ma vie ! all is confounded, all! Reproach and everlasting fhame

Sits mocking in our plumes.

[A bort alarm. O mefchante fortune!do not run away. Con. Why, all our ranks are broke.

Dau. O perdurable thame! let's ftab ourselves. Be thefe the wretches, that we play'd at dice for? Orl. Is this the King we fent to for his ranfom? Bour. Shame, and eternal fhame, nothing but fhame! Let us die, inftant-Once more back again; The man, that will not follow Bourbon now,

8

Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand
Like a bafe pander hold the chamber door,
Whilft by a flave, no gentler than a dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminated.

Con. Disorder, that hath fpoil'd us, friend us now! Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

Orl. We are enow, yet living in the field, To fmother up the English in our throngs;

If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng Let life be fhort, elfe fhame will be too long. [Exeunt.

*

Let us d'e, inftant: Once think, I have retriev'd the Poet's more back again ;] This Senfe. It is thus in the Old CoVerfe, which is quite left out py in Mr. Pope's Edi ions, ftands imperfect in the first Folio. By the addition of a Syllable, I

Let us die in once more back

again.

THEOBALD.

SCENE

SCENE XII.

Alarm. Enter the King and his train, with prisoners, K. Henry. Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen.

But all's not done; the French yet keep the field.
Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your
Majesty.

K. Henry. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within

this hour

I saw him down, thrice up again, and fighting,
From helmet to the fpur all bleeding o'er.

Exe. In which array, brave foldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody fide,
Yoak-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk alfo lies.

Suffolk first dy'd, and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him where in gore he lay infteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kiffes, the gafhes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face,
And cries aloud, starry, my cousin Suffolk,
"My foul fhall thine keep company to heav'n:
"Tarry, fweet foul, for mine, then fly a-breaft
"As in this glorious and well-foughten field
"We kept together in our chivalry."
Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up;
He fmil'd me in the face, gave me his hand,
And with a feeble gripe, fays,

dear my Lord,

"Commend my fervice to my Sovereign."

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kift his lips,
And fo efpous'd to death, with blood he feal'd

A teftament of noble ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd

Thofe waters from me, which I would have stop'd; But I had not fo much of man in me,

But all my mother came into mine eyes,

And gave me up to tears.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. I blame you not;

o

For, hearing this, I muft perforce compound With mitful eyes, or they will iffue too, [[Alarni, But, hark, what new alarum is this fame?3 5212 The French have re-inforc'd their fcatter'd ment Then every foldier kill his prisoners. von Lam 10

Give the word through.

'SCENE

# flom [Exeunt

XIII w od talk

Alarms continued, after which, Enter Fluellen and

2

Gower.

Elu. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis exprefly against the law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of

""one. The

For, hearing this, I must perforce compound With mixtful eyes,] The poet must have wrote, mifful: i. e. just ready to over-run with tears. The word he took from his obfervation of Nature for the buriling of

tears the eyes growing out in

a mist.

I

WARBURTON.

SCENE XIII.] Here, in the other editions, they begin the fourth act. very abfurdly, fince both the place and time evidently continue, and the words of Flu elien immediately follow thofe of the King juft before. POPE.

Kill the Payes and the lug. gage! exprefly against the Law of Arms;] in the Old Fohols, the 4th Act is made to begin here, but as the Matter of the Chorus, which is to come betwixt the 4th and 5th Acts, will by no means fort with the Scene

that here follows; I have chofe to fall in with the other Regulation. Mr. Pofe gives a Keaton, why this Scene fhould

be connective to the preceding!
Scene; but his Reason, accord-
to 5.
is a mistaken
of Fluellen (be
fays,) immediately follow thofe of
the King just before. The King's
laft Words, at his going off,
were;

when ev'ry Soldier kill his Pri

Joners:

Give the Word through." Now Mr. Pope must very accurately suppose, that Fluellen overhears this: and that by replying: Kill the Poyes, and the luggage 'tis exprefly against the Law of Arms--he is condemning the King's Order, as against mar tial Difcipline. But this is a most abfurd Suppofition. Fluck len neither overhears, nor replies to, what the King had faid: nor has kill the Poyes and the Luggage any reference to the Soldiers? killing their Prifoners. Nay, on the contrary (as thereis no Interval of an Act here) there muft be fome little Paufe betwixt the King's going off, and Fluellen's

Entring