The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.

Mark then abounding valour in our English,

That, being dead, like to the bullets grazing

Break out into a second course of mischief,

Killing in relapse of mortality.

Let me speak proudly. Tell the Constable

We are but warriors for the working day.

Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched

With rainy marching in the painful field.

There’s not a piece of feather in our host—

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.

And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night

They’ll be in fresher robes, as they will pluck

The gay new coats o‘er your French soldiers’ heads,

And turn them out of service. If they do this—

As if God please, they shall—my ransom then

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.

MONTJOY

I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well.

Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

KING HARRY

I fear thou wilt once more come for a ransom.

Exit Montjoy

Enter the Duke of York

YORK

My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg

The leading of the vanguard.

KING HARRY

Take it, brave York.—Now soldiers, march away,

And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day. Exeunt

4.4 Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistol, a French soldier, and the Boy

PISTOL Yield, cur.

FRENCH SOLDIER je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bon qualité.

PISTOL

Qualité? ‘Calin o custure me!’

Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name? Discuss.

FRENCH SOLDIER O Seigneur Dieu!

PISTOL ⌈aside⌉

O Seigneur Dew should be a gentleman.—

Perpend my words, O Seigneur Dew, and mark:

O Seigneur Dew, thou diest, on point of fox,

Except, O Seigneur, thou do give to me

Egregious ransom.

FRENCH SOLDIER O prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitie 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.

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 pardonne-moi!

PISTOL

Sayst 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.

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.

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 dispose tout à cette heure de couper votre gorge. 35

PISTOL

Oui, couper la gorge, par ma foi,

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. 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.

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 centre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier; neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous lui ci promettez, il est content à vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.

FRENCH SOLDIER (kneeling to Pistol) Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciements, et je m‘estime heureux que j’ai tombe entre les mains d‘un chevalier, comme je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et treis-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, 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

heart. But the saying is true: ‘The empty vessel makes

the greatest sound.’ Bardolph and Nim had ten times

more valour than this roaring devil i’th’ old play, that

everyone may pare his nails with a wooden dagger,

and they are both hanged, and so would this be, if he

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 the Constable, the Dukes of Orléans and ⌈Bourbon⌉, and Lord Rambures

CONSTABLE O diable!

ORLÉANS O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

⌈BOURBON⌉

Mort de ma vie! All is confounded, all.

Reproach and everlasting shame

Sits mocking in our plumes.

A short alarum

O mechante fortune!– (To Rambures) Do not run away.

⌈ORLÉANS⌉

We are enough yet living in the field

To smother up the English in our throngs,

If any order might be thought upon.

BOURBON

The devil take order. Once more back again!

And he that will not follow Bourbon now,