KING HENRY V.

97

and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la!

Jamy. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to slomber, ai 'll do gude service, or ai 'll lig i' the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ai 'll pay 't as valorously as I may, that sall I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you tway.

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? Ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal -What ish my nation? Who talks of my

nation?

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 good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

Mac. I do not know you so good a man as myself; so Chrish save me, I will cut off head

vour

This is the latest parle we will admit :
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
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 fleshed 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 flowering infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,-

Arrayed in flames like to the prince of fiends,-
Do, with his smirched complexion, all fell feats
Enlinked to waste and desolation?

What is 't to me, when you yourself are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand

Of hot and forcing violation?

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 enragéd soldiers in their spoil
As send precépts 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 heady murder, spoil, and villainy.

If not, why, in a moment look to see

The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your de

SCENE IV.The French King's Palace.

Enter KATHARINE and ALICE.

Kath. Alice, tu as été en Angleterre, et tu parles

bien le langage.

Alice. Un peu, madame.

Kath. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'ap prenne à parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?

Alice. La main? elle est appelée de hand.

Kath. De hand. Et les doigts?

Alice. Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont appelés de fingres; oui, de fingres.

Kath. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que je suis le bon écolier; j'ai gagné deux mots d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles?

Alice. Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. Kath. De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien de hand, de fingres, et de nails.

Alice. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon
Anglois.

Kath. Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras.
Alice. De arm, madame