Mort de ma vie! if they march along

Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm

In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.

Con. Dieu de battailes! where have they this mettle?

Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden
water,

A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
Let us not hang like roping icicles

Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people

Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields;
Poor, we may call them in their native lords.
Dau. By faith and honour,

Our madams mock at us; and plainly say
Our mettle is bred out; and they will give
Their bodies to the lust of English youth,
To new-store France with bastard warriors.
Bour. They bid us—to the English dancing-
schools,

And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos;
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.

Fr. King. Where is Montjoy, the herald? speed him hence;

Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edged, More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,

Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and
knights,

For your great seats, now quit you of great shames;
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur :
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat

The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon :
Go down upon him,-you have power enough,—
And in a captive chariot into Rouen

Bring him our prisoner.

Con.

This becomes the great. Sorry am I his numbers are so few,

His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march;
For, I am sure, when he shall see our army,
He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
And, for achievement, offer us his ransom.
Fr. King. Therefore, lord constable, haste on
Montjoy ;

And let him say to England, that we send
To know what willing ransom he will give.
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
Dau. Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
Fr. King. Be patient, for you shall remain
with us.

Now, forth, lord constable, and princes all;
And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The English Camp in Picardy.

Enter GOWER and FLUELlen.

Gow. How now, captain Fluellen ? come you from the bridge?

Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent services 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 soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and my uttermost power: he is not (Got be praised and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent disciplines. There is an ancient there at the pridge,-I think, in my very conscience, he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the 'orld: but I did see him do as gallant service.

Gow. What do you call him?

Flu. He is called ancient Pistol.
Gow. I know him not.

Enter PISTOL.

Flu. Here is the man.

Pist. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: The duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

Flu. Ay, I praise Got; and I have merited some love at his hands.

Pist. Bardolph, a soldier firm and sound of
heart,

And of buxom valour, hath,-by cruel fate,
And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,

That goddess blind,

That stands upon the rolling restless stone,Flu. By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes, to signify to you that fortune is plind and she is painted also with a wheel; to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls ;-in good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of it: Fortune is an excellent moral.

Pist. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;

For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must 'a be.
A damned death!

Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free,
And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate:
But Exeter hath given the doom of death
For pax of little price.

Therefore, go speak, the duke will hear thy voice;
And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
With edge of penny cord, and vile reproach:
Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
Flu. Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand
your meaning.

Pist. Why, then rejoice therefore.

Flu. Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at: for if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire the duke to use his goot pleasure, and put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be used.

Pist. Die and be damn'd; and figo for thy friendship.

Flu. It is well.

Pist. The fig of Spain !

[Exit.

Flu. Very good.

Gow. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I remember him now; a bawd; a cutpurse.

Flu. I'll assure you, 'a uttered as prave 'ords at the pridge, as you shall see in a summer's day but it is very well; what he has spoke 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 soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names: and they will learn you by rote where services were done;-at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgraced, what terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths: and what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid suit of the camp, will do among foaming bottles and ale-washed wits, is wonderful to be thought on! But you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be marvellously mistook.

Flu. I tell you what, captain Gower,-I do perceive he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the 'orld he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. [Drum heard.] Hark you, the king is coming; and I must speak with him from the pridge.

Enter KING Henry, GlostER, and Soldiers. Flu. Got pless your majesty !

K. Hen. How now, Fluellen? camest thou from the bridge?

Flu. Ay, so please your majesty. The duke