In drops of crimson blood.

Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'échapper la force de ton bras?

Pist. Brass, cur!

Thou damned and luxurious mountain-goat,

Offer'st me brass?

Fr. Sol. O, pardonnez-moi!

Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys? — Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French

What is his name.

Boy. Ecoutez: comment êtes-vous appelé ?

Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.

Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk 5 him, and ferret him discuss the same in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

Pist. Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.

Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, monsieur?

Boy. Il me commande de vous dire que vous faites vous prêt; car ce soldat ici est disposé tout à cette heure de couper votre gorge.

Pist. Oui, couper la gorge, par ma foi,

Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;

Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sol. O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison; gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents écus.

Florio makes it the omentum, "a fat pannicle, caule, sewet, rim, or kell wherein the bowels are lapt."

5 To firk is to beat or scourge: to yerk and to jerk have the same import. To ferret is of kindred meaning, the ferret being a very fierce and spiteful animal. So in the old play of King Leir: “I'll ferret you ere night for that word."

Pist. What are his words?

Boy. He prays you to save his life: he is a gentleman of a good House; and for his ransom he will give you two hundred crowns.

Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I

The crowns will take.

Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur, que dit-il ?

Boy. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier, néanmoins, pour les écus que vous l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la liberté, le franchise

ment.

Fr. Sol. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercîmens ; et je m'estime heureux que je suis tombé entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et très-distingué seigneur d'Angleterre.

Pist. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England.

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. Follow me, cur.

[Exit.

Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. [Exit French Soldier.]—I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound. Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring Devil i' the old play, that every one

6 The Devil was a prominent personage in the old Miracle-plays and Moral-plays. He was as turbulent, boisterous, and vainglorious as Pistol. Ho, ho! and Ah, ha! were among his stereotyped exclamations or roarings. The Vice used to belabour him with various indignities, and, among them, threaten to pare his nails with the dagger of lath; the Devil choosing to keep his claws long and sharp. See Twelfth Night, page 119, note 17.

may pare his nails with a wooden dagger; and they are both hang'd; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lacqueys, with the luggage of our camp: the French might have a good prey of us, if they knew of it; for there is none to guard it but boys.

[Exit.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field of Battle. Alarums. Enter the Constable, ORLEANS, BOURBON, the Dauphin, RAMBURES, and others.

Con. O diable!

Orl. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu! Dau. Mort de ma vie!1 all is confounded, all! Reproach, reproach and everlasting shame

Sit mocking in our plumes. O méchante fortune! –

Do not run away.

Con.

[A short alarum.

Why, all our ranks are broke. Dau. O pérdurable shame!-let's stab ourselves. Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice?

Orl. Is this the King we sent to for his ransom?

Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!

Let's die in honour: once more back again.

Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now! Let us on heaps 2 go offer up our lives.

1 Ludicrous as these introductory scraps of French appear, so instantly followed by good, nervous mother-English, yet they are judicious, and produce the impression Shakespeare intended: a sudden feeling struck at once on the ears, as well as the eyes, of the audience, that "here come the French, the baffled French braggards!" And this will appear the more judicious, when we reflect on the scanty apparatus of distinguishing dresses in Shakespeare's tiring-room.-COLEeridge.

2 On heaps is in crowds. Repeatedly so. See King Richard the Third, page 91, note 4.

Orl. We are enough, yet living in the field, To smother up the English in our throngs,

If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The Devil take order now! I'll to the throng: Let life be short; else shame will be too long.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.- Another Part of the Field.

Alarums. Enter King HENRY and Forces, EXETER, and others.

King. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen : But all's not done; yet keep the French the field. Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty. King. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour

I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;

From helmet to the spur all blood he was.

Exe. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain;1 and by his bloody side,
Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
And cries aloud, Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall keep thine company to Heaven;
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;

1 That is, enriching the plain with his blood. In 1 Henry the Fourth, ii. 2, Falstaff is said to do the same thing with his sweat: "Fat Falstaff sweats to death, and lards the lean earth as he walks along."

As in this glorious and well-foughten field

We kept together in our chivalry!

Upon these words, I came and cheer'd him up:
He smiled me in the face, raught 2 me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says, Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced

Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd:
But I had not so much of man in me,

But 3 all my mother came into mine eyes,

And gave me up to tears.

King.

I blame you not ;

[Alarum.

For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

But, hark! what new alarum is this same? —

Alarums. Enter FLUELLEN and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offer'd; in your conscience, now, is it not? Gow. 'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive; and the

2 Raught is the old preterit of reach.

8 But here is equivalent to but that. A frequent usage.