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Exe. In which array, bráve Soldier, doth ke lye:
Larding the Plain; and by his bloody lide,
(Yoak-fellow to his Honour-owing wounds)
The Noble Earl of Suffolk also lyes.
Sufolk firit dyed, and York all baględ over
Có mes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
Arid takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his Face,
He cries aloud: Tarry, my Cousin Suffolk,
My Soul. {hall;thine keep.company to Heaven:
Tarry, sweet Soul, for mine, then fly a-breaft:
As in this glorious and well-foughten Field
We kept together in our Chevalry.
Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up;
He smild me in the Face, raught me his Hand,
And with a feeble gripe, says, Dear my Lord,
Commend

my Service to my Soveraign;
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's Neck
He threw his wounded Arm, and kist bis Lips,
And so espous'd to Death, with Blood he feald
A Testament of Noble-ending Love:
The

pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd
Thole waters from me, which I would have stop'd,
But I had not so much of Man in me,
And all

my

Mother came into mine Eyes,
And gave me up to Tears.

K. Henry. I blame you not,
For hearing this l mult perforce compound
With mixetul Eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarm,
But heark, what new Alarum is this fame?
The French have re-inforc'd their scatter'd Men:
Then
every

Soldier kill his Prisoners.
Give the word through.

Exeunt.

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A CT IV. SCENE I.

Flu. K"

Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Ill the poyes and the luggage, 'tis expresly 4-

gainst the Law of Arms, 'tis as arrant a piece of Knavery, mark you now, as can be offerd in your Conscience now, is it not?

Gow. 'Tis certain, there's not a Boy left alive, and the Cowardly Rascals that ran away from the Battel ha' done this Slaughter; besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the King's Tent, wherefore the King mot worthily hath caus'd every Spldier to cut his Prisoner's Throat. O'sis a gallant King.

Flu. I, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower; what call you the Town's Name, where Alexander the pig was born ?

Gow. Alexander the Great.

Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous are all one reckonings, save the Phrase is a little yariations.

Gow. I think Alexander the Great was born in Man cedon, his Father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn: 1 tell you Captain, if you look in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant that you fall find in the comparisons between Moe cedon and Monmouth, ihat the Situations, look you, is both alike. There is a River in Macedon, there is also moreover a River at Pionmouth, it is ca!ld Wye at Monmouth; bat it is out of my prains, what is the Name of the other River, but'tis all one, 'is as like as my Fi: gers to my Fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's Life well, Harry of Monmouth's Life is come after it indifferent well, for there is Figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and you know, in bis rages, and his furies, and his

wraths,

wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his Ales and his Angers, look you, kill his best Friend Clytus.

Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he never kill'd any of his Friends.

Flx. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the Tales out of my Mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the Figures, and Comparisons of it; as Alexander kill'd his Friend Clytus, being in his Ales and bis Cups; fo alfo Harry Monmouth being in his right wits, and his good judgments, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly Doublet; he was full of jest, and gypes, and knayeries, and mocks, I have forgot his Name.

Gow, Sir fon Faltaf

Flu. That is he: i'll tell you, there is good Men pora at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his Majesty.
Aarum. Enter King Harry and Bourbon with Prisoners,

Lords and Atte ants, Flourish.
K. Henry. I was not angry since I came to France,
Until this instant. Take a Truniper, Herald,
Ride thou unto the Horsemen on yond Hill :
It they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the Field; they do offend our sight.
If they'll do neither, we will come to them,
And make them sker away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian Slings:
Besides, we'll cut the Throats of those we have,
And not a Man of them that we Mall take,
Shall taste our Mercy. Go and tell them fo.

Enter Mountjoy.
Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege.
Glo. His Eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.
K.Henry. How now, what means their Herald? Kaow'A

thou not,
That I have find thefe Bones of mine for Ransom,
Com't thou again for Ransom?

Mount. No, great King :
I come to thee for charitable License,

That

That we may wander o'er this bloody Field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them:
To fort our Nobles from our common Men;
For

many of our Princes, woe the while,
Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary Blood :
So do our vulgar drench their peasant Limbs
In blood of Princes, and with wounded Steeds
Fret fet-lock deep in gore, and with wild rage
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead Masters,
Killing them twice. O give us leave, great King,
To view the field in safety, and dispose
Of their dead Bodies.

K. Henry. I tell thee truly, Herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no,
For yet a many

of
your
Horsemea

peer, And gallop o'er the Field.

Mount. The day is yours: K. Henry. Praised be God, and not our strength for it: What is this Castle call’d, that stands hard by?

Mount. They call it Agincourt.

K. Henry. Then call we this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crifpianus,

Flu. Your Grand'ather of famous Memory, an'c pleafe your Majesty, and your great Uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales; as I have read in the Chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

X. Henry. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your Majesty says very true: If your Majesties is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good service in a Garden where Leeks did grow, wearing Leeks in their Monmouth Caps, which your Majesty know to this hour is an honourable Padge of the service; and I do believe your Majesty takes no scorn to wear the Leek upon St. Tavie's day.

K. Henry. I wear it for a memorable Honour: For I am Welch, you know, good Countryman.

Flu. All the Water in Wye cannot wash your Majesties Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that God pless

, and preserve it, as long as it pleases his Grace, and his Majesty too. K, Henry. Thanks, good my Countryman,

FW

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Flu. By Jesu,. I am your Majesties Countryman, I care
not who know it: I will confess it to all the Orld, I need
not to be ashamed of your Majesty, praised, be God, fo long
as your Majesty is an honeft Man.
K. Henry. God keep me fo.

Enter William.
Our Heralds go with him,
Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our Parts. Call yonder Fellow hither.

Exe. Soldier, you must come to the King.
K. Henry. Soldier, why wear'it thou that Glove in thy Cap?

Will. And't please your Majesty, 'tis the Gage of one that
I should fight withal, if he be alive.

K. Henry, An Inglisman ?

Will. An't please your Majesty, a Rascal that swagger'd with me last Night; who if alive, and eyer dare to challenge this Glove, I have sworn to take him a box o'ch' ear; or if I can see my Glove in his Cap, which hefwore as he was a Soldier he would wear, (if alive) I will strike it out foundly.

K. Henry. What think you, Captain Fluellen, is it fit this Soldier keep his Oath ?

Flu. He is a Craven and a Villain else, and't please your Majesty, in

my

Conscience.
K. Henry. It may be, his Enemy is a Gentleman of great
Sort, quite from the answer of his Degree.

Flu. Though he be as good a Jentleman as the Devil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your Grace, that he keep his Vow and his Oath : If he be perjur'd, see you now, his Reputation is as arrant a Villain and à Jack fawce, as ever his black fhoo trod upon God's Ground, and his Earth, in my Conscience, Law.

K. Henry. Then keep thy Vow, Sirrah, when thou meet'll the Fellow.

Will. So I will my Liege, as I live.
K Henry. Who serv’lt thou under ?
Will. Under Captain Gower, my Liege.

Flu Gopper is a good Captain, and is good kąowledge
and literatured in the Wars.
K. Henry. Call him hither to me, Soldier.

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