Act III, Scene 2 The same.

Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy

 

BARDOLPH On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
NYM Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot;
and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives:
the humour of it is too hot, that is the very
plain-song of it.
PISTOL The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound:
Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,
In bloody field,
Doth win immortal fame.
Boy Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give
all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
PISTOL And I:
If wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.
Boy As duly, but not as truly,
As bird doth sing on bough.
  [Enter FLUELLEN]
FLUELLEN Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions!
  [Driving them forward]
PISTOL Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,
Abate thy rage, great duke!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!
NYM These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours.
  [Exeunt all but Boy]
Boy As young as I am, I have observed these three
swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they
three, though they would serve me, could not be man
to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to
a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and
red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but
fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue
and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks
words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath
heard that men of few words are the best men; and
therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a'
should be thought a coward: but his few bad words
are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never
broke any man's head but his own, and that was
against a post when he was drunk. They will steal
any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a
lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for
three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn
brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a
fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the
men would carry coals. They would have me as
familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their
handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood,
if I should take from another's pocket to put into
mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I
must leave them, and seek some better service:
their villany goes against my weak stomach, and
therefore I must cast it up.
  [Exit]
  [Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following]
GOWER Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the
mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.
FLUELLEN To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good
to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is
not according to the disciplines of the war: the
concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you,
the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look
you, is digt himself four yard under the
countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up
all, if there is not better directions.
GOWER The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the
siege is given, is altogether directed by an
Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.
FLUELLEN It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?
GOWER I think it be.
FLUELLEN By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will
verify as much in his beard: be has no more
directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look
you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.
  [Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY]
GOWER Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him.
FLUELLEN Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman,
that is certain; and of great expedition and
knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular
knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will
maintain his argument as well as any military man in
the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars
of the Romans.
JAMY I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen.
FLUELLEN God-den to your worship, good Captain James.
GOWER How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the
mines? have the pioneers given o'er?
MACMORRIS By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give
over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I
swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done;
it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so
Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done,
tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!
FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you
voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you,
as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of
the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument,
look you, and friendly communication; partly to
satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction,
look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of
the military discipline; that is the point.
JAMY It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath:
and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick
occasion; that sall I, marry.
MACMORRIS It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the
day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the
king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The
town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the
breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing:
'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to
stand still; it is shame, by my hand: 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, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i'
the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay
't as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do,
that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full
fain hear some question 'tween you tway.
FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your
correction, there is not many of your nation--
MACMORRIS 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?
FLUELLEN 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.
MACMORRIS I do not know you so good a man as myself: so
Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
GOWER Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
JAMY A! that's a foul fault.
  [A parley sounded]
GOWER The town sounds a parley.
FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, when there is more better
opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so
bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war;
and there is an end.
  [Exeunt]

 

Act Scene 3 The same. Before the gates.

The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the
English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train

 

KING HENRY V How yet resolves the governor of the town?
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 flesh'd 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,
Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves 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 enraged soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts 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 villany.
If not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls,
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
GOVERNOR Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated,
Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.
KING HENRY V Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter,
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,
The winter coming on and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
  [Flourish. The King and his train enter the town]

 

To view other scenes from the show:

Full Text Act III, Scene 7 The French camp, near Agincourt:
Act I, Scene 1 London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. Act IV, Prologue
Act I, Scene 2 The same. The Presence chamber. Act IV, Scene 1 The English camp at Agincourt.
Act II, Scene 1 London. A street. Act IV, Scene 2 The French camp.
Act II, Scene 2 Southampton. A council-chamber. Act IV, Scene 3 The English camp.
Act II, Scene 3 London. Before a tavern. Act IV, Scene 4 The field of battle.
Act II, Scene 4 France. The King's palace. Act IV, Scene 5 Another part of the field./Act IV, Scene 6 Another part of the field.
Act III, Scene 1 France. Before Harfleur. Act IV, Scene 7 Another part of the field.
Act III, Scene 2 The same./ Act III, Scene 3 The same. Before the gates. Act IV, Scene 8 Before KING HENRY'S pavilion.
Act III, Scene 4 The FRENCH KING's palace. Act V, Scene 1 France. The English camp.
Act III, Scene 5 The same. Act V, Scene 2 France. A royal palace.
Act III, Scene 6 The English camp in Picardy.  

 

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