To know what willing ransom he will give.
Prince Dauphin, you fhall ftay with us in Roan.
Dau. Not fo, I do befeech your Majesty.

Fr. King. Be patient, for you fhall remain with us.
Now forth, Lord Constable, and Princes all;
And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

Gow.

H

SCENE, the English Camp.

Enter Gower and Fluellen.

[Exeunt.

WOW now, captain Fluellen, come you from the bridge?

Flu. I affure you, there is very excellent fervices committed at the pridge.

Gow. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?

Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon, and a man that I love and honour with my foul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and my uttermoft power. He is not, God be praised and pleffed, any hurt in the world; he is maintain the pridge moft valiantly, with excellent difcipline. There is an Antient lieutenant there at the pridge, I think, in my very confcience, he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony, and he is a man of no eftimation in the world, but I did fee him do gallant fervices.

Gow. What do you call him?

Flu. He is call'd Antient Pistol.
Gow. I know him not.

Enter Piftol.

Flu. Here is the man.

Pift. Captain, I thee befeech to do me favours: The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

Flu. I, I praife God, and I have merited fome love at his hands.

Pift. Bardolph, a foldier firm and found of heart,

And buxom valour, hath by cruel fate,

And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel,

That

That Goddess blind that stands upon the rolling restless ftone

Flu. By your patience, Antient Pistol: Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to fignifie to you that fortune is plind; and fhe is painted alfo with a wheel, to fignifie to you, which is the moral of it, that fhe is turning and inconftant, and mutabilities and variations; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a fspherical stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles; in good truth, the Poet makes a moft excellent defcription of it: fortune is an excellent moral.

Pift. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; For he hath ftoln a Pix, and hanged muft a' be; damned death! (26)

Let gallows gape for dog, let man go
free,
And let not hemp his wind-pipe fuffocate;
But Exeter hath given the doom of death,
For Pix of little price. Therefore go fpeak,
The Duke will hear thy voice;

And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut

(26) For be bath ftoln a Pax,] Thus all the Editions, from the very firft: "And this is conformable to Hiftory, (fays Mr. Pope ;) a Soldier (as Hall tells us) being hang'd at this Time for fuch a Fact.”—But to fee this Gentleman's Accuracy, and Inaccuracy, in one and the fame Circumstance! Both Hall and Holinghead agree as to the point of the Theft; but as to the Thing ftoln, there is not that Conformity betwixt them and Mr. Pope. But let us fee, what is understood by a Pax. It was an antient Custom, at the Celebration of Mafs, that when the Priest pronounc'd these Words, Pax Domini fit femper vobifcum! The Peace of the Lord be always with you! both Clergy and People kiss'd one another. And This was call'd Ofculum Pacis, the Kifs of Peace. But that Custom being abrogated, a certain Image is now presented to be kifs'd, which, as moft Catholicks know, is call'd a Pax. (Vid. Du Frefne's Gloffary Media & Infima Latinitatis; and from Him, the Gloffary fubjoin'd to Urrey's CHAUCER: for that Poet talks of kiffing Pax, in his Parfon's Tale.) But it was not this Image, which Bardolfe ftole; it was a Pix; or little Cheft, (from the Latin Word, Pixis, a Box ;) in which the confecrated Hoft was used to be kept. "A foolish Soldier " (fays Hall exprefsly, and Holinghead after him ;) ftale a Pix out of a "Church; and unreverently did eat the holy Heftes within the fame con"tained." Is there the least Queftion, but that our Poct's Text must be fet right from these Chroniclers?

With edge of penny-cord, and vile reproach.

Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. Flu. Antient Piftol, I do partly understand your meaning.

Pift. Why then rejoice therefore.

Flu. Certainly, Antient, it is not a thing to rejoice at; for if, look you, he were my brother, I would defire the Duke to ufe his good pleafure, and put him to executions; for difciplines ought to be used.

Pift. Die and be damn'd, and Figo for thy friendship!

Flu. It is well.

Pift. The fig of Spain-
Flu. Very good.

[Exit Pift.

Gow. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rafcal, I remember him now; a bawd, a cut-purse.

Flu. I'll affure you, he utt'red as prave words at the pridge, as you shall see in a fummer's day but it is very well; what he has fpoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.

Gow. Why 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself at his return into London, under the form of a foldier. Such fellows are perfect in the great commanders names, and they will learn you by rote where fervices were done; at such and fuch a fconce, at fuch a breach, at fuch a convoy ; who came off bravely, who was fhot, who difgrac'd, what terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the phrafe of war, which they trick up with newturned oaths: And what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid fute of the camp, will do among foaming bottles and ale-wafh'd wits, is wonderful to be thought on! But you muft learn to know fuch flanders of the age, or elfe you may be marvelously mistook.

Flu. I tell you what, captain Gower; I do perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly make fhew to the world he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind; hear you, the King is coming, and I muft fpeak with him from the pridge. (27)

Drum

(27) The King is coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.] "Speak with him from the Bridge, Mr. Pope tells us, is added in the lat

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"ter

Drum and Colours. Enter the King, and his poor foldiers. Flu. God plefs your Majefty.

K. Henry. How now, Fluellen, cam'ft thou from the bridge?

Flu. I, fo please your Majefty: the Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintain'd the pridge; the French is gone off, look you, and there is gallant and moft prave paffages; marry, th' athverfary was have poffeffion of the pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is mafter of the pridge: I can tell your Majefty, the Duke is a prave man.

K. Henry. What men have you loft, Fluellen?

Flu. The perdition of th' athverfary hath been very great, very reasonable great; marry, for my part, I think, the Duke hath loft never a man but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your Majefty know the man: his face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips blows at his nofe, and it is like a coal of fire, fometimes plue, and fometimes red; but his nofe is executed, and his fire's out.

K. Henry. We would have fuch offenders fo cut off;
And give exprefs charge, that in all our march
There fhall be nothing taken from the villages,
But fhall be paid for; and no French upbraided,
Or
yet abused in disdainful language;

When lenity and cruelty play for kingdoms,
The gentler gamefter is the fooneft winner.

"ter Editions; but that it is plain from the Sequel, that the Scene here "continues, and the affair of the Bridge is over." Tis plain, this is a most inaccurate Criticism, and worthy only of its Author. The Scene, 'tis true, continues, and the Affair of the Bridge is over; but these Words are to be continued for all That. Tho the Affair of the Bridge be over, is That a Reason, that the King muft receive no Intelligence from thence? Fluellen, who comes from the Bridge, means no more than this, that he wants to acquaint the King with the Tranfactions that had happen'd there, and with the Duke of Exeter's having repuls'd the French from thence. And this is what he calls fpeaking to the King from the Bridge.

Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy.

Mount. You know me by my habit.

K. Henry. Well then, I know thee; what fhall I know of thee?

Mcunt. My master's mind.

K. Henry. Unfold it.

[land,

Mount. Thus fays my King: fay thou to Harry Eng-
Although we seemed dead, we did but fleep:
Advantage is a better foldier than rafhnefs.

Tell him, we could at Harfleur have rebuk'd him;
But that we thought not good to bruise an injury,
Till it were ripe. Now fpeak we on our cue,
With voice imperial: England fhall repent
His folly, fee his weakness, and admire
Our fuffrance. Bid him therefore to confider,
What must the ranfom be, which muft proportion
The loffes we have born, the fubjects we

Have loft, and the difgrace we have digefted;
To answer which, his pettinefs would bow under.
Firft for our lofs, too poor is his Exchequer ;
For the effufion of our blood, his army
Too faint a number; and for our disgrace,
Ev'n his own perfon kneeling at our feet
A weak and worthlefs fatisfaction.

To this, defiance add; and for conclufion,
Tell him he hath betray'd his followers,
Whofe condemnation is pronounc'd. So far
My King and mafter; and fo much my office.

K. Henry. What is thy name? I know thy quality.
Mount. Mountjoy.

K. Henry. Thou do'ft thy office fairly. Turn thee back, And tell thy King, I do not feek him now;

But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment; for, to say the footh,
(Though 'tis no wisdom to confefs fo much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage)
My people are with fickness much enfeebled,
My numbers leffen'd; and thofe few I have,
Almost no better than fo many French;

Who