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K. Hen. faction?

How canst thou make me satis

Will. All offences, my Liege, come from the heart: never came any from mine, that might offend your Majesty.

K. Hen. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will. Your Majesty came not like yourself: you appear'd to me but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what your Highness suffer'd under that shape, I beseech you, take it for your own fault, and not mine for had you been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech your Highness, pardon me.

K. Hen. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,

And give it to this fellow.

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Keep it, fellow; And wear it for an hononr in thy cap, Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns: And, Captain, you must needs be friends with him.

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Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pelly: Hold, there, is twelve-pence for you, and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, aud quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you.

Will. I will none of your money.

Flu. It is with a goot will; I can tell you, it will serve you to mend your shoes: Come, wherefore should you be fo pashful? your shoes is not so goot: 'tis a goot silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

Enter an English Herald.

K. Hen. Now, herald; are the dead number'd?

Her. Here is the number of the slaughter'd French. (Delivers a paper. K. Hen. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

Exe. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King;

John Duke of Bourbon, and lord Bouciqualt: Of other lords, and barons, knights, and 'squires,

Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.' K. Hen. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French,

That in the field lie slain : of Princes, in this number,

And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
One hundred twenty-six: added to these,
Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:
So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;

The rest are

Princes, barons, lord, knights, 'squires,

And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles that lie dead,
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;
The master ot the cross-bows, lord Rambures;
Great-master of France, the brave sir Guischard

Dauphin;

John Duke of Alençon; Antony Duke of Brabant,
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;
And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty Earls,
Grandpré, and Roussi, Fauconberg, and Foix,
Beaumont, and Marle, Vaudemont, and Lestrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!--

Where is the number of our English dead?
[Herald presents another paper.
Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketley, Davy, Gam, esquire:
None else of name; and, of all other men,
But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here,
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,

Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock, and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss,
On one part and on the other?
For it is only thine!

Exe. 'Tis wonderful!

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Take it, God,

K. Hen. Come, go we in procession to the

village :

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And be it death proclaimed through our host, To boast of this, or take that praise from God, Which is his only.

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Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how many is kill'd?

K. Hen. Yes, Captain: but with this acknowledgement,

That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did us great goot.

K. Hen. Do we all holy rites;

Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum.
The dead with, charity enclos'd in clay,

We'll then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more hap

men.

[Exeunt.

A CT V.

Enter CHORUS

Cho. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,

That I may prompt them: and of such as have,
I humbly pray them to admit the excuse

Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life'
Be here presented. Now we bear the King
Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts,
Athwart the sea: behold the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and
boys,

Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep month'd sea,

Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the King,
Seems to prepare his way: so let him land;
And, solemnly, see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Blackheath:
Where that his lords desire him, to have borne
His bruised helmet, and his bended sword,
Before him, through the city: he forbids.it,
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride
Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent,

Quite from himself, to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and workinghouse of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens !
The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort,
Like to the senators of the autique Rome,
With the blebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Caesar in

As, by a lower but by loving likelihood,
Were now the general of our gracious Empress
(As in good time he may,) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit,

To welcome him? much more, and much more

cause,

Did they this Harry. Now in London place him; (As yet the lamentation of the French

Invites the King of England's stay at home:
The Emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them;) and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
Till Harry's back-return again to France;
There must we bring him; and myself have

play'd

'tis past.

The interim, by remembering you
Then brook abridgement; and your eyes advance
After your thoughts, straight back again to France,
[Exit.

SCENE I

France. An English Court of Guard.
Enter FLUELLEN and GoWER.

Gow. Nay, that's right; But why wear you your leek to-day? saint Davy's day is past.

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, as my friend, Captain Gower; The rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol,

which you and yourself, and all the 'orld, know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you,

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