Familiar in their mouth as houfhold words,
Harry the King, Bedford, and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glofter,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his fon,
And Crispin Crifpian fhall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it fhall be remembered,

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er fo vile,
This day fhall* gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,

Shall think themselves accurs'd, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon St. Crifpian's day t
Enter Salisbury.

Sal. My fov'reign Lord, beftow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles fet,
And will with all expedience charge on us.

K. Henry. All things are ready, if our minds be fo. Weft. Perish the man, whofe mind is backward now !

K. Henry. Thou doft not wish more help from England, coufin?

Weft. God's will, my Liege. 'Would you and I alone Without more help could fight this royal battle!

From this day to the ending.] It may be obferved that we are apt to promife to ourselves a more lafting memory than the changing state of human things admits. This prediction is not verified; the feast of Criftin paffes by without any mention of Agincourt. Late events oblite

rate the former: the civil wars have left in this nation fcarcely any tradition of more ancient history.

* Gentle his condition.] This day fhall advance him to the rank of a gentleman.

+ Upon St. Crifpian's day.] This fpeech, like many others of the declamatory kind, is too long. Had it been contracted to about half the number of lines, it might have gained force, and loft none of the fentiments.

7 Bravely is fplendidly, oftentaticufly.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. Why, now thou haft unwish'd five thou-
fand men,

Which likes me better than to wifh us one.
-You know your places. God be with you all!

A Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy.

Mount. Once more I come to know of thee, King
Harry,

If for thy ranfom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy moft affured over-throw;

For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf,
Thou needs must be englutted. Thus, in mercy,
The Conftable defires thee. Thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance, that their fouls
May make a peaceful and a fweet retire

From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
Muft lie and fester.

K. Henry. Who hath fent thee now?

Mount. The Conftable of France.

K. Henry. I pray thee, bear my former anfwer back. Bid them atchieve me, and then fell my bones. Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus? The man, that once did fell the lion's fkin

While the beaft liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
And many of our bodies fhall, no doubt,
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brafs of this day's work.
And thofe that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, tho' buried in your dunghills,
They fhall be fam'd; for there the fun fhall greet them,
And draw their honours reeking up to heav'n,

Thou hast unwif'd five thouJand men.] By wifhing only thyfelf and me, thou haft wifhed five thousand men away. ShakeSpeare never thinks on fuch trifles as numbers. In the laft scene

the French are faid to be full threefcere theufand, which Exeter declares to be five to one; but, by the King's account, they are twelve to one.

Leaving their earthly parts to choak your clime,
The fell whereof fhall breed a plague in France.
Mark then a bounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,
Breaks out into a fecond courfe of mischief,
Killing in relapfe of mortality.

Let me fpeak proudly; tell the Conftable,
We are but warriors for the working day :
Our gaynefs, and our guilt, are all be-fmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field.
There's not a piece of feather in our hoft,
Good argument, I hope, we will not fly,
And time hath worn us into flovenry.
But, by the mafs, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poor foldiers tell me, yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes; or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French foldiers' heads;
And turn them out of fervice. If they do,
As, if God pleafe, they fhall, my ranion them
Will foon be levy'd. Herald, fave thy labour,
Come thou no more, for ranfom, gentle herald;
They fhall have none, I fwear, but thefe my joints:

That is, continuing to kill when they are the reliques that death has left behind it.

That the allufion is, as Mr. Theobald thinks, exceedingly beau tiful, I am afraid few readers will difcover. The valeur of a pu trid body, that defroys by the fench, is one of the thoughts that do no great honour to the poet. Perhaps from this putrid valour Dryden might borrow the pofthumous empire of Den Sebaftian, who was to rega wherefoever his atoms fhould be fcattered.

2 Warriers for the working

day] We are foldiers but coarfely dreffed, we have not on our holiday apparel.

Which if they have, as I will leave 'em them
Shall yield them little. Tell the Conftable.

Mount. I fhall King Harry, and fo fare thee well. Thou never hall hear herald any more.

[Exit. K. Henry. I fear, thou'lt once more come again for Ranfom.

Enter York.

York. My Lord, mcft humbly on my knee I beg The leading of the vaward.

K. Henry. Take it brave Fork; now, foldiers, march away.

And how thou pleafeft, God, difpofe the day! [Exeunt.

Alarm, Excurfions. Enter Pillol, French foldier,

Pi.

and Boy.

IELD, cur.

Fr. Sol. Je penfe, que vous etes le gentilbomme de bonne qualité.

Pift. Quality, calmy, culture me, art thou a gen• tleman? what is thy name? difcufs.

3

Fr, Sol. O Seigneur Dieu!

Pit. O, Signieur Dewe fhould be a gentleman. Perpend my words, O Signieur Dewe, and mark; O Signieur Dewe,thou dieit on point of fox,

3 Quality, CALMY, CUSTURE me, artthon agent man?] We fhould read this nonfenfe thus,

4 Thou diet on print of fex.] Point of fox is an expreffion which, if the editors understood

Quality,CALITY-CONSTRUE it, they fhould have explained,

me, arc thou a gentl man?

i. e. tell me, let me understand whether thou be't a gentleman. WARBURTON.

I fuppofe we may better read,

On point of faulchion.

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

Fr. Sol. O, prennez mifericorde, ayez pitié de moy.
Pist. 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. Eft-il impoffible d'efchapper la force de ton bras?

Pift. Brafs, cur.

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

Fr: Sol. O pardonnez moy.

moys

?

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

Boy. Escoutez, comment elles vous appellé ?
Fr. Sol. Monfieur le Fer.

Boy. He fays his name is Mr. Fer.

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 heure de couper voftre gorge.

Pift. Owy, cuppelle gorg, paramafoy, pesant,
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 fuis gentilhomme de bonne maison, gardez ma vie, & je vous donneray deux cent efcus.

May is a piece of money, whence Moi d'or, or mo: of gold.