Con. You must first go your self to hazard, e'er you have them.

Dan. 'Tis Mid-night, I'll go arm my felf.
Orl. The Dauphin longs for Morning.
Ram. He longs to eat the English.

Con. I think he will eat all he kills.

[Exit

Orl. By the white Hand of my Lady, he's a gallant Prince.

Con. Swear by her Foot, that she may tread out the Oath.

Orl. He is fimply the most active Gentleman of France.
Con. Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.
Orl. He never did harm, that I heard of.

Con. Nor will do none to morrow; he will keep that good Name ftill.

Orl. I know him to be valiant.

Con. I was told that, by one that knows him better than you.

Orl. What's he?

Con. Marry, he told me so himself, and he said he car'd not who knew it.

Orl. He needs not, it is no hidden Virtue in him.

Con. By my Faith, Sir, but it is; never any body faw it, but his Lacquey; 'tis a hooded Valour, and when it ap. pears, it will abate.

Orl. Ill-will never faid well.

Con. I will cap that Proverb with, There is Flattery in Friendship.

Orl. And I will take up that with, Give the Devil his due.

Con. Well plac'd; there ftands your Friend for the Devil; have at the very Eye of that Proverb with, A Pox of the Devil.

Orl. You are the better at Proverbs, by how much a Fool's Bolt is foon fhot.

Con. You have fhot over.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were over-fhot.

Enter a Meffenger.

Meff. My Lord high Conftable, the English lye within fifteen hundred Paces of your Tents.

Çon. Who hath measur'd the Ground?

Mell

Mell. The Lord Grandpree.

Con. A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would it were day. Alas poor Harry of England; he longs not for the Dawning, as we do.

Orl. What a wretched and peevish Fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd Followers fo far out of his knowledge.

Con. If the English had any apprehenfion, they would run

away.

Orl. That they lack; for if their Heads had any intelle&tual Armour, they could never wear any fuch heavy Headpieces.

Ram. That Inland of England breeds very valiant Creatures; their Maftiffs are of unmatchable Courage.

Orl. Foolish Curs, that run winking into the Mouth of a Ruffian Bear, and have their Heads crush'd like rotten Ap-. ples; you may as well fay, that's a valiant Flea, that dare to eat his breakfast on the Lip of a Lior.

Con. Juft, juft; and the Men do fympathize with the Maftiffs, in robuftious and rough coming on, leaving their Wits with their Wives; and then give them great Meals of Beef, and Iron and Steel; they will eat like Wolves, and fight like Devils.

Orl. Ay, but thefe English are fhrewdly out of Beef.

Con. Then fhall we find to morrow, they have only Stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm; come, fhall we about it?

Orl. It is now two a Clock; but let me fee, by ten We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.

[Exeunt.

No

A CT III. SCENE I.

Enter Chorus.

entertain Conjecture of a time,

When creeping Murmur and the poring Dark

Fills the wide Veffel of the Universe.

From Camp to Camp, through the foul Womb of Night,

The

The Hum of either Army ftilly founds,
That the fixt Centinels almost receive
The fecret Whispers of each others Watch.
Fire anfwers fire, and through their paly flames
Each Battel fees the others umber'd face.
Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastful Neighs
Piercing the Night's dull Ear; and from the Tents,
The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,
With bufie Hammers clofing Rivets up,

Give dreadful Note of Preparation.

The Country Cocks do crow, the Clocks do towl;
And the third Hour of droufie Morning nam'd,
Proud of their Numbers, and fecure in Soul,
The confident and over-lufty French,
Do the low-rated English play at Dice:
And chide the criple-tardy-gated Night,
Who like a foul and ugly Witch do's limp
So tedioufly away. The poor condemned English,
Like Sacrifices, by their watchful Fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The Mornings Danger: and their gefture fad,
Investing lank-lean Cheeks, and War-worn Coats,
Prefented them unto the gazing Moon

So many horrid Ghofts. O now who will behold
The Royal Captain of this ruin'd Band

Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent,
Let him cry, Praife and Glory on his Head:
For forth he goes, and vifits all his Hoft,
Bids them good morrow with a modeft Smile,
And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Country-men.
Upon his Royal Face there is no Note,
How dread an Army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he Dedicate one jot of Colour
Unto the weary and all-watched Night:
But freshly looks, and over-bears Attaint,
With chearful Semblance, and sweet Majefty:
That every Wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks Comfort from his Looks.
A Largefs univerfal, like the Sun,

His liberal Eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold Fear, that mean and gentle all

Behold,

Behold, as may Unworthiness define,
A little touch of Harry in the Night.
And fo our Scene muft to the Battel fly :
Where, O for pity, we fhall much disgrace,
With four or five moft vile and ragged foils
(Right ill difpos'd, in brawl ridiculous)
The Name of Agincourt. Yet fit and fee,
Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries be.

Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloucefter.

[Exit.

K. Henry. Glofter, 'tis true that we are in great danger, greater therefore fhould our Courage be.

The

Good morrow, Brother Bedford: God Almighty,
There is fome Soul of Goodness ip things Evil,
Would Men obfervingly diftil it out.

For our bad Neighbour makes us early Stirrers,
Which is both Healthful, and good Husbandry.
Befides, they are our outward Confciences,
And Preachers to us all; admonishing,
That we should drefs us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
And make a Moral of the Devil himself.

Enter Erpingham,

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good foft Pillow for that good white Head
Were better, than a churlish Turf of France.

1

Erping. Not fo my Liege, this Lodging likes me better, Since I may fay, now lye I like a King.

K. King. 'Tis good for Men to love their prefent pain, Upon Example, fo the Spirit is eased:

And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt
The Organs, though Defun& and Dead before,
Break up their drowfie Grave, and newly move
With cafted flough, and fresh celerity.
Lend me thy Cloak, Sir Thomas: Brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our Camp:
Do my good morrow to them, and anon
Defire them all to my Pavillion.

Glo. We fhall, my Liege.

Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
K. Henry. No, my good Knight:

Go with my Brothers to my Lords of England:

I and my Bofom muft debate a while,
And then I would no other Company.

Erp. The Lord in Heaven bless thee, noble Harry. [Exeunt. K. Henry. God a mercy, old Heart, thou fpeak'ft chearfully.

Pift. Qui va la?

K. Henry. A Friend.

Enter Pistol.

Pift. Difcufs unto me, art thou Officer, or art thou base, common and popular?

K. Henry. I am a Gentleman of a Company.
Pift. Trail'ft thou the puiffant Pike?

K. Henry. Even fo: What are you?

Pift. As good a Gentleman as the Emperor.
K. Henry. Then you are better than the King.

Pift. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a Lad of Life, an Imp of Fame, of Parents good, of Fift most valiant: I kifs his dirty Shooe, and from Heart-ftring I love the lovely Bully. What is thy Name?

K. Henry. Harry le Roy.

Pift. Le Roy! a Cornish Name: Art thou of Cornish Crew? K. Henry. No, I am a Welchman.

Pift. Know'st thou Fluellen?

K. Henry. Yes.

Bift. Tell him I'll knock his Leek about his Pate upon St. David's day.

K. Henry. Do not you wear your Dagger in your Cap that day, left he knock that about yours.

Pift. Art thou his Friend?

K. Henry. And his Kinsman too.
Pift. The Figo for thee then.

K. Henry. I thank you: God be with you.

Pift. My name is Piftol call'd.

K. Henry. It forts well with your fierceness.

[Exit.

[Manet King Henry.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gow. Captain Fluellen.

Flu. So, in the Name of Jefu Chrift, fpeak fewer: It is the greatest admiration in the univerfal World, when the true and auncient Prerogatifes and Laws of the Wars, is not kept: If you would take the pains but to examine the Wars

of