you been as I took you for, I made 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, 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 pelly. Hold, there is twelve pence for you, and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions; and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you. Will. I will none of your money. Flu. It is with a goot 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 goot: 't is a goot silling, I warrant you, or I will change it. Enter an English Herald. K. Hen. Now, herald, are the dead number'd? K. Hen. [Delivers a Paper. 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, Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen, The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, 'squires, The names of those their nobles that lie dead, The master of the cross-bows, lord Rambures; Great-master of France, the brave Sir Guischard Dauphin; And Edward duke of Bar: of lusty earls, Grandpré, and Roussi, Fauconberg, and Foix, Where is the number of our English dead? [Herald presents another Paper. Edward the duke of York, the earl of Suffolk, But five and twenty. O God! thy arm was here, Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem, - But in plain shock, and even play of battle, On one part and on th' other? - Take it, God, 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 acknowledgment, That God fought for us. Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did us great goot. K. Hen. Do we all holy rites: Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum. The dead with charity enclos'd in clay, [Exeunt. And then to Calais; and to England then, Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men. ACT V. Enter CHORUS. Chor. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story, Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him! much more, and much more cause, Invites the king of England's stay at home: SCENE I. France. An English Court of Guard. Enter FLUELLEN and Gower. [Exit. Gow. Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past. Flu. There is occasions, and causes, why and wherefore, in all things: I will tell you, as my friend, captain Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, 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 a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so pold 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. Gow. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock. Enter PISTOL. Flu. 'T is no matter for his swellings, nor his turkey-cocks. Got pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, Got pless you! Pist. Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca's fatal web? Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek. at my de Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy lowsy knave, sires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it. Pist. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats. Flu. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.] Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it? Flu. You say very true, scald knave, when Got's will is. I will desire you to live in the come, there is sauce for it. mean time, and eat your victuals: [Striking him again.] You called me yesterday, mountain-squire, but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. Gow. Enough, captain: you have astonished him. or I Flu. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, will peat his pate four days. Pite, I pray you; it is goot for your green wound, and your ploody coxcomb. Pist. Must I bite? Flu. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of question too, and ambiguities. Pist. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge. I eat, and Flu. Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by. Pist. Quiet thy cudgel: thou dost see, I eat. Flu. Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see lecks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all. Pist. Good. your pate. Pist. Me a groat! - Hold you; there is a groat to heal |