Henry V

King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back: Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones. Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus? The man that once did sell the Lyons skin While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him. A many of our bodyes shall no doubt Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke. And those that leaue their valiant bones in France, Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills, They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them, And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen, Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme, The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France. Marke then abounding valour in our English: That being dead, like to the bullets crasing, Breake out into a second course of mischiefe, Killing in relapse of Mortalitie. Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable, We are but Warriors for the working day: Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht With raynie Marching in the painefull field. There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast: Good argument (I hope) we will not flye: And time hath worne vs into slouenrie. But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim: And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night, They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads, And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this, As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then Will soone be leuyed. Herauld, saue thou thy labour: Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld, They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts: Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them, Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well: Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more. Enter. King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a Ransome. Enter Yorke. Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge The leading of the Vaward King. Take it, braue Yorke. Now Souldiers march away, And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day. Exeunt. Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy. Pist. Yeeld Curre French. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman? What is thy Name? discusse French. O Seigneur Dieu Pist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome French. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy Pist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for I will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of Crimson blood French. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras Pist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine Goat, offer'st me Brasse? French. O perdonne moy Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes? Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is his Name Boy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle? French. Mounsieur le Fer Boy. He sayes his Name is M. Fer Pist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him: discusse the same in French vnto him Boy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firke Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat French. Que dit il Mounsieur? Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous prest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre gorge Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt thou be by this my Sword French. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner, Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie vous donneray deux cent escus Pist. What are his words? Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentleman of a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you two hundred Crownes Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crownes will take Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il? Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucune prisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets, il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisement Fre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, et Ie me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn Cheualier Ie pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieur d' Angleterre Pist. Expound vnto me boy Boy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous and thrice-worthy signeur of England Pist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow mee Boy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine? I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boyes. Enter. Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures. Con. O Diable Orl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdie Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all, Reproach, and euerlasting shame Sits mocking in our Plumes. A short Alarum. O meschante Fortune, do not runne away Con. Why all our rankes are broke