turn into London, under the form of a foldier. Such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names, and they will learn you by rote where fervices were done; at fuch and fuch a sconce, at fuch a breach, at fuch a convoy; who came off bravely, who was fhot, who difgrac'd, what terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-turn'd oaths; and what a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid fuite of the camp, will do among foaming bottles and ale-wafh'd wits, is wonderful to be thought on! But you must learn to know 9 fuch flanders 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 fhew to the world he is; if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. Hear you, the King is coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.

9 Such flanders of the age. ] This was a character very troublefome to wife men in our authour's time. It is the practice with him, fays Afcham, to be warlike though be never looked enemy in the face, yet fome warlike fign must be used, as a flovenly bufkin, er an overfaring frownced head, as though "out of every hair's top fhould fuddenly start a good big oath.

I muft fpeak with him from the pridge.] "Speak with him "from the Bridge, Mr. Pope tells us, is added in the latter Editions; but that it is plain

I

"from the Sequel, that the "Scene here continues, and "the affair of the Bridge is "over." This is a moft inaccurate Criticifm. Tho' the Affair of the Bridge be over, is that a Reafon, that the King must receive no Intelligence from thence? Fluellen, who comes from the Bridge, wants to acquaint the King with the Tranf actions that had happened there. This he calls Speaking to the King from the Bridge. THEOBALD. With this Dr. Warburton con

curs.

SCENE

SCENE VIII.

Drum and Colours. Enter the King, and his poor foldiers.

Flu. God plefs your Majesty.

K. Henry. How now, Fluellen, cam'ft thou from the bridge?

Flu. I, fo please your Majefty: the Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintain'd the pridge; the French is gone off, look you, and there is gallant and most prave paffages; marry, th' athverfary was have poffeffion of the pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is mafter of the pridge. I can tell your Majefty, the Duke is a prave man.

K. Henry. What men have you loft, Fluellen?

Flu. I he perdition of th' athverfary hath been very great. very reafonably great; marry, for my part, I think, the uke hath loft never a man but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man; his face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips blows at his nofe, and it is like a coal of fire; fometimes plue, and fometimes red; but his nofe is executed, and his fire's out.

*

K. Henry. We would have fuch offenders fo cut off; And give exprefs charge, that in all our march There fhall be nothing taken from the villages, But fhall be paid for; and no French upbraided, Or yet abufed in difdainful language; When lenity and cruelty play for kingdoms, The gentler gamefter is the fooneft winner.

his fire's out] This is the last time that any sport can be made with the red face of Bardolph, which, to confefs the truth, feems to have taken more hold on Shakespeare's imagination than on any other. The conception

is very cold to the folitary reader, though it may be fomewhat invigorated by the exhibition on the flage. This poet is always more careful about the present than the future, about his audience than his readers, Ee 4

Tucket

Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy.

Mount. You know me by my habit.

K. Henry. Well then, I know thee; what shall I know of thee?

Mount. My mafter's mind.

K. Henry. Unfold it.

Mount. Thus fays my King. Say thou to Harry
England,

Although we feemed dead, we did but sleep;
Advantage is a better foldier than rafhnefs.
Tell him, we could at Harfleur have rebuk'd him,
But that we thought not good to bruise an injury,
'Till it were ripe. Now, fpeak we 3 on our cue,
With voice imperial. England fhall repent
His folly, fee his weakness, and admire
Our fuff'rance. Bid him therefore to confider,
What muft the ranfom be, which must proportion
The loffes we have borne, the fubjects we
Have loft, and the difgrace we have digested,
To answer which, his pettinefs would bow under.
First for our lofs, too poor is his Exchequer ;
For the effufion of our blood, his army
Too faint a number; and for our disgrace,
Ev'n his own perfon kneeling at our feet
A weak and worthlefs fatisfaction.

To this, defiance add; and for conclufion,
Tell him he hath betrayed his followers,
Whose condemnation is pronounc'd. So far
My King and mafter; and fo much my office.
K. Henry. What is thy name? I know thy quality.
Mount. Mountjoy.

By my babit.] That is, by his herald's coat. The perfon of a herald being inviolable was diftinguished in thofe times of formality by a peculiar drefs, which is likewife yet worn on

particular occafions.

3 On our cue.] In our turn. This phrafe the authour learned among players, and has imparted it to kings.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee

back,

And tell thy King, I do not feek him now;
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment; for to fay the footh,
Though 'tis no wisdom to confefs fo much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,
My people are with fickness much enfeebled,
My numbers leffen'd; and thofe few I have,
Almost no better than fo many French;

Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought, upon one pair of English legs

Did march three Frenchmen. Yet, forgive me God,
That I do brag thus; this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy mafter, here I am,
My ranfom is this frail and worthless trunk,
My army but a weak and fickly guard,

Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himself, and fuch another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Mountjoy.
Go, bid thy mafter well advise himself:

If we may pafs, we will; if we be hinder'd,
We fhall your tawny ground with your red blood
Difcolour; and fo, Mountjoy, fare you well.
The fum of all our anfwer is but this;
We would not feek a battle as we are,
Yet, as we are, we fay, we will not fhun it:
So tell your mafter.

Mount. I fhall deliver fo. Thanks to your High

nefs.

[Exit.

herdfman takes his leave in these words,

Now go thy ways, and God before.

God before.] This was an expreffion in that age for God being my guide, or, when used to another, God be thy guide. So in an old dialogue between a herdfman and a maiden going on pilgrimage to Wallingham, the fame fenfe.

To prevent was used in the

Glou.

Glou. I hope, they will not come upon us now.

K. Henry. We are in God's hand, brother, not in

theirs.

March to the bridge; it now draws towards night;
Beyond the River we'll encamp ourselves;
And on to-morrow bid them march away.

5S CE NE IX.

The French Camp near Agincourt.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Conftable of France, the Lord Rambures, Orleans, Dauphin, with others.

Con.

UT, I have the best armour of the world.
Would it were day!

TU

Orl. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.

Con. It is the beft horfe of Europe.
Orl. Will it never be morning?

Dau. My Lord of Orleans, and my Lord high Conftable, you talk of horse and armour,

Orl. You are as well provided of both, as any Prince in the world.

Dau. What a long night is this! I will not change my horfe with any that treads but on four pafterns; ça, ba! le Cheval volant, the Pegafus, chez les Narines de feu! he bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were hairs; when I beftride him, I foar, I am a Hawk; he trots the air, the earth fings when he touches it; the

if his entrails were hairs;] Alluding to the bounding of tennisballs, which were stuffed with hair, as appears from Much ado about Nothing, And the old ornament of his cheek hath already

S SCENE IX.] This fcene is fhorter, and I think better, in the first editions of 1600 and 1608. But as the enlargements appear to be the author's own, I would not omit them. РОРЕ. 6 he lounds from the earth, as flufft tennis-balls. WARBURTON,

bafeft