Enter Grandpree.

Grand. Why do you ftay fo long, my Lords of

France?

Yon Island carrions, desp'rate of their bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the morning field:
Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air shakes them paffing fcornfully.
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd hoft,
And faintly through a rusty bever peeps.
The horsemen fit like fixed candlesticks,
With torch-ftaves in their hand; and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hide and hips:
The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes;
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bitt
Lies foul with chew'd grafs, ftill and motionless:
And 3 their executors, the knavish Crows,
Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.
Description cannot fuit itself in words,
To demonftrate the life of fuch a battle,
In life fo liveless as it fhews itself.

2

Con. They've faid their prayers, and they stay for death.

Dau. Shall we go fend them dinners and fresh suits, And give their fafting Horfes provender, And, after, fight with them?

Con. I ftay but for my guard: on, to the field; I will the banner from a trumpet take,

And use it for my hafte. Come, come, away!
The fun is high, and we out-wear the day. [Exeunt.

2 Gimmal is in the western flesh.
countries a ring; a gimmal bit is
therefore a bit of which the parts
were one within another.

3 Their executors, the knavish crows.] The crows who are to have the difpofal of what they fhall leave, their hides and their 4

4 I lay but for my guard] It feems, by what follows, that guard in this place means rather fomething of ornament or of diftinction than a body of attendants.

SCENE

SCENE VIII.

The English CAMP.

Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham, with all the Hoft; Salisbury and Weftmorland. HERE is the King?

Glou. W Bed. The King himself is rode to view

their battle.

Weft. Of fighting men they have full threefcore thousand.

Exe. There's five to one; befides, they all are fresh.
Sal. God's arm ftrike with us, 'tis a fearful odds!
God be wi' you, Princes all; I'll to my charge.
If we no more meet till we meet in heav'n,
Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
My dear Lord Glo'fter, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind kinfman, warriors all, adieu!

Bed. Farewel, good Salisbury, and good luck
with thee! 5

go

Exe. to Sal. Farewel, kind Lord; fight valiantly to-day:

And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,

For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.

[Exit Sal. Bed. He is as full of valour, as of kindness; Princely in both.

Enter King Henry.

Weft. O, that we now had here

But one ten thousand of thofe men in England,
That do no work to-day!

5 In the old editions:
Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury,
and good Luck go with thee,
And yet I do thee wrong to mind
thee of it,

For thou art fram'd of the firm
Truth of Valour.
Exe. Farewel, kind Lord: fight
valiantly to day.] What!

does he do Salisbury Wrong to with him good Luck? The ingenious Dr. Thirlby prefcrib'd to me the Tranfpofition of the Verses, which I have made in the Text: and the old Quarto's plainly lead to fuch a Regula tion.

THEOBALD.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. What's he, that wishes fo?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair coufin,
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country lofs; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater fhare of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wifh not one man more.
*By Jove, I am not covetous of gold,
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my coft,
It yerns me not, if men my garments wear,
Such outward things dwell not in my defires;
But if it be a fin to covet honour,

I am the most offending foul alive.

No, faith, my Lord, wifh not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose fo great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would fhare from me,
For the best hopes I have. Don't wifh one more;
Rather proclaim it (Westmorland) through my host,
That he, which hath no ftomach to this fight
Let him depart; his pass-port fhall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feaft of Crifpian :
He that out-lives this day, and comes fafe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouze him at the name of Crifpian;
He that shall live this day, and fee old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And fay, to-morrow is Saint Crifpian;
Then will he strip his fleeve, and fhew his fcars.
Old men forget; yet fhall not all forget,
But they'll remember, † with advantages,
What feats they did that day.

Then fhall our names,

ber their feats of this day, and remember to tell them with advantage. Age is commonly boatful, and inclined to magnify paft acts and past times.

g

Fa

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 fhall the good man teach his son,
And Crifpin Crifpian fhall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall 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 themfelves accurs'd, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon St. Crifpian's day.+
Enter Salisbury.

Sal. My fov'reign Lord, bestow 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. Perifh 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!

6 From this day to the ending.] It may be observed that we are apt to promife to ourfelves a more lafting memory than the changing ftate of human things admits. This prediction is not verified; the feaft of Crifpin paffes by without any mention of Agincourt. Late events obliterate the former: the civil wars have left in this nation fcarcely any tradition of more ancient hiftory.

* 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, often tatiously.

K. Henry.

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

fand men,

४

Which likes me better than to wifh us one.

-You know your places. God be with you all!

SCENE IX.

A Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy.

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

If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most 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 sweet retire

From off thefe fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies Muft lie and fefter.

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 fhould they mock poor fellows thus?
The man, that once did fell the lion's fkin

While the beast 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 those 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,

3 Thou hast unwish'd five thouSand men.] By wishing only thyfelf and me, thou haft wifhed five thousand men away. ShakeSpeare never thinks on fuch trifles as numbers. In the laft fcene

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