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take from another's pocket to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some better service: their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. [Exit Boy.

Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following.

Gow. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the duke of Gloster would speak with you.

Flu. To the mines! tell you the duke it is not so good to come to the mines: For, look you, the mines is not according to the disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, th' athversary (you may discuss unto the duke, look you) is digged himself four yards under the counter-mines; I think 'a will plow up all, if there is not better directions.

Gow. The duke of Gloster, to whom the order of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irishman; a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.

Flu. It is captain Macmorris, is it not?

Gow. I think it be.

Flu. He is an ass as in the 'orld: I will verify as much in his peard; he has no more directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.

Enter MACMORRIS and JAMY at a distance.

Gow. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, captain Jamy, with him.

Flu. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is certain; and of great expedition and knowledge in the ancient wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions: he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the 'orld in the discipline of the pristine wars of the Romans. Jamy. I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen.

Flu. God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy.

Gow. How now, captain Macmorris? have you quit the mines? have the pioneers given o'er?

Mac. Tish ill done: the work ish give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand I swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over; I would have blowed up the town in an hour. O, tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I peseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the

satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline? that is the point.

Jamy. It shall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath; and I sall quit you,1 with gud leve, as I may pick occasion, that sall I, marry.

Mac. It is no time to discourse, the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the breach; and we talk, and do nothing: 'tis shame for us all: 'tis shame to stand still; it is shame by my hand and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done.

Jamy. By the mess, ere these eyes of mine take themselves to slumber, aile2 do gude service; or aile ligge i' the grund3 for it; ay, or go to death; and aile pay it as valorously as I may, that sal I surely do, that is the breff and the long: Marry I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you twa.

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation

Mac. Of my nation? What ish my nation? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation, ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal.

Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you; being as goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of the wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

Mac. I do not know you so good a man as myself: I will cut off your head.

Gow. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. Jamy. Au! that's a foul fault. [A parley sounded.

Gow. The town sounds a parley.

Flu. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; and there is an end. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. Before the gates of Harfleur. The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English Forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his Train.

K. Hen. How yet resolves the governor of the town? This is the latest parle we will admit :

Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;

(1) I sall quit you, i. e. I will requite, answer you.

(2) Aile, i.e. I will.

(3) Ligge i' the grund, for lie in the ground; i. e. die and be buried.

Or, like to men proud of destruction,

Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
(A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,)
If I begin the battery once again,

I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur

Till in her ashes she lie buried.

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ;
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range

With conscience wide as hell; mowing like grass
Your fresh-fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
What is it, then, to me, if impious war,
Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?

What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil,
As send precepts to the Leviathan

To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of headly' murther, spoil, and villany.
If not, why, in a moment, look to see

The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,

And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes;

Whiles the mad mothers, with their howls confus'd,
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?

Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end:
The dauphin, whom of succours we entreated,
Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy :
Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.

K. Hen. Open your gates:-come, uncle Exeter,

(1) Headly, i. e. rash, headstrong, violent.

R

Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French :
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,—
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we address'd.

[Flourish. The KING, &c., enter the town. [SCENE IV. Omitted.]

SCENE V.-Rouen.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter the French KING, the Dauphin, Duke OF BOURBON, the
CONSTABLE of France, and others.

Fr. King. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
Con. And if he be not fought withal, my lord,

Let us not live in France; let us quit all,

And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
Dau. O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,-

Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,

Spurt up so suddenly into the clouds,

And overlook their grafters ?

Bour. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! 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-shotten1 isle of Albion.

Con. Dieu de batailles! 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, while 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.

Bour. They bid us-to the English dancing-schools,

(1) In that nook-shotten isle; i.e. in that isle thrust and shot-away into a corner, so insignificant is it.

(2) Sur-rein'd jades, i. e. horses over-ridden, which have been under the rein too long.

And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos;1
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 edg'd
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France;
You, dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
Jaques Chatillion, 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.

1 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.

SCENE VI.-The English Camp in Picardy.

Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN.

[Exeunt.

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

Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent services committed at the pridge.

(1) Lavoltas high, and swift corantos. The lavolta was a kind of dance in which the lady was lifted high up by the hand of her partner. The coranto was a swift dance.

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