The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 197
HERALD
Here is the number of the slaughtered French.
[Gives the King a paper.]
KING What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
EXETER
Charles, Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King;
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John, Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Boucicault.
Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
KING This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lie slain. Of princes in this number
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And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
One hundred twenty-six. Added to these,
Of knights, esquires and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred, of the which
Five hundred were but yesterday dubbed knights.
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So that in these ten thousand they have lost
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires
And gentlemen of blood and quality.
The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
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Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France;
The Master of the Crossbows, Lord Rambures;
Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dauphin;
John, Duke of Alençon; Anthony, Duke of Brabant,
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The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;
And Edward, Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpré and Roussi, Fauconbridge and Foix,
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrelles.
Here was a royal fellowship of death.
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Where is the number of our English dead?
[Herald gives him another paper.]
Edward the Duke of York; the Earl of Suffolk;
Sir Richard Keighley; Davy Gam, esquire;
None else of name, and of all other men
But five-and-twenty. O God, thy arm was here;
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And not to us but to thy arm alone
Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on th’other? Take it, God,
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For it is none but thine.
EXETER ’Tis wonderful.
KING Come, go we in procession to the village,
And be it death proclaimed through our host
To boast of this, or take that praise from God
Which is his only.
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FLUELLEN Is it not lawful, an’t please your majesty, to
tell how many is killed?
KING Yes, Captain, but with this acknowledgement,
That God fought for us.
FLUELLEN Yes, in my conscience, he did us great good.
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KING Do we all holy rites.
Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum,
The dead with charity enclosed in clay,
And then to Calais, and to England then,
Where ne’er from France arrived more happy men.
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Exeunt.
5.0 Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS
Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story
That I may prompt them; and of such as have,
I humbly pray them to admit th’excuse
Of time, of numbers and due course of things
Which cannot in their huge and proper life
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Be here presented. Now we bear the King
Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys,
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Whose shouts and claps outvoice the deep-mouthed sea,
Which like a mighty whiffler ’fore the King
Seems to prepare his way. So let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought that even now
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You may imagine him upon Blackheath,
Where that his lords desire him to have borne
His bruised helmet and his bended sword
Before him through the city. He forbids it,
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride,
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Giving full trophy, signal and ostent
Quite from himself to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens.
The Mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
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Like to the senators of th’antique Rome
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in;
As, by a lower but as loving likelihood,
Were now the General of our gracious Empress,
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As in good time he may, from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit
To welcome him! Much more, and much more cause,
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
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As yet the lamentation of the French
Invites the King of England’s stay at home.
The Emperor’s coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanced,
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Till Harry’s back return again to France.
There must we bring him; and myself have played
The interim, by remembering you ’tis past.
Then brook abridgement and your eyes advance
After your thoughts straight back again to France.
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Exit.
5.1 Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER.
GOWER Nay, that’s right. But why wear you your leek
today? Saint Davy’s day is past.
FLUELLEN There is occasions and causes why and
wherefore in all things. I will tell you ass my friend,
Captain Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy,
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pragging knave Pistol, which you and yourself and all
the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you
now, of no merits, he is come to me and prings me
pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my
leek. It was in a place where I could not breed no
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contention with him, but I will be so bold as to wear it
in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell
him a little piece of my desires.
Enter PISTOL.
GOWER Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-
cock.
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FLUELLEN ’Tis no matter for his swellings nor his
turkey-cocks. – God pless you, Anchient Pistol, you
scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!
PISTOL
Ha, art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca’s fatal web?
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Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
FLUELLEN I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave,
at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to
eat, look you, this leek. Because, look you, you do not
love it, nor your affections and your appetites and your
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digestions does not agree with it, I would desire you to
eat it.
PISTOL Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
FLUELLEN [Strikes him with a cudgel.] Th
ere is one goat
for you. Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?
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PISTOL Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
FLUELLEN You say very true, scald knave, when God’s
will is. I will desire you to live in the meantime and eat
your victuals. [Strikes him.] Come, there is sauce for it.
You called me yesterday mountain-squire, but I will
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make you today a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall
to; if you can mock a leek you can eat a leek.
GOWER Enough, Captain, you have astonished him.
FLUELLEN I say I will make him eat some part of my
leek, or I will peat his pate four days. – Bite, I pray
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you; it is good for your green wound and your ploody
coxcomb.
PISTOL Must I bite?
FLUELLEN Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of
question too, and ambiguities.
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PISTOL By this leek, I will most horribly revenge –
[Fluellen threatens him.] I eat and eat – I swear –
FLUELLEN Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more
sauce to your leek? There is not enough leek to swear
by.
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PISTOL Quiet thy cudgel, thou dost see I eat.
FLUELLEN Much good do you, scald knave, heartily.
Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is good for
your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see
leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at ’em, that is all.
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PISTOL Good.
FLUELLEN Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat
to heal your pate.
PISTOL Me a groat?
FLUELLEN Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it, or
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I have another leek in my pocket which you shall eat.
PISTOL I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
FLUELLEN If I owe you anything, I will pay you in
cudgels: you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing
of me but cudgels. God bye you, and keep you, and
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heal your pate. Exit.
PISTOL All hell shall stir for this.
GOWER Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave.
Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an
honourable respect and worn as a memorable trophy
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of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your
deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and
galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought
because he could not speak English in the native garb
he could not therefore handle an English cudgel. You
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find it otherwise, and henceforth let a Welsh
correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye
well. Exit.
PISTOL Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
News have I that my Nell is dead i’th’ spital
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Of malady of France,
And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I’ll turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
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To England will I steal, and there I’ll steal;
And patches will I get unto these cudgelled scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. Exit.
5.2 Enter at one door KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, WARWICK and other lords (GLOUCESTER, WESTMORLAND, CLARENCE and HUNTINGDON). At another, QUEEN ISABEL, the FRENCH KING, KATHERINE, ALICE, the DUKE OF BURGUNDY, and other French.
KING Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met.
Unto our brother France and to our sister
Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes
To our most fair and princely cousin Katherine;
And, as a branch and member of this royalty,
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By whom this great assembly is contrived,
We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy;
And, princes French and peers, health to you all.
FRENCH KING Right joyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England; fairly met.
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So are you, princes English, every one.
QUEEN ISABEL So happy be the issue, brother England,
Of this good day and of this gracious meeting,
As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
Your eyes which hitherto have borne in them
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Against the French that met them in their bent
The fatal balls of murdering basilisks.
The venom of such looks we fairly hope
Have lost their quality, and that this day
Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
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KING To cry amen to that, thus we appear.