I sall quit* you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I, marry, Mac. 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 calls us to the breach; and we talk, and, by 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 sa3 me, la. Jamy. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine tak themselves to slumber, aile do gude service, or aile ligge i' the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and aile pay it as valorously as I may, that sall I surely do, that is the breff and the long: Marry, I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you tway. Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation Mac. 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? Flu. 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 goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities. Mac. I do not know you so good a man as myself: so Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. Gow. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. Gow. The town sounds a parley. [A parley sounded. Flu. 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. SCENE III.-The same. Before the gates of Harfleur. The GOVERNOR and some Citizens on the Walls; the English Forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his Train. K. Hen. 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, * Requite, answer. In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell; mowing like grass Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,- What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, What rein can hold licentious wickedness, As send precepts to the Leviathan To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, If not, why, in a moment, look to see And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls; Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end: K. Hen. Open your gates.-Come, uncle Exeter, Soiled. [Flourish. The King, &c. enter the Town. † Prepared. SCENE IV-Roüen. A Room in the Palace. Enter KATHARINE and ALICE. Kath. Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le language. Alice. Un peu, madame. Kath. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne à parler. Comment appellez vous la main, en Anglois? Alice. La main? elle est appellée, de hand. Kath. De hand. Et les doigts? Alice. Les doigts? ma foy, je oublie les doigts; mais je me souviendray. Les doigts? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres; ouy, de fingres. Kath. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon escolier. J'ay gagné deux mots d'Anglois vistement. Comment appellez vous les ongles? Alice. Les ongles? les appellons, de nails. Kath. De nails. Escoutez; dites moy, si je parle bien: de hand, de fingres, de nails. Alice. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. Kath. Dites moy en Anglois, le bras. Alice. De arm, madame. Kath. Et le coude? Alice. De elbow. Kath. De elbow. Je m'en faitz la repetition de tous les mots, que vous m'avez appris dès à present. Alice. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. Kath. Excusez moy, Alice; escoutez: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de bilbow, Alice. De elbow, madame. Kath. O Seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie ; De elbow. Comment appellez vous le col? Alice. De neck, madame. Kath. De neck: Et le menton? Alice. De chin. Kath. De sin. Le col, de neck; le menton, de sin. Alice. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur: en verité, vous prononces les mots aussi droict que les natifs d'Angleterre. Kath. Je ne doute point d'apprendre par la grace de Dieu; et en peu de temps. Alice. N'avez vous pas deja oublié ce que je vous ay enseignée? Kath. Non, je reciteray à vous promptement. De hand, de fingre, de mails, Alice. De nails, madame. Kath. De nails, de arme, de ilbow. Alice. Sauf vostre honneur, de elbow. Kath. Ainsi dis je; de elbow, de neck, et de sin: Comment appelez vous le pieds et la robe? Alice. De foot, madame; et de con. Kath. De foot, et de con? O Seigneur Dieu! ces sont mots de son mauvais, corruptible, grosse, et impudique, et non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: Je ne voudrois prononcer ces mots devant les Seigneurs de France, pour tout le monde. Il faut de foot, et de con, neant-moins. Je reciterai une autre fois ma leçon ensemble: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de elbow, de neck, de sin, de foot, de con. Alice. Excellent, madame! Kath. C'est assez pour une fois; allons nous à disner. [Exeunt. SCENE V-The same. Another Room in the same. Enter the French KING, the DAUPHIN, Duke of BOURBON, the Fr. King. Tis certain, he hath pass'd the river Some. Let us not live in France; let us quit all, And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. Dau. O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, The emptying of our fathers' luxury,* Our scions, put in wild and savaget stock, Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, And overlook their grafters ? Bour. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! Mort de ma vie ! if they march along Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm In that nook-shottent isle of Albion. Con. Dieu de battailes! where have they this mettle? Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull? On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, Killing their fruit with frowns! Can sodden water, A drench for sur-rein'd§ jades, their barley-broth, And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, Let us not hang like roping icicles Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields; Dau. By faith and honour, Our madams mock at us; and plainly say, Our mettle is bred out; and they will give To new-store France with bastard warriors. Bour. They bid us to the English dancing-schools, And teach lavoltas || high, and swift corantos; Saying, our grace is only in our heels, And that we are most lofty runaways. Fr. King. Where is Montjoy, the herald? speed him hence; Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. * Lust. + Sylvan; sauvage. Projected. § Overstrained. An Italian dance. Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edged, Bring him our prisoner. Con. This becomes the great. Sorry am I, his numbers are so few, His soldiers sick, and famish'd in their march; Fr. King. Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy : To know what willing ransom he will give. Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Roüen. Fr. King. Be patient, for you shall remain with us.-- SCENE VI-The English Camp in Picardy. Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN. [Exeunt. Gow. How now, captain Fluellen ? come you from the bridge? Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent service committed at the pridge. Gow. Is the duke of Exeter safe? Flu. The duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my livings, and my uttermost powers: he is not (God be praised and plessed!) any hurt in the orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ancient there at the pridge,-I think, in my very conscience, he is as valiant as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the 'orld: but I did see him do gallant service. Gow. What do you call him? Flu. He is called-ancient Pistol. Gow. I know him not. * Pendants, small flags. |