The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 195
(Good argument, I hope, we will not fly),
And time hath worn us into slovenry.
But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim,
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And my poor soldiers tell me yet ere night
They’ll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new coats o’er the French soldiers’ heads
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
As, if God please, they shall, my ransom then
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Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints,
Which if they have as I will leave ’em them
Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.
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MONTJOY I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more. Exit.
KING
I fear thou wilt once more come again for a ransom.
Enter YORK.
YORK My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.
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KING
Take it, brave York. – Now, soldiers, march away,
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!
Exeunt.
4.4 Alarum. Excursions. Enter PISTOL, FRENCH SOLDIER and Boy.
PISTOL Yield, cur!
FRENCH SOLDIER Je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme
de bonne qualité.
PISTOL Qualité? ‘Caleno custore me’!
Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name? Discuss.
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FRENCH SOLDIER O Seigneur Dieu!
PISTOL O Signieur Dew should be a gentleman. –
Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark:
O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,
Except, O Signieur, thou do give to me
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Egregious ransom.
FRENCH SOLDIER O prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitié de moi!
PISTOL Moy shall not serve, I will have forty moys,
Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
In drops of crimson blood.
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FRENCH SOLDIER
Est-il impossible d’échapper la force de ton bras?
PISTOL Brass, cur?
Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,
Offer’st me brass?
FRENCH SOLDIER O pardonnez-moi!
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PISTOL 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 Écoutez. Comment êtes-vous appelé?
FRENCH SOLDIER Monsieur le Fer.
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BOY He says his name is Master Fer.
PISTOL Master Fer? I’ll fer him, and firk him, and ferret
him. Discuss the same in French unto him.
BOY I do not know the French for fer, and ferret and
firk.
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PISTOL Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
FRENCH SOLDIER Que dit-il, monsieur?
BOY Il me commande à vous dire que vous faites vous prêt,
car ce soldat ici est disposé tout à cette heure de couper
votre gorge.
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PISTOL Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,
Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.
FRENCH SOLDIER O je vous supplie pour l’amour de Dieu
me pardonner! Je suis le gentilhomme de bonne maison:
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gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents écus.
PISTOL 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.
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PISTOL Tell him
My fury shall abate, and I the crowns will take.
FRENCH SOLDIER Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
BOY Encore qu’il est contre son jurement de pardonner
aucun prisonnier, néanmoins, pour les écus que vous lui ici
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promettez, il est content à vous donner la liberté, le
franchisement.
FRENCH SOLDIER [to Pistol] Sur mes genoux je vous donne
mille remerciements, et je m’estime heureux que j’ai tombé
entre les mains d’un chevalier, comme je pense, le plus
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brave, vaillant et très distingué seigneur d’Angleterre.
PISTOL 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,
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valorous and thrice-worthy seigneur of England.
PISTOL As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.
Follow me.
BOY Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.
Exeunt Pistol and French Soldier.
I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a
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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’th’ old play, that
every vice may pare his nails with a wooden dagger,
and they are both hanged, and so would this be if he
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durst steal anything adventurously. I must stay with
the lackeys with the luggage of our camp; the French
might have a good prey of us if he knew of it, for there
is none to guard it but boys. Exit.
4.5 Enter Constable, ORLEANS, BOURBON, the DAUPHIN and RAMBURES.
CONSTABLE O diable!
ORLEANS O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
DAUPHIN Mort de ma vie, all is confounded, all!
Mortal reproach and everlasting shame
Sits mocking in our plumes. O méchante Fortune!
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[A short alarum.]
Do not run away.
CONSTABLE Why, all our ranks are broke.
DAUPHIN O perdurable shame! Let’s stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we played at dice for?
ORLEANS Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
BOURBON
Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
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Let us die instant. Once more back again,
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go home and with his cap in hand
Like a base pandar hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave no gentler than my dog
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His fairest daughter is contaminated.
CONSTABLE
Disorder, that hath spoiled us, friend us now!
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
ORLEANS We are enough yet living in the field
To smother up the English in our throngs
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If any order might be thought upon.
BOURBON The devil take order now! I’ll to the throng.
Let life be short, else shame will be too long. Exeunt.
4.6 Alarum. Enter the KING and his train, with prisoners.
KING Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen,
But all’s not done: yet keep the French the field.
Exeunt soldiers and prisoners.
Enter EXETER.
EXETER
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;
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From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
EXETER In which array, brave soldier,
doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,
Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
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Suffolk first died, and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face.
He cries aloud ‘Tarry, my cousin Suffolk!
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My soul shall thine keep company to heaven.
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our chivalry.’
Upon these words I came and cheered him up;
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He smiled me in the face, raught 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 kissed his lips,
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And so, espoused to death, with blood he sealed
A testament of noble-ending love.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopped,
But I had not so much of man in me,
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And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.
KING I blame you not,
For hearing this I must perforce compound
With my full eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum.]
But hark, what new alarum is this same?
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The French have reinforced their scattered men.
Then every soldier kill his prisoners!
Give the word through. Exeunt.
4.7 Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER.
FLUELLEN 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 offert, in your
conscience now, is it not?
GOWER ’Tis certain there’s not a boy left alive, and the
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cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha’ done this
slaughter. Besides, they have burned and carried away
all that was in the King’s tent, wherefore the King
most worthily hath caused every soldier to cut his
prisoner’s throat. O, ’tis a gallant king!
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FLUELLEN Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain
Gower. What call you the town’s name where
Alexander the Pig was born?
GOWER Alexander the Great.
FLUELLEN Why, I pray you, is not pig great? The pig,
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or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the
magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase
is a little variations.
GOWER I think Alexander the Great was born in
Macedon: his father was called Philip of Macedon, as
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I take it.
FLUELLEN I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is
porn. I tell you, Captain, if you look in the maps of the
world, I warrant you shall find, in the comparisons
between Macedon and Monmouth, that the
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situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in
Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at
Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is
out of my prains what is the name of the other river;
but ’tis all one, ’tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers,
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and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander’s
life well, Harry of Monmouth’s life is come after it
indifferent well, for there is figures in all things.
Alexander, God knows, and you know, in his rages,
and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his
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moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and
also being a little intoxicate in his prains, did in his ales
and his angers, look you, kill his best friend Clytus.
GOWER Our king is not like him in that: he never killed
any of his friends.
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FLUELLEN It is not well done, mark you now, to take the
tales out of my mouth ere it is made an end and
finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of
it. As Alexander killed his friend Clytus, being in his
ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth, being in
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his right wits and his good judgements, turned away
the fat knight with the great-belly doublet: he was full
of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I have
forgot his name.