Enter Gloucester.

K. Henry. My brother Glofter's voice? I know thy errand, I will go with thee,

The day, my friends, and all things ftay for me.

Changes to the French Camp.

Enter the Dauphin, Orleans, Rambures and Beaumont.

THE Sun does gild our armour; up, my
Lords.

Dau. Montez Cheval: my horfe, valet, lacquay:

Orl. O brave spirit!

Dau. Via!--les eaux & la terre.

Orl. Rien puis! le air && feu.

Day. Ciel! Coufin Orleans.

Enter Conflable.

Now, my Lord Conftable!

Con. Hark, how our Steeds for préfent fervice neigh.

Dau. Mount them, and make incifion in their hides, That their hot blood may fpin in English eyes, And daunt them with fuperfluous courage: ha! Ram. What, will you have them weep our Horfes' blood?

How fhall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter a Messenger.

Meff. The English are embattel'd, you French Peers. Con. To horfe! you gallant Princes, ftrait to horse! Do but behold yon poor and starved band,

And your fair fhew fhall fuck away their fouls;
Leaving them but the fhales and hufks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands,
Scarce blood enough in all their fickly veins
To give each naked curtle-ax a stain ;
That our French gallants fhall to-day draw out,
And sheath for lack of fport. Let's but blow on them,
The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
'Tis pofitive 'gainst all exception, Lords,
That our fuperfluous lacqueys and our peasants,
Who in unneceffary action fwarm

About our fquares of battle, were enow
To purge this field of fuch a hilding foe;
Tho' we, upon this mountain's basis by,
Took ftand for idle fpeculation;

But that our honours n.uft not. What's to say?
A very little, little, let us do ;

And all is done. Then let the trumpets found
The tucket fonance, and the note to mount,

For our approach shall so much dare the field, That England fhall couch down in fear, and yield.

The tucket-fonance, &c.] He ufes terms of the field as if they were going out only to the chafe for fport. To dare the field is a phrafe in falconry. Birds are dared when, by the falcon in the

air, they are terrified from rifing, fo that they will be fometimes taken by the hand.

Such an eafy capture the lords expected to make of the Englib.

Enter

Enter Grandpree.

Grand. Why do you ftay fo long, my Lords of

France?

Yon Inland carrions, defp'rate of their bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the morning field:
Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air fhakes them paffing fcornfully.
Big Mars feems bankrupt in their beggar'd hoft,
And faintly through a rusty bever peeps.
The horsemen fit like fixed candlesticks,
With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hide and hips:
The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes;
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bitt
Lies foul with chew'd grafs, ftill and motionless:
And their executors, the knavifh Crows,
Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.
Description cannot fuit itself in words,
To demonftrate the life of fuch a battle,
In life fo livelefs as it fhews itself.

Con. They've faid their prayers, and they ftay for death.

Dau. Shall we go fend them dinners and fresh suits, And give their fafting Horfes provender, And, after, fight with them?

Con. I ftay but for my guard: on, to the field; I will the banner from a trumpet take,

And use it for my hafte. Come, come, away!
The fun is high, and we out-wear the day. [Exeunt.

2 Gimmal is in the western countries a ring; a gimmal bit is therefore a bit of which the parts were one within another.

3 Their executors, the knavish

crows] The crows who are to have the difpofal of what they fhall leave, their hides and their

flesh.

4 I fay but for my guard.] It feems, by what follows, that guard in this place means rather fomething of ornament or of diftinction than a body of attendants.

SCENE

Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham, with all the Ioft; Salibury and Weltmorland.

Glou.

HERE is the King?

WH

Bed. The King himself is rode to view

their battle.

Weft. Of fighting men they have full threefcore thousand.

Exe. There's five to one; befides, they all are fresh. Sal. God's arm ftrike with us, 'tis a fearful odds! God be wi'you, Princes all; I'll to my charge. If we no more meet till we meet in heav'n, Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Glofter, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinfman, warriors all, adieu!

Bed. Farewel, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee! S

Exe. to Sal. Farewel, kind Lord; fight valiantly to-day :

And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valcur.

[Exit Sal. Bed. He is as full of valour, as of kindness Princely in both.

Enter King Henry.

Weft. O, that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to day!

In the old editions:
Bed. Farewel, good Salisbury,
and good Luck go with thee,
And yet I do thee wrong to mind
thee of its

For thou art fram'd of the firm

Truth of Valour. Exe. Farwel, kind Lord: fight valiantly to-day.] What!

does he do Salifury Wrong to with him good iuck? The ingenious Dr. Thirley prefcrib'd to me the Tranípofition of the Verfes, which I have made in the Text: and the old Quarto's plainly lead to fuch a Regula tion.

THEOBALD.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. What's he, that wishes fo?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair coufin,
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country lofs; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater fhare of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, with not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous of gold,
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my coft,
It yerns me not, if men my garments wear,
Such outward things dwell not in my defires;
But if it be a fin to covet honour,

I am the most offending foul alive.

No, faith, my Lord, with not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lofe fo great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hopes I have. Don't with one more;
Rather proclaim it (Weftmorland) through my hoft,
That he, which hath no ftomach to this fight,
Let him depart: his pafs-port fhall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse :
We would not die in that man's company,.
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crifpian.

He that out-lives this day, and comes fafe home,
Will ftand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouze him at the name of Crifpian;
He that shall live this day, and fee old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feaft his neighbours,
And fay, to-morrow is Saint Crifpian;
Then will he ftrip his fleeve, and fhew his fears.
Old men forget; yet fhall not all forget,

But they'll remember, † with advantages,

What feats they did that day. Then fhall our names,.

By Jove] The king prays like a christian, and swears like a heathen.

+ With advantages.] Old men, notwithstanding the natural forgetfulness of age, fhall rememVOL. IV.

ber their feats of this day, and remember to tell them with advantage. Age is commonly boat. ful, and inclined to magnify paft acts and past times.

G g

Fa