Sweeten the bitter mock you fent his Majefty; Dau. Say, if my father render fair reply, Nothing but odds with England; to that end, mock Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, Fr. King. To-morrow you shall know our mind at full. [Flourish. Exe. Difpatch us with all speed, left that our King Come here himself to queftion our delay; For he is footed in this land already. Fr. King. You fhall be foon difpatch'd with fair conditions: A night is but small breath, and little paufe, †A CT III. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Enter CHORUS. Chorus. T HUS with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies, + Shall hide your trefpafs,-] Mr. Pope rightly corrected it, Shall chide *A& III. SCENE I.] This whole A&t (and all the Rest of the Play) very much enlarged and improved by the Author, fince the Editions of 1600, and 1608. Mr. Pope. In motion of no lefs celerity Than that of thought. Suppofe, that you have seen With filken ftreamers the young Phabus fanning. Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, Follow. With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. [Exit. SCENE SCENE II. Before HARFLEUR. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucefter; Soldiers, with fealing ladders. K. Henry. O NCE more unto the breach, dear Or close the wall up with the English dead. But when the blaft of war blows in our ears, O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base, Have in these parts from morn till even fought, That thofe, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you. And teach them how to war; and you, good yeomen, That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not: I fee you ftand like Greyhounds in the flips, Bard. [Exeunt King, and Train. [Alarm, and Cannon go off. SCENE III. Enter Nim, Bardolph, Piftol, and Boy. N, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach. ON, Nim. 'Pray thee, corporal, ftay; the knocks are too hot; and for mine own part, I have not a cafe of lives: the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain fong of it. Pift. The plain fong is moft juft; for humours do abound: Knocks go and come: God's vaffals drop and die: And sword and fhield, in bloody field, doth win immortal fame. Boy. Wou'd I were in an ale-houfe in London, I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and fafety. Pift. And I; if wishes would prevail, I wou'd not stay, but thither would I hye. Enter Fluellen. Flu. Up to the breach, you dogs; avaunt, you cullions. Pift. Be merciful, great Duke, to men of mould, Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage; Good bawcock, 'bate thy rage; ufe lenity, sweet chuck. Nim. These be good humours; your honour wins bad humours.. [Exeunt. Boy. As young as I am, I have obferved thefe three fwashers. I am boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to to me; for, indeed, three fuch Antics do not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and redfac'd; by the means whereof he faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue, and a quiet fword; by the means whereof he breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nim, he hath heard, that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, left he should be thought a coward; but his few bad words are match'd with as few good deeds, for he never broke any man's head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will fteal any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph ftole a lute-cafe, bore it twelve leagues, and fold it for three half-pence. Nim and Bardolph are fworn brothers in filching; and in Calais they ftole a fire-fhovel. I knew by that piece of fervice, the men would carry coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets, as their gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my manhood; for if I would take from another's pocket to put into mine, it is plain pocketting up of wrongs. I must leave them, and feek fome better service; their villany goes againft my weak ftomach, and therefore I must caft it [Exit Boy. up. Enter Gower, and Fluellen. Gower. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. Flu. To the mines? tell you the Duke, it is not fo good to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines are not according to the disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not fufficient; for, look you, th' athverfary (you may difcufs unto the Duke, look you) is digt himself four yards under the countermines; by Cheflu, I think, a'will plow up all, if there is not petter directions. Gower. The Duke of Gloucefter, to whom the order M of |