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O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend
the brightest heaven of invention

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
and monarchs to behold the swelling scene

Then should the warlike Harry,
like himself, assume the port of Mars

And at his heels, leashed in like hounds,
should famine, sword and fire crouch for employment

But pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised
spirits...

...that hath dared on this unworthy scaffold
to bring forth so great an object

Can this cockpit hold
the vasty fields of France?

Or may we cram within this wooden O
the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt?

O, pardon! Since a crooked figure
may attest in little place a million

And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
on your imaginary forces work

Suppose within the girdle of these walls
are now confined two mighty monarchies...

...whose high upreared and abutting fronts
the perilous narrow ocean parts asunder

Piece out our imperfections with your
thoughts

Into a thousand parts divide one man,
and make imaginary puissance

Think when we talk of horses, that you see
them printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth

For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our
kings, carry them here and there jumping over times

Turning the accomplishment
of many years into an hourglass

For the which supply,
admit me Chorus to this history...

...who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play

My lord, I'll tell you. That same bill is
urged...

...which in the eleventh year of the last
king's reign was like, and had indeed against us passed

But that the scambling and unquiet time
did push it out of farther question

But how my lord shall we resist it now?

It must be thought on

If it pass against us,
we lose the better half of our possession

For all the temporal lands which men devout
by testament have given to the church...

...would they strip from us.
Thus runs the bill

This would drink deep

'Twould drink the cup and all

But what prevention?

The king is full of grace and fair regard

And a true lover of the holy church

The courses of his youth promised it not

The breath no sooner left his father's body...

...but that his wildness, mortified in him,
seemed to die too

Yea, at that very moment consideration like
an angel came and whipped the offending Adam out of him

Never came reformation in a flood, with such
a heady currance, scouring faults, as in this king

- We are blessed in the change
- Yet 'tis a wonder

Since his addiction was to courses vain,
his companies unlettered, rude and shallow

His hours filled up with riots, banquets,
sports, and never noted in him any study...

...any retirement, any sequestration
from open haunts and popularity

The strawberry grows underneath the nettle
and wholesome berries thrive and ripen best...

...neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality

It must be so, for miracles are ceased

But, my good lord, how now for mitigation
of this bill urged against the church?

Doth his majesty incline to it, or no?

He seems indifferent,
or rather swaying more upon our part

For I have made an offer to his majesty,
as touching France...

...to give a greater sum than ever at one time
the clergy yet did to his predecessors part withal

How did this offer seem received, my lord?

With good acceptance of his majesty,
save that there was not time enough to hear...

...of his true titles to some certain dukedoms
and generally to the crown and seat of France

What was the impediment that broke this off?

The French ambassador
upon that instant craved audience...

...and the hour, I think, is come
to give him hearing: is it four o'clock?

- It is
- Then go we in to know his embassy...

...though I could with a ready guess declare,
before the Frenchman speak a word of it

God and his angels guard your sacred throne
and make you long become it

Sure, we thank you.
My learned lord, we pray you to proceed

And justly and religiously unfold
why the law Salique that they have in France

Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim

- Then hear me, gracious -
- And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord...

...that you should fashion, wrest, or bow your
reading

For God doth know how many now in health
shall drop their blood in approbation...

...of what your reverence shall incite us to

Therefore take heed how you impawn our
person, how you awake our sleeping sword of war

We charge you, in the name of God, take heed

For never two such kingdoms did contend
without much fall of blood whose guiltless drops...

...are every one a woe, a sore complaint...

...'gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto
the swords that make such waste in brief mortality

Under this conjuration, speak, my lord

Then hear me, gracious sovereign...

...and you peers, that owe yourselves,
your lives and services to this imperial throne

There is no bar to make
against your highness' claim to France...

...but this, which they produce from Pharamond,'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant'

'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:'
which Salique land the French unjustly gloze...

...to be the realm of France, and Pharamond
the founder of this law and female bar

Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
that the land Salique is in Germany...

...between the floods of Sala and of Elbe,
where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons...

...there left behind and settled certain
French, who, holding in disdain the German women...

...for some dishonest manners of their life,
establish'd then this law; to wit, no female...

...should be inheritrix in Salique land,
which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala...

...is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen

Then doth it well appear the Salic law
was not devised for the realm of France

Nor did the French possess the Salic land
until four hundred one-and-twenty years...

...after defunction of King Pharamond,
idly supposed the founder of this law

Besides, their writers say, King Pepin,
which deposed Childeric...

...did, as heir general, being descended
of Blithild, daughter to King Clothair...

...make claim and title to the crown of France

Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown
of Charles, Duke of Lorraine...

...sole heir male of the true line and stock
of Charles the Great...

...to find his title with some shows of truth,
though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught...

...convey'd himself as heir to the Lady
Lingare, daughter to Charlemain...

...who was the son to Lewis the emperor,
and Lewis the son of Charles the Great

Also King Lewis the Tenth,
sole heir to the usurper Capet...

...could not keep quiet in his conscience,
wearing the crown of France...

...'til satisfied that fair Queen Isabel, his
grandmother, was lineal of the Lady Ermengard...

...daughter to Charles, the foresaid Duke of
Lorraine

By the which marriage the line of Charles the
Great was re-united to the crown of France

So that, as clear as is the summer's sun

King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim,
King Lewis his satisfaction...

...all appear to hold in right and title of the
female

So do the kings of France unto this day...

...howbeit they would hold up this Salic law
to bar your highness claiming from the female...

...but rather choose to hide them in a net...

...than amply to imbar their crooked titles
usurped from you and your progenitors

- May I with right and conscience make this
claim? - The sin upon my head, dread sovereign

Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag,
look back into your mighty ancestors

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's
tomb, Edward the Third

Invoke his warlike spirit,
and your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince

You are his heir, you sit upon his throne.
The blood and courage that renowned him runs in your veins

And my thrice-puissant liege
is in the very May-morn of his youth

Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises

Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth...

...do all expect that you should rouse
yourself, as did the former lions of your blood

Never king of England
had nobles richer and more loyal subjects...

...whose hearts have left their bodies here in
England and lie pavilioned in the fields of France

O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
with bloods and sword and fire to win your right

In aid whereof, we of the spirituality
will raise your highness such a mighty sum...

...as never did the clergy at one time
bring in to any of your ancestors

We must not only arm to invade the French,
but lay down our defences against the Scot

Aye there's a saying very old and true,
'If that you will France win...

'...then with Scotland first begin'

For once the eagle England being in prey to
her unguarded nest the weasel Scot comes sneaking...

...and so sucks her princely eggs,
playing the mouse in absence of the cat

While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
the advised head defends itself at home

For government, though high and low
and lower, put into parts...

...doth keep in one consent, congreeing
in a full and natural close, like music

And so work the honey-bees,
creatures that by a rule in nature...

...teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom

They have a king and officers of sorts,
where some, like magistrates, correct at home

Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad

Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
make boot upon the summer's velvet buds...

...which pillage they with merry march bring
home to the tent-royal of their emperor...

...who, busied in his majesty, surveys
the singing masons building roofs of gold

The civil citizens kneading up the honey

The poor mechanic porters crowding in
their heavy burdens at his narrow gate

The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
delivering over to executioners the lazy yawning drone

To France, my liege.
Divide your happy England into four

Whereof take you one quarter into France,
and you withal shall make all Gallia shake

If we with thrice such powers left at home
cannot defend our own doors from the dog...

...let us be worried and our nation lose
the name of hardiness and policy.

Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin

Now are we well prepared to know
the pleasure of our fair cousin Dauphin...

...for we hear your greeting is from him,
not from the king

Thus, then, in few. Your highness,
lately sending into France...

...did claim some certain dukedoms, in the
right of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third

In answer to which claim, the prince my
master says that you savour too much of your youth...

...and bids you be advised there's naught in
France that can be with a nimble galliard won

You cannot revel into dukedoms there

He therefore sends you,
meeter for your spirit, this tun of treasure...

...and in lieu of this, desires you let the
dukedoms that you claim hear no more of you

This the Dauphin speaks

What treasure, uncle?

Tennis balls, my liege

We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with
us. His present and your pains we thank you for

When we have match'd our rackets to these
balls...

...we will in France, by God's grace, play a
set shall strike his father's crown into the hazard

Tell him he hath made a match
with such a wrangler...

That all the courts of France
shall be disturbed with chases...

...and we understand him well...

...how he comes over us with our wilder days,
not measuring what use we made of them

We never valued this poor seat of England...

...and therefore, living hence,
did give ourself to barbarous licence

But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state...

...be like a king and show my sail of greatness
when I do rouse me in my throne of France

For that I have laid by my majesty
and plodded like a man for working days

But I will rise there with so full a glory
that I will dazzle all the eyes of France

Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us

And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his
hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones...

...and his soul shall stand sore charged
for the wasteful vengeance that shall fly with them

For many a thousand widows shall this
his mock mock out of their dear husbands...

...mock mothers from their sons, mock castles
down

And some are yet ungotten and unborn
that shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn

So get you hence in peace, and tell the
Dauphin...

...his jest will savour but of shallow wit,
when thousands weep more than did laugh at it

Convey him with safe conduct. Fare you well

This was a merry message

We hope to make the sender blush at it

Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
that may give furtherance to our expedition

For we have now no thought in us but France,
save those to God, that run before our business

Let every man now task his thought,
that this fair action may on foot be brought

Now all the youth of England are on fire,
and silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies

Now thrive the armourers, and honour's
thought reigns solely in the breast of every man

They sell the pasture now to buy the horse...

...following the mirror of all Christian kings,
with winged heels, as English Mercuries

For now sits expectation in the air,
and hides a sword from hilts unto the point...

...with crowns imperial, crowns and coronets,
promised to Harry and his followers

- Well met, Corporal Nym
- Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph

- What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends
yet? - For my part, I care not

I say little, but when time shall serve,
there shall be smiles. But that shall be as it may

I dare not fight,
but I will wink and hold out mine iron

It is a simple one, but what though?

It will toast cheese, and it will endure the
cold as another man's sword will, and there's an end

I will bestow you a breakfast to make you
friends, and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France

Let it be so, good Corporal Nym

Faith, I will live so long as I may,
that's the certain of it

And when I cannot live any longer, I will do
as I may. That is my rest, that is the rendezvous of it

It is certain,
that he is married to Nell Quickly...

...and certainly she did you wrong,
for you were troth-plight to her

I cannot tell.
Things must be as they may

Men may sleep, and they may have
their throats about them at that time...

...and some say knives have edges

It must be as it may.
Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod

There must be conclusions.
Well, I cannot tell

Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife.
Nym, be quiet

- How now, mine host Pistol
- Base tike, call'st thou me host?

Now, by this hand, I swear, I scorn the term,
nor shall my Nell keep lodgers

No, by my troth, not long, for we cannot
lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen...

...that live honestly by the prick of their
needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy house straight

Well-a-day, lady. If he be not drawn now,
we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed

- Good lieutenant, good corporal, offer
nothing here - Pish!

Pish for thee, Iceland dog!
Thou prick-eared cur of Iceland!

Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour,
and put up your sword

- Will you shog off? I would have you solus
- 'Solus', egregious dog?

O viper vile

The 'solus' in thy most marvellous face,
the 'solus' in thy teeth and in thy throat...

...and in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw,
perdy, and, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth

I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels, for I
can take, and Pistol's cock is up, and flashing fire will follow

I am not Barbason. You cannot conjure me.
I have an humour to knock you indifferently well

If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will
prick your guts a little, as I may, and that is the humour of it

O braggart vile and damned furious wight!

The grave doth gape, and doting death is
near. Therefore exhale

Hear me, hear me what I say. He that strikes
the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier

An oath of mickle might, and fury shall
abate. Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give

Thy spirits are most tall

I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in
fair terms. And that is the humour of it

Couple a gorge!
That is the word. I defy thee again

O hound of Crete,
think'st thou my spouse to get?

No; to the spital go,
and from the powdering tub of infamy...

...fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's
kind, Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse

I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
for the only she...

...and pauca, there's enough. Go to

Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master,
and you, hostess

Falstaff is very sick, and would to bed

Good Bardolph, put thy face between his
sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan

- Away, you rogue
- Faith, he's very ill

By my troth, the king has killed his heart.
Good husband, come home presently

Come, shall I make you two friends?
We must to France together...

...now, why the devil should we keep knives
to cut one another's throats?

You'll pay me the eight shillings
I won of you at betting?

Base is the slave that pays

That now I will have: and that is the humour
of it

As manhood shall compound: push home

By this sword, he that makes the first
thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will

Sword is an oath,
and oaths must have their course

Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be
friends

If thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with
me too. Now, I prithee put up

A noble shalt thou have, and present pay,
and liquor likewise will I give to thee...

...and friendship shall combine, and
brotherhood. I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me

Is not this just? For I shall vitler be unto
the camp, and profits will accrue. Give me thy hand

- I shall have my money?
- In cash most justly paid

Well, then, that is the humour of it

As ever you came of women,
come in quickly to Sir John

Ah, poor heart! He is so shaked of a burning
quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold

Sweet men, come to him

The king hath run bad humours on the knight;
that is the even of it

Nym, thou hast spoke the right.
His heart is fracted and corroborate

The king is a good king, but it must be as it
may, he passes some humours and careers

Let us condole the knight. For, lambkins, we
will live

The French, advised by good intelligence
of this most dreadful preparation...

...shake in their fear, and with pale policy
seek to divert the English purposes

O England! Model to thy inward greatness,
like little body with a mighty heart...

...what mightst thou do, that honour would thee
do, were all thy children kind and natural?

But see, thy fault France hath in thee found
out...

...a nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
with treacherous crowns, and three corrupted men

One, Richard Earl of Cambridge,
and the second, Henry Lord Scroop of Masham...

...and the third, Sir Thomas Grey,
knight, of Northumberland...

...have, for the gilt of France - O guilt
indeed! - confirmed conspiracy with fearful France...

...and by their hands this grace of kings must
die, if hell and treason hold their promises...

...ere he take ship for France, and in
Southampton

Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
the abuse of distance, force a play

The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
the king is set from London...

...and the scene is now transported, gentles,
to Southampton

There is the playhouse now, there must you
sit, and thence to France shall we convey you safe...

...and bring you back,
charming the narrow seas to give you gentle pass

For, if we may,
we'll not offend one stomach with our play

Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard

My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord
Scroop, and you, my gentle knight, lend me your thoughts

Think you not that the powers we bear with us
will cut their passage through the force of France?

- No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best
- We doubt not that, since we are well persuaded...

...we carry not a heart with us from hence
that grows not in a fair consent with ours

Never was monarch better feared and loved
than is your majesty

There's not a subject
lives in heart-grief and uneasiness...

...under the sweet shade of your government

True, those that were your father's enemies
have steeped their galls in honey...

...and do serve you
with hearts create of duty and of zeal

We therefore have great cause of thankfulness

So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
to do your grace incessant services

We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter...

...enlarge the man committed yesterday,
that railed against our person...

...we consider it was excess of wine
that set him on

That's mercy, but too much security

Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example
breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind

- O, let us yet be merciful
- So may your highness, and yet punish too

Sir, you show great mercy if you give him
life, after the taste of much correction

Alas, your too much love and care of me
are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch

If little faults, proceeding on distemper,
shall not be wink'd at...

...how shall we stretch our eye when capital
crimes, chewed, swallowed and digested, appear before us?

We'll yet enlarge that man,
though Cambridge, Grey and Scroop...

...in their dear care and tender preservation
of our person, would have him punished

And now to our French causes,
who are the late commissioners?

I one, my liege,
your highness bade me ask for it to-day

- So did you me, my liege
- And I, my royal sovereign

Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is
yours

There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham. And, sir
knight, Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours

Read them, and know I know your worthiness

My cousin Westmorland and uncle Exeter,
we will aboard tonight

Why, how now, gentlemen? What read you
in those papers that you lose so much complexion?

Look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper

I do confess my fault,
and do submit me to your highness' mercy

To which we all appeal

The mercy that was quick in us but late,
by your own counsel is suppressed and killed

You must not dare, for shame, to talk of
mercy

See you, my princes, and my noble peers,
these English monsters

My Lord of Cambridge here,
hath, for a few light crowns...

...lightly conspired and sworn unto the
practices of France to kill us here at Hampton...

...to the which this knight hath likewise
sworn...

...but, O, what shall I say to thee, Lord
Scroop, thou cruel, ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature?

Thou that didst bear the key of all my
counsels, that knew'st the very bottom of my soul

May it be possible that foreign hire could
out of thee extract one spark of evil that might annoy my finger?

'Tis so strange, that though the truth of it
stand off as gross as black and white...

...my eye will scarcely see it

O, how hast thou with jealousy infected
the sweetness of affiance show men dutiful?

Why, so didst thou seem they grave and
learned?

Why, so didst thou come they of noble family?

Why, so didst thou seem they religious?

Why, so didst thou

And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot...

...to mark the full-fraught man
and best indued with some suspicion

I will weep for thee, for this revolt of
thine, methinks, is like another fall of man

Their faults are open

Arrest them to the answer of the law,
and God acquit them of their practices

I arrest thee of high treason,
by the name of Henry Lord Scroop of Masham

I arrest thee of high treason,
by the name of Richard Earl of Cambridge

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland

Our purposes God justly hath discovered,
and I repent my fault more than my death...

...which I beseech your highness to forgive,
although my body pay the price of it

For me, the gold of France did not seduce...

...although I did admit it as a motive
the sooner to effect what I intended

Never did faithful subject more rejoice
at the discovery of most dangerous treason...

...than I do at this hour joy o'er myself.
My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign

God quit you in his mercy.
Hear your sentence

Touching our person seek we no revenge...

...but we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
whose ruin you have sought...

...that to her laws we do deliver you

Go get you therefore hence,
poor miserable wretches, to your death

Now, lords, for France, the enterprise
whereof shall be to you, as us, like glorious

We doubt not of a fair and lucky war...

...since God so graciously hath brought to
light this dangerous treason lurking in our way

Cheerly to sea, the signs of war advance.
No king of England, if not king of France

Prithee, honey-sweet husband,
let me bring thee to Staines

No, for my manly heart doth yearn

Bardolph, be blithe. Nym, rouse thy vaunting
veins. Boy, bristle thy courage up

For Falstaff he is dead,
and we must earn therefore

Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is,
either in heaven or in hell

Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's
bosom if ever man went to Arthur's bosom

A' made a finer end and went away
that it had been any christom child...

...a' parted even just between twelve and one...

...even at the turning o' the tide

For after I saw him fumble with the sheets
and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers' end...

...I knew there was but one way, for his nose
was as sharp as a pen and a' babbled of green fields

'How now, Sir John?' quoth I.
'What, man? Be of good cheer'

So a cried out 'God, God, God!'
three or four times

Now I, to comfort him,
bid him a' should not think of God

I hoped there was no reason
to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet

So a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet

I put my hand into the bed and felt them,
and they were as cold as any stone

Then I felt to his knees, and so upward and
upward, and all was as cold as any stone

- They say he cried out of sack.
- Ay, that a' did

And of women
- Nay, that a' did not

Yes, that he did,
and said they were devils incarnate

A' could never abide carnation;
'twas a colour he never liked

He said once the devil
would have him about women

A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women,
but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon

Do you not remember,
he saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose...

...and said it was a black soul burning in
hell?

Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that
fire. That's all the riches I got in his service

Well, shall we shog?
The king will be gone from Southampton

Come, let's away

My love, give me thy lips

Look to my chattels and my movables.
Let senses rule. The world is pitch and pay

Trust none, for oaths are straws, men's
faiths are wafer-cakes, and hold-fast is the only dog, my duck

Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.
Go, clear thy crystals

Yoke-fellows in arms,
let us to France, like horse-leeches, my boys

To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!

And that's but unwholesome food they say

Touch her soft mouth, and march

Farewell, hostess.

I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but,
adieu

Let housewifery appear:
keep close, I thee command

And sword and shield,
in bloody field, doth win immortal fame

Farewell

And sword and shield,
in bloody field, doth win immortal fame

Adieu

Thus comes the English with full power upon
us...

...and more than carefully it us concerns
to answer royally in our defences

Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Brittany,
of Brabant and of Orléans, shall make forth...

...and you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift
dispatch...

...to line and new repair our towns of war
with men of courage and with means defendant

For England his approaches makes as fierce
as waters to the sucking of a gulf

It fits us then to be as provident
as fear may teach us...

...out of late examples left
by the fatal and neglected English upon our fields

My most redoubted father,
it is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe...

...for peace itself should not so dull a
kingdom...

...and that defences should be so maintained,
as were a war in expectation

Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth
to view the sick and feeble parts of France...

...but let us do it with no show of fear

No, with no more than if we heard that
England were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance

For, my good liege, she is so idly kinged,
her sceptre so fantastically borne...

...by a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,
that fear attends her not

O, peace, Prince Dauphin,
you are too much mistaken in this king

Question your grace the late ambassadors,
with what great state he heard their embassy

How well supplied with noble counsellors,
how modest in exception, and withal...

...how terrible in constant resolution,
and you shall find his vanities forespent

Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable.
But though we think it so, it is no matter

In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
the enemy more mighty than he seems

Think we King Harry strong;
and, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him

The kindred of him hath been fleshed upon us...

...and he is bred out of that bloody strain
that haunted us in our familiar paths

Witness our too much memorable shame
when Crécy battle fatally was struck...

...and all our princes captived by the hand
of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales

This is a stem of that victorious stock

Then let us fear the mightiness of him

Ambassadors from Harry King of England
do crave admittance to your majesty

We'll give them present audience.
Go, and bring them

- You see this chase is hotly followed,
friends - Turn head, and stop pursuit, good sovereign...

...take up the English short, and let them know
of what a monarchy you are the head

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
as self-neglecting

- From our brother of England?
- From him, and thus he greets your majesty

He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
that you divest yourself, and lay apart...

...the borrowed glories that by gift of heaven...

...by law of nature and of nations,
'longs to him and to his heirs, the crown of France

That you may know this is no awkward claim...

...picked from the worm-holes of long-vanished
days, nor from the dust of old oblivion raked...

...he sends you this most memorable line...

...in every branch truly demonstrative,
willing you overlook this pedigree...

...and when you find him evenly derived from
his most famed of famous ancestors, Edward the Third...

...he bids you then resign your crown and
kingdom, indirectly held from him, the native and true challenger

- Or else what follows?
- Bloody constraint

For if you hide the crown
even in your hearts, there will he rake for it

Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
in thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove

That, if requiring fail, he will compel...

...and bids you, in the bowels of the Lord
deliver up the crown...

...and to take mercy on the poor souls
for whom this hungry war opens his vasty jaws...

...and on your head turning the widows' tears,
the orphans' cries, the dead men's blood...

...the pining maidens' groans
for husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers...

...that shall be swallow'd in this controversy

This is his claim,
his threatening and my message...

...unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
to whom expressly I bring greeting too

For us, we will consider of this further

For the Dauphin, I stand here for him.
What to him from England?

Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt...

...and anything that may not misbecome
the mighty sender, doth he prize you at

Thus says my king; an' if your father's
highness do not, in grant of all demands at large...

...sweeten the bitter mock you sent his
majesty, he'll call you to so hot an answer of it...

...that caves and womby vaultages of France
shall chide your trespass...

...and return your mock
in second accent of his ordnance

Say, if my father render fair return, it is
against my will, for I desire nothing but odds with England

To that end, as matching to his youth and
vanity, I did present him with the Paris balls

He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it.
And be assured...

...you'll find a difference,
between the promise of his greener days...

...and these he masters now

Now he weighs time even to the utmost grain...

...that you shall read in your own losses,
if he stay in France

Tomorrow shall you know our mind at full

Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our
king come here himself to question our delay

For he is footed in this land already

You shall be soon dispatched with fair
conditions

A night is but small breath and little pause
to answer matters of this consequence

Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
in motion of no less celerity than that of thought

Suppose that you have seen
the well-appointed king at Hampton pier...

...embark his royalty and his brave fleet
with silken streamers, the young Phoebus fanning

Play with your fancies, and in them behold
upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing

Hear the shrill whistle
which doth order give to sounds confused

Behold the threaden sails,
borne with the invisible and creeping wind...

...draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed
sea, breasting the lofty surge

O, do but think you stand upon the rivage
and behold a city on the inconstant billows dancing

For so appears this fleet majestical,
holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow

Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy,
and leave your England as dead midnight still...

...guarded with grandsires, babies and old
women, either past or not arrived to pith and puissance

For who is he, whose chin is but enriched
with one appearing hair...

...that will not follow these culled
and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?

Work, work your thoughts,
and therein see a siege

Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
with fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur

Suppose the ambassador
from the French comes back...

...tells Harry that the king doth offer him
Katherine his daughter...

...and with her, to dowry,
some petty and unprofitable dukedoms

The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner
with linstock now the devilish cannon touches...

...and down goes all before them. Still be
kind, and eke out our performance with your mind

Once more unto the breach,
dear friends, once more

Or close the wall up with our English dead

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
as modest stillness and humility...

...but when the blast of war blows in our ears,
then imitate the action of the tiger

Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood,
disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect

Let it pry through the portage of the head
like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril
wide

Hold hard the breath
and bend up every spirit to his full height

On, on, you noblest English,
whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof

Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
have in these parts from morn 'til even fought...

...and sheathed their swords for lack of
argument

Dishonour not your mothers. Now attest
that those whom you called fathers did beget you

Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
and teach them how to war...

...and you, good yeomen, whose limbs were made
in England, show us here the mettle of your pasture...

...let us swear that you are worth your
breeding which I doubt not

For there is none of you so mean and base,
that hath not noble lustre in your eyes

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
straining upon the start

The game's afoot. Follow your spirit,
and upon this charge...

...cry 'God for Harry, England,
and Saint George!'

On, on, on, on, on!
To the breach, to the breach!

Pray thee, corporal, stay.
The knocks are too hot

Knocks go and come;
God's vassals drop and die

And sword and shield, in bloody field,
doth win immortal fame

Would I were in an alehouse in London...

- ...I would give all my fame
for a pot of ale and safety - And I

If wishes would prevail with me...

...my purpose should not fail with me,
but thither would I hie

As duly, but not as truly,
as bird doth sing on bough

Up to the breach, you dogs!
Avaunt, you cullions!

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

These be good humours.
Your honour wins bad humours

Use lenity, sweet chuck

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 he faces it out, but fights not

For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue
and a quiet sword...

...by the means whereof he breaks words,
but 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 he should be thought a coward...

...but his few bad words
are matched with as few good deeds...

...for he never broke any man's head but his
own, and that was against a post when he was drunk

They will steal anything, 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

A fire shovel

They would have me as familiar with men's
pockets as their gloves or their handkerchiefs...

...which makes much against my manhood,
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

Captain Fluellen, you must
come presently to the mines...

...the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you

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 adversary,
you may discuss unto the duke, look you...

...is digged himself four yard
under the countermines

By Jesu, I think he will blow up all,
if there is not better directions

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

- It is Captain MacMorris, is it not?
- I think it be

By Jesu, he is an ass, as in the world.
I will verify as much in his beard

He has no more directions
in the true disciplines of the war...

...of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy
dog

Here he comes, and the Scots captain,
Captain Jamy, with him

Oh, Captain Jamy is a marvellous
valorous gentleman, that is certain...

...and of great expedition and knowledge
in the ancient wars...

...upon my particular knowledge of his
directions

By Jesu, he will maintain his argument...

...as well as any military man in the world,
in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans

- I say good day, Captain Fluellen
- God den to your worship, good Captain James

How now, Captain MacMorris? Have you quit
the mines? Have the pioneers given o'er?

By Christ, la, 'tis ill done.
The work is give over, the trumpet sound the retreat

By my hand, I swear, and my father's soul,
the work is ill done, 'tis give over

I would have blowed up the town,
so Christ save me, la, in an hour

O, 'tis ill done, 'tis ill done.
By my hand, 'tis ill done

Captain MacMorris, I beseech you now, will
you vouchsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you...

...as partly touching or concerning
the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars...

...by 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 directions
of the military disciplines, now that is the point

It shall be very good, good faith,
good captains both

And I shall quit you with good leave,
as I may pick occasion. That shall I, marry

It is no time to discourse, so Christ 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 beseiged, and the trumpet call us
to the breach, and we talk, and by Christ, do nothing

'Tis shame for us all. So God save me,
'tis shame to stand still, 'tis shame, by my hand

And there is throats to be cut, and works to
be done, and there is nothing done, so Christ save me, la

By the mass, ere these eyes of mine
take themselves to slumber...

...I'll do good service, or I'll lie in the
ground for it

Ay, or go to death

And I'll pay't as valorously as I may,
that shall I surely do, that is the brief and the long

Marry, I would full fain heard
some question 'tween you tway

Captain MacMorris, I think, look you, under
your correction, there is not many of your nation

Of my nation? What is my nation?
Is a villain and a bastard and a knave and a rascal

What is my nation? Who talks of my nation?

Look you, if you take the matter
than is otherwise meant, Captain MacMorris...

...peradventure I shall think you do not use me
with that same 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

I do not know you so good a man as myself.
So Christ save me, I will cut off your head

Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other

Ah, that's a foul fault

The town sounds a parley

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

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,
if I begin the battery once again...

...I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
'til in her ashes she lie buried

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up...

...and the fleshed 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,
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 villainy

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 dashed 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 destroyed?

Our expectation hath this day an end

The Dauphin, whom of succours
we entreated, returns us...

...that his powers are yet not ready
to raise so great a siege

Therefore, dread 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

Open your gates.
Go, 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

Tonight in Harfleur will we be your guest.
Tomorrow for the march are we addressed

- Alice...
- Oui

...tu as été en Angleterre,
et tu bien parles le langage

- Un peu, madame
- Je te prie, m'enseignez

Il faut que j'apprenne à parler

- Comment appelez-vous la main en anglais?
- La main? Elle est appelée de hand

De hand. Et les doigts?

Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts,
mais je me souviendrai

Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appelés de
fingres. Oui, de fingres

La main, de hand, les doigts, de fingres

Je pense que je suis le bon écolier.
J'ai gagné deux mots d'anglais vitement

- Comment appelez-vous les ongles?
- Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails

De nails. Écoutez, dites-moi, si je parle
bien. De hand, de fingres, et de nails

C'est bien dit, madame. Il est fort bon
anglais

- Dites-moi l'anglais pour le bras
- De arm, madame

- Et le coude?
- D'elbow

D'elbow. Je m'en fais la répétition de tous
les mots que vous m'avez appris des à présent

- Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je
pense - Excusez-moi, Alice, écoutez

De hand, de fingres, de nails, de arma, de
bilbow

- D'elbow, madame
- O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow

- Comment appelez-vous le col?
- De neck, madame

- De nick. Et le menton?
- De chin

De sin.
Le col, de nick, le menton, de sin

Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en vérité, vous
prononcez les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre

Je ne doute point d'apprendre,
par la grâce de Dieu, et en peu de temps

N'avez vous pas déjà oublié
ce que je vous ai enseigné?

Non, je réciterai à vous promptement

De hand, de fingres, de mails...

- De nails, madame
- De nails, de arm, de ilbow

- Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.
- Ainsi dis-je, d'elbow, de nick, et de sin

- Comment appelez-vous le pied et la robe?
- Le footre, madame, et le coun

Le footre et le coun

O Seigneur Dieu!

Ce sont les mots de son mauvais, corruptible,
gros, et impudique, et non pour les dames d'honneur d'user

Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots
devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde

Foh! Le footre et le coun! Néanmoins,
je réciterai une autre fois ma leçon ensemble

De hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de
bilbow...

D'ildo... d'elbow!

De nick, de sin, de foot, de coun

Excellent, madame

C'est assez pour une fois. Allons-nous à
dîner

'Tis certain he hath passed the river Somme

And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
let us not live in France

Let us quit all
and give our vineyards to a barbarous people

Normans, but bastard Normans,
Norman bastards

O Dieu vivant! Shall it be that a few sprays
of us, the emptying of our fathers' luxury, our scions...

...put in wild and savage stock, spirt up so
suddenly into the clouds, and overlook their grafters?

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-shotten isle of Albion

Dieu de batailles! 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
decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?

And shall our quick blood,
spirited with wine, seem frosty?

O, for the honour of our land, 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

By faith and honour, our madams mock at us,
and plainly say our mettle is bred out...

...and they will give their bodies
to the lust of English youth...

...to new-store France with bastard warriors

They bid us to the English dancing-schools...

...saying our grace is only in our heels
and that we are most lofty runaways

Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence.
Let him greet England with our sharp defiance

Up, princes, and with spirit of honour edged
more sharper than your swords, hie to the field

Charles Delabret, High Constable of France,
you Dukes of Orléans, Bourbon, and of Berri

Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy,
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont

Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconbridge,
Foix, Lestrale, Boucicault, and Charolais

High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and
knights, for your great seats now quit you of great shames

Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our
land with pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur

Rush on his host,
as doth the melted snow upon the valley...

...whose low vassal seat the Alps
doth spit and void his rheum upon

Go down upon him, you have power enough,
and in a captive chariot into Rouen...

- ...bring him our prisoner
- This becomes the great

Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
his soldiers sick and famished in their march

For I am sure, when he shall see our army,
he'll drop his heart into the sink of fear...

...and for achievement offer us his ransom

Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy,
and let him say to England...

...that we send to know
what willing ransom he will give

Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in
Rouen

- Not so, I do beseech your majesty
- Be patient, for you shall remain with us

Now forth, lord constable and princes all,
and quickly bring us word of England's fall

How now, Captain Fluellen!
Come you from the bridge?

I assure you, there is very excellent
services committed at the bridge

Is the Duke of Exeter safe?

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 living and my uttermost powers

He is not, God be praised and blessed
any hurt in the world...

...but keeps the bridge most valiantly,
with excellent discipline

There is an Aunchient lieutenant there at the
bridge, I think in my very conscience he is as valiant a man...

...as Mark Anthony, and he is a man of no
estimation in the world, but I did see him do as gallant service

- What do you call him?
- He is called Aunchient Pistol

- I know him not
- Here comes the man

Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours.
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well

Ay, I praise God,
and I have merited some love at his hands

Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
and of buxom valour...

...hath, by cruel fate,
and giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel...

...that goddess blind,
that stands upon the rolling restless stone...

By your patience, Aunchient Pistol...

...Fortune is painted blind, with a muffler
afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind...

...and she is painted also with a wheel,
to signify to you...

...that she is turning, and inconstant,
and mutability in variations...

...and her foot, look you, is fixed upon
a spherical stone, which rolls and rolls and rolls

In good truth, the poet makes a most
excellent description of it. For Fortune is an excellent moral

Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him

For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a'
be

A damned death!

Let gallows gape for dog, let man go free
and let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate...

...but Exeter hath given the doom of death
for pax of little price

Therefore, go speak, the duke will hear thy
voice...

...and let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
with edge of penny cord and vile reproach

Speak, captain, for his life,
and I will thee requite

Aunchient Pistol, I do partly
understand your meaning

- Why then, rejoice therefore
- Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at...

...for if, look you, he were my brother...

...I would desire the duke to use
his good pleasures and put him to execution...

...for discipline ought to be used

- Die and be damned! And figo for thy
friendship - It is well

- The fig of Spain
- Very good

Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal.
I remember him now, a bawd, a cutpurse

I'll assure you, he uttered as brave passages
at the bridge as you shall see in a summer's day

But that is well. What he has spoke to me,
that is very well, I warrant you, aye, when time is serve

Why, 'tis a rogue,
that goes sometimes to the war...

...to grace himself at his return into London
under the form of a soldier

Such fellows are perfect
in the great commanders' names...

...and they will learn you by rote
where services were done...

...who came off bravely,
who was shot, who disgraced...

...and this they will con perfectly in the
phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths...

...and what this will do among foaming bottles
and ale-washed wits is wonderful to be thought on

I tell you what, Captain Gower...

...I do perceive he is not the man
that he would gladly make show to the world he is

But hark you, the king is coming
and I must speak with him of the bridge

- God pless your majesty!
- How now, Fluellen! Camest thou from the bridge?

Ay, so please your majesty

The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly
maintained the bridge. The French is gone off, look you...

...and there is gallant and most brave
passages. Oh, I can tell your majesty, the duke is a brave man

What men have you lost, Fluellen?

The perdition of th' athversary hath been
very great, reasonable great

Marry, for my part,
I think the duke hath lost never a man...

...but one that is like
to be executed for robbing a church...

...one Bardolph, if your majesty know the man

His face is all bubukles and whelks
and knobs and flames o'fire

And his lips blows at his nose and it is like
a coal of fire, sometimes blue and sometimes red...

...but his nose is executed and his fire's out

We would have all such offenders so cut off...

...and we give express charge,
that in our marches through the country...

...there be nothing compelled from the
villages, nothing taken but paid for...

...none of the French upbraided or abused
in disdainful language

For when lenity and cruelty play for a
kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner

- You know me by my habit
- Well then, I know thee

- What shall I know of thee?
- My master's mind

- Unfold it
- Thus says my king

Say thou to Harry of England:
though we seemed dead, we did but sleep

Advantage is a better soldier than rashness

Tell him we could have rebuked him at
Harfleur...

...but that we thought not good
to bruise an injury 'til it were full ripe

Now we speak upon our cue,
and our voice is imperial

England shall repent his folly,
see his weakness, and admire our sufferance

Bid him therefore consider of his ransom,
which must proportion the losses we have borne...

...the subjects we have lost,
the disgrace we have digested

For our losses, his exchequer is too poor

For the effusion of our blood,
the muster of his kingdom too faint a number...

...and for our disgrace, his own person,
kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction

To this add defiance, and for conclusion...

...he hath betrayed his followers,
whose condemnation is pronounced

So far my king and master, so much my office

- What is thy name? I know thy quality
- Montjoy

Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
and tell the king I do not seek him now...

...but could be willing to march on to Calais
without impeachment...

...for, to say the sooth,
my people are with sickness much enfeebled...

...my numbers lessened, and those few I have,
almost no better than so many French...

...who when they were in health, I tell thee,
herald...

...methought upon one pair of English legs
did march three Frenchmen

Yet, forgive me, God, that I do brag thus.
This your air of France hath blown that vice in me

I must repent.
Go therefore, tell thy master here I am

My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk,
my army but a weak and sickly guard...

...yet, God before, tell him we will come on

If we may pass, we will, if we be hindered,
we will the tawny ground with your red blood discolour...

...and so, Montjoy, fare you well

The sum of all our answer is but this...

...we would not seek a battle as we are,
nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it

- So tell your master
- I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness

I hope they will not come upon us now

We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs

Now entertain conjecture of a time...

...when creeping murmur and the poring dark
fills the wide vessel of the universe

From camp to camp through the foul womb of
night the hum of either army stilly sounds...

...that the fixed sentinels almost receive
the secret whispers of each other's watch

Fire answers fire, and through their paly
flames each battle sees the other's umbered face

Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful
neighs piercing the night's dull ear...

...and from the tents
the armourers, accomplishing the knights...

...with busy hammers closing rivets up,
give dreadful note of preparation

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do
toll, and the third hour of drowsy morning name

Proud of their numbers and secure in soul...

...the confident and over-lusty French
do the low-rated English play at dice...

...and chide the cripple tardy-gaited night...

...who, like a foul and ugly witch,
doth limp so tediously away

Tut, I have the best armour of the world.
Would it were day!

You have an excellent armour,
but let my horse have his due

- It is the best horse of Europe.
- Will it never be morning?

My lord of Orléans, and my lord high
constable, you talk of horse and armour?

You are as well provided of both
as any prince in the world

What a long night is this. I will not change
my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns

Ha! He bounds from the earth,
as if his entrails were hairs

Le cheval volant, the Pegasus,
chez les narines de feu!

When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk.
He trots the air, the earth sings when he touches it

- He's of the colour of the nutmeg
- And of the heat of the ginger

It is a beast for Perseus, he is pure air and
fire

He is indeed a horse,
and all other jades you may call beasts

Indeed, my lord,
it is a most absolute and excellent horse

It is the prince of palfreys. His neigh is
like the bidding of a monarch and his countenance enforces homage

- No more, cousin
- Nay, the man hath no wit...

...that cannot, from the rising of the lark to
the lodging of the lamb, vary deserved praise on my palfrey

I once writ a sonnet in his praise...

...and began thus: 'Wonder of nature...'

I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's
mistress

Then did they imitate that which I composed
to my courser, for my horse is my mistress

- Your mistress bears well
- Me well

Which is the prescript praise
and perfection of a good and particular mistress

Nay, for methought yesterday
your mistress shrewdly shook your back

- So perhaps did yours
- Mine was not bridled

O, then belike she was old and gentle,
and you rode her like a kern of Ireland...

...your French hose off,
and in your straight strossers

You have good judgement in horsemanship

Be warned by me, then.
Those that ride so fall into foul bogs

- I had rather my horse to my mistress
- I had as lief have my mistress a jade

Well, I tell thee, constable,
my mistress wears his own hair

I could make as true a boast as that,
if I had a sow to my mistress

Le chien est retourné à son propre
vomissement, thou makest use of anything

Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress

My lord high constable, this your armour
here...

- ...are these stars or suns upon it?
- Stars, my lord

- Some of them will fall tomorrow, I hope
- And yet my sky shall not want

Will it never be day?

I will trot tomorrow a mile,
and my way shall be paved with English faces

I would it were morning,
for I would fain be about the ears of the English

'Tis midnight, I'll go arm myself

- The Dauphin longs for morning
- He longs to eat the English

- I think he will eat all he kills
- He is simply the most active gentleman of France

- Doing is activity, and he will still be
doing - He never did harm, that I heard of

Nor will do none tomorrow.
He will keep that good name still

I know him to be valiant

I was told that by one
that knows him better than you

- What's he?
- Marry, he told me so himself

My lord high constable, the English lie
within fifteen hundred paces of your tents

- Who hath measured the ground?
- The Lord Grandpré

A most valiant and expert gentleman.
Would it were day!

Alas, poor Harry of England.
He longs not for the dawning as we do

What a wretched and peevish fellow
is this king of England...

...to mope with his fat-brained followers
so far out of his knowledge!

That island of England breeds very valiant
creatures. Their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage

Foolish curs, that run winking
into the mouth of a Russian bear...

...and have their heads crushed like rotten
apples

You may as well say, that's a valiant flea
that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion

Just, just. And the men do sympathize with
the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on

Give them great meals of beef and iron and
steel. They will eat like wolves and fight like devils

Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of
beef

Then shall we find tomorrow
they have only stomachs to eat and none to fight

Now is it time to arm: come, shall we about
it?

It is now two o'clock, but let me see, by ten
we shall have each a hundred Englishmen

The poor condemned English, like sacrifices,
by their watchful fires sit patiently...

...and inly ruminate the morning's danger.
And their gesture sad investing lank-lean cheeks...

...and war-worn coats presented them
unto the gazing moon so many horrid ghosts

O, now, who will behold the royal captain of
this ruined band walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent...

...let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
For forth he goes and visits all his host...

...bids them good morrow with a modest smile
and calls them brothers, friends and countrymen

Upon his royal face there is no note
how dread an army hath enrounded him...

...nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
unto the weary and all-watched night...

...but freshly looks and over-bears attaint
with cheerful semblance and sweet majesty...

...that every wretch, pining and pale before,
beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks

A largess universal like the sun
his liberal eye doth give to every one...

...thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all,
behold, as may unworthiness define...

...a little touch of Harry in the night

Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great
danger, the greater therefore should our courage be

Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!

There is some soul of goodness in things
evil, would men observingly distil it out...

...for our bad neighbour makes us early
stirrers, which is both healthful and good husbandry

Besides, they are our outward consciences
and preachers to us all...

...admonishing that we should dress us
fairly for our end

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham

A good soft pillow for that good white head
were better than a churlish turf of France

Not so, my liege. This lodging likes me
better, since I may say 'Now lie I like a king'

Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
commend me to the princes in our camp...

...do my good morrow to them,
and anon desire them all to my pavilion

- We shall, my liege.
- Shall I attend your grace?

No, my good knight;
go with my brothers to my lords of England

I and my bosom must debate awhile
and then I would no other company

The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry

God-a-mercy, old heart. Thou speak'st
cheerfully

- Che vous là?
- A friend

Discuss unto me: art thou officer?

- Or art thou base, common and popular?
- I am a gentleman of a company

- Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
- Even so. What are you?

- As good a gentleman as the emperor
- Then you are a better than the king

The king's a bawcock,
and a heart of gold, a lad of life...

...an imp of fame, of parents good,
of fist most valiant

I kiss his dirty shoe and from heartstring
I love the lovely bully

- What is thy name?
- Harry le Roy

- Le Roy? A Cornish name. Art thou of Cornish
crew? - No, I am a Welshman

- Know'st thou Fluellen?
- Yes

Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate
upon Saint Davy's day

Do not you wear your dagger about your cap
that day, lest he knock that about yours

- Art thou his friend?
- And his kinsman too

- The figo for thee, then!
- I thank you: God be with you!

My name is Pistol called

It sorts well with your fierceness

- Captain Fluellen!
- So, in the name of Jesu Christ, speak fewer

It is the greatest admiration in the
universal world...

...when the true and aunchient
prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept

If you would take the pains but to examine
the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you...

...that there is no tiddle taddle
nor bibble babble in Pompey's camp

Why, the enemy is loud; you hear him all
night

If the enemy is an ass
and a fool and a prating coxcomb...

...is it meet, think you,
that we should also, look you...

...be an ass and a fool and a prating coxcomb,
in your own conscience, now?

- I will speak fewer
- I pray you and beseech you that you will

Though it appear a little out of fashion,
there is much care and valour in this Welshman

Brother John Bates,
is not that the morning which breaks yonder?

I think it be. But we have no great cause
to desire the approach of day

We see yonder the beginning of the day,
but I think we shall never see the end of it

- Who goes there?
- A friend

- Under what captain serve you?
- Under Sir Thomas Erpingham

A good old commander and a most kind
gentleman. I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?

Even as men wrecked upon a sand,
that look to be washed off the next tide

- He hath not told his thought to the king?
- No, nor it is meet he should

For, though I speak it to you,
I think the king is but a man as I am

The violet smells to him as it doth to me...

...his ceremonies laid by,
in his nakedness he appears but a man

...and though his affections
are higher mounted than ours...

...yet, when they stoop,
they stoop with the like wing

Therefore, when he sees
reasons of fears, as we do...

...his fears, out of doubt,
be of the same relish as ours are...

...yet, in reason, no man should possess him
with any appearance of fear...

...lest he, by showing it,
should dishearten his army

He may show what outward courage he will...

...but I believe, on a cold a night as this,
he could wish himself in Thames up to the neck...

...and so I would he were, and I by him,
at all adventures, so we were quit here

By my troth, I will speak my conscience of
the king

I think he would not wish himself
anywhere but where he is

Then I would he were here alone...

...so we should be sure to be ransomed,
and a many poor men's lives saved

I dare say you love him not so ill
as to wish him here alone

Methinks I could not die anywhere so
contented as in the king's company

- His cause being just and his quarrel
honourable - That's more than we know

Ay, or more than we should seek after. For we
know enough, if we know we are the king's subjects

If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the
king wipes the crime of it out of us

But if the cause be not good,
the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make

When all those legs and arms and heads,
chopped off in battle, shall join together at the latter day...

...and cry all 'We died at such a place'

Some screaming, some crying for a surgeon,
some upon their wives left poor behind them

Some upon the debts they owe,
some upon their children rawly left

I am afeard there are few die well that die
in a battle...

...for how can they charitably dispose of
anything, when blood is their argument?

Now, if these men do not die well,
it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it

But this is not so. The king is not bound to
answer the particular endings of his soldiers...

...for he purposes not their death
when he purposes their services

Besides, there is no king,
be his cause never so spotless...

...can try it out with all unspotted soldiers

Some peradventure have on them
the guilt of premeditated and contrived murder

Some, of beguiling virgins
with the broken seals of perjury

Now, if these men have defeated the law
and outrun native punishment...

...though they can outstrip men,
they have no wings to fly from God...

...war is his beadle, war is his vengeance

Then if these men die unprovided,
no more is the king guilty of their damnation...

...than he was before guilty of those impieties
for the which they are now visited

Every subject's duty is the king's;
but every subject's soul is his own

'Tis certain, every man that dies ill,
the ill upon his own head, the king is not to answer it

But I do not desire he should answer for me,
and yet I determine to fight lustily for him

I myself heard the king say he would not be
ransomed

Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully

But when our throats are cut, he may be
ransomed, and we ne'er the wiser

- If I live to see it, I will never trust his
word after - You pay him then

That's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun...

...that a private and a poor displeasure
can do against a monarch

You may as well go about to turn the sun to
ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's feather

You'll never trust his word after!
Come, 'tis a foolish saying

Your reproof is something too round.
I should be angry with you, if the time were convenient

- Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live
- I embrace it

- How shall I know thee again?
- Give me any gage of thine...

...and I will wear it in my bonnet if ever thou
darest challenge it, I will make it my quarrel

- Here's my glove. Give me another of thine
- There

This will I also wear in my cap.
If ever thou comes to me and say, after tomorrow...

...and say 'This is my glove',
by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear

- If ever I live to see it, I will challenge
it - Thou darest as well be hanged

Well, I will do it, though I take thee
in the king's company

Keep thy word. Fare thee well

Be friends, you English fools, be friends. We
have French quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon

Upon the king

Let us our lives, our debts, our souls, our
careful wives, our children and our sins lay on the king

We must bear all.
O, hard condition, twin-born with greatness...

...subject to the breath of every fool,
whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing

What infinite heart's-ease
must kings neglect, that private men enjoy?

And what have kings, that privates have not
too, save ceremony, save general ceremony?

And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?

What kind of god art thou, that sufferest
more of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?

O ceremony, show me but thy worth

Art thou aught else but place, degree and
form, creating awe and fear in other men?

Wherein thou art less happy being feared
than they in fearing

O, thou proud dream,
that playest so subtly with a king's repose

I am a king that find thee, and I know
'tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball...

...the sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
the intertissued robe of gold and pearl...

...the farced title running 'fore the king,
the throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp...

...that beats upon the high shore of this world

No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
Not all these, laid in bed majestical...

...can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave

Who with a body filled and vacant mind...
gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread

...never sees horrid night, the child of hell,
but like a lackey...

...from the rise to set, sweats in the eye of
Phoebus and all night sleeps in Elysium

Next day after dawn,
doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse...

...and follows so the ever-running year,
with profitable labour, to his grave...

...and but for ceremony, such a wretch,
winding up days with toil and nights with sleep...

...had the forehand and vantage o'er a king

My lord, your nobles, jealous of your
absence, seek through your camp to find you

Good old knight, collect them all together at
my tent, I'll be before thee

I shall do it, my lord

O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts,
possess them not with fear...

...take from them now the sense of reckoning,
ere the opposed numbers pluck their hearts from them

Not today, O God, O, not today, think not
upon the fault my father made in compassing the crown

I Richard's body have interred new...

...and on it have bestowed more contrite tears
than from it issued forced drops of blood

Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay...

...who twice a day their withered hands hold up
toward heaven, to pardon blood...

...and I have built two chantries, where the
sad and solemn priests still sing for Richard's soul

More will I do, though all
that I can do is nothing worth...

...since that my penitence comes after all,
imploring pardon

- My liege
- My brother Gloucester's voice?

Ay, I know thy errand. I will go with thee

The day, my friends, and all things stay for
me

And so our scene must to the battle fly,
where, O, for pity, we shall much disgrace...

...with four or five most vile and ragged
foils...

...right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,
the name of Agincourt

Shog off!

Yet sit and see, minding true things
by what their mockeries be

The sun doth gild our armour. Up, my lords!

Montez à cheval!
My horse, varlet! Laquais! Ha!

- O brave spirit
- Via, through earth and water

- Nothing more? Through air and fire
- Through the stars, cousin Orléans

- Now, my lord constable?
- Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh

Mount them,
and make incision in their hides...

...that their hot blood may spin in English
eyes, and douse them with superfluous courage

What, will you have them weep our horses'
blood? How will we then behold their natural tears?

- The English are embattled, you French peers
- To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse

Do but behold yond poor and starved band...

...and your fair show shall suck away their
souls, leaving them but the shales and husks of men

There is not work enough for all our hands...

...scarce blood enough in all their sickly
veins to give each naked curtle-axe a stain

Let us but blow on them,
the vapour of our valour will o'erturn them

'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords...

...that our superfluous lackeys were enow
to purge this field of such a hilding foe

What's to say?
A very little little let us do, and all is done

Then let the trumpets sound...

...for our approach shall so much dare the
field that England shall couch down in fear and yield

Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?

Yond island carrions, desperate of their
bones, ill-favouredly become the morning field

Their ragged banners poorly are let loose,
and our air shakes them passing scornfully

Big Mars is bankrupt in their beggared host
and faintly through a rusty beaver peeps

The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks...

...and their poor jades lob down their dropping
heads, the gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes...

...and in their pale dull mouths the gimmaled
bit lies foul with chewed grass, still and motionless...

...and their executors, the knavish crows,
fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour

Description cannot suit itself in words
to demonstrate the life of such a battle...

...in life so lifeless as it shows itself

They have said their prayers and stay for
death

Shall we go send them dinners and fresh fruit
and give their starving horses provender...

...and after fight with them?

Come, come, away.
The sun is high and we outwear the day

- Where is the king?
- The king himself is rode to view their battle

- Of fighting men they have full threescore
thousand - There's five to one. Besides, they all are fresh

God's arm strike with us! 'Tis a fearful
odds. Warriors all, adieu

Farewell, good Warwick,
and good luck go with thee

Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today...

...and yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
for thou art framed of the firm truth of valour

He is as full of valour as of kindness,
princely in both

O, that we now had here but one ten thousand
of those men in England that do no work today

What's he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmorland?
No, my fair cousin

If we are marked to die,
we are enow to do our country loss...

...and if to live, the fewer men,
the greater share of honour

God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man
more

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
nor care I who doth feed upon my cost

It yearns me not if men my garments wear.
Such outward things dwell not in my desires...

...but if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive

No, faith, my coz,
wish not a man from England

God's peace,
I would not lose so great an honour...

...as one man more, methinks,
would share from me for the best hope I have...

...O, do not wish one more.
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host...

...that he which hath no stomach to this fight,
let him depart

His passport shall be made
and crowns for convoy put into his purse

We would not die in that man's company
that fears his fellowship to die with us

This day is called the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home...

...will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named,
and rouse him at the name of Crispian

He that shall live this day, and see old age...

...will yearly on the vigil feast his
neighbours, and say, 'tomorrow is Saint Crispian'

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his
scars, and say, 'these wounds I had on Crispin's day'

Old men forget. Yet all shall be forgot, but
he'll remember with advantages what feats he did that day

Then shall our names,
familiar in his mouth as household words...

...Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Westmoreland and Gloucester...

...be in their flowing cups freshly remembered

This story shall the good man teach his son,
and Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by...

...from this day to the ending of the world,
but we in it shall be remembered

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers

For he today that sheds his blood with me
shall be my brother...

...be he ne'er so vile,
this day shall gentle his condition

And gentlemen in England now abed
shall think themselves accursed they were not here...

...and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any
speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day

My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed

The French are bravely in their battles set,
and will with all expedience charge on us

- All things are ready, if our minds be so
- Perish the man whose mind is backward now

Thou dost not wish more help from England,
coz?

God's will, my liege, would you and I alone,
without more help, could fight this royal battle

Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand
men, which likes me better than to wish us one

You know your places. God be with you all

Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry...

...if for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
before thy most assured overthrow...

...for certainly thou art so near the gulf,
thou needs must be englutted

Besides, in mercy, the constable desires thee
thou wilt mind thy followers of repentance

That their souls may make a peaceful
and a sweet retire from off these fields...

...where, wretches,
their poor bodies must lie and fester

- Who hath sent thee now?
- The Constable of France

I prithee bear my former answer back:
bid them achieve me and then sell my bones

Good God, why should they mock poor fellows
thus?

A many of our bodies shall no doubt
find native graves...

...upon the which, I trust,
shall witness live in brass of this day's work...

...and those that leave their valiant bones in
France, dying like men, though buried in your dunghills...

...they shall be famed,
for there the sun shall greet them...

...and draw their honours reeking up to heaven...

...leaving their earthly parts to choke your
clime, the smell whereof shall breed a plague in France

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...

...but, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim

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

I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well.
Thou never shalt hear herald any more

I fear thou wilt once more come again for a
ransom

Now, soldiers, march away

And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day

Yield, cur!

Je pense que vous êtes
le gentilhomme de bon qualité

Don't you cowardly custard me!
Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name?

- Discuss
- O Seigneur Dieu

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 egregious ransom

O, pitié de moi!
Est-il impossible d'échapper la force de ton bras?

Brass, cur?
Thou damnable and luxurious mountain goat

- Offerest me brass?
- Pardonnez-moi

Come hither, boy

You ask me this slave in French what is his
name

- Écoutez, comment êtes-vous appelé?
- Monsieur le Fer

- He says his name is Master Fer
- Master Fer? I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him

- Discuss the same in French unto him
- I do not know the French for fer and ferret and firk

- Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat
- Que dit-il, monsieur?

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

Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy, peasant...

...except thou give me crowns, brave crowns,
or mangled shalt thou be by this my blade

O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu,
me pardonner

Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison

Gardez ma vie,
et je vous donnerai deux cents écus

- What are his words?
- 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

Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the
crowns will take

Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

Il est content à vous donner
la liberté, le franchisement

Sur mes genoux je vous donne
mille remerciements...

...et je m'estime heureux que
j'ai tombé entre les mains...

...d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave,
vaillant, et très distingué seigneur d'Angleterre

- Expound unto me, 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 signieur of England

As I suck blood, I will some mercy show

- Follow me
- Suivez-vous le grand capitaine

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 Nym had ten times more valour
than this roaring devil, and they are both hanged

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

- O diable!
- O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu

Mort de ma vie! All is confounded, all

Reproach and everlasting shame
sits mocking in our plumes. O méchante fortune

- Do not run away
- Why, all our ranks are broke

O, perdurable shame! Let's stab ourselves

- Be these the wretches we played at dice
for? - Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?

Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame.
In once more, back again

Disorder that hath spoiled us, friend us now.
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives

We are enough yet living in the field
to smother up the English in our throngs...

- ...if any order might be thought upon
- The devil take order now

I'll to the throng.
Let life be short, else shame will be too long

Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen.
But all's not done, yet keep the French the field

- The Duke of York commends him to your
majesty - Lives he, good uncle?

Thrice within this hour I saw him down

Thrice up again and fighting,
from helmet to the spur all blood he was

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

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...

...and cries aloud, 'Tarry, my cousin Suffolk.
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'

He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand
and with a feeble grip 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 so kissed his lips...

...and thus 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 that I would have stopped...

...but I had not so much of man in me...

...and all my mother came into mine eyes
and gave me up to tears

Hark, what new alarum is this same?

The French have reinforced their scattered
men

Then every soldier kill his prisoners

Cuppele gorge!

Kill the boys and the luggage!

'Tis expressly against the laws of arms

'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive...

...and the cowardly rascals that ran from the
battle have done this slaughter

Wherefore the king, most worthily, hath
caused every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat

- O, 'tis a gallant king
- Ay, he was born at Monmouth, Captain Gower

What call you the town's name
where Alexander the Pig was born?

- Alexander the Great
- Why, I pray you, is 'pig' not great?

The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the
huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings...

- ...save the phrase is a little variations
- I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon

I think it was Macedon where Alexander was
born

I tell you, captain, if you look
in the maps of the world...

...you shall find, in the comparisons of
Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike

If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of
Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well

Alexander, God knows, in his rages
and his wraths and his furies and his cholers...

...and his moods and his displeasures
and his indignations...

...and also being a little intoxicate in his
brains...

...did, in his angers and his ales,
look you, kill his best friend, Cleitus

Our king is not like him in this,
he never killed any of his friends

It is not well done, to take the tales
out of my mouth ere it is finished

As Alexander killed his friend Cleitus, being
in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth...

...being in his right wits and his good
judgements, turned away the fat knight with the great belly-doublet

He was full of jests and jibes and knaveries
and mocks. I have forgot his name

- Sir John Falstaff
- That is he

- I'll tell you there is brave men born at
Monmouth - Here comes his majesty

I was not angry since I came
to France until this instant

Take a herald, Warwick.
Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill

If they will fight with us, bid them come
down, or void the field. They do offend our sight

If they do not, we'll make them skirr away.
Besides we'll cut the throats of those we have...

...and not a man of them that we shall take
shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so

- Here comes the herald of the French, my
liege - His eyes are humbler than they used to be

How now? What means this, herald?
Com'st thou again for ransom?

No, great king.
I come to thee for charitable licence

That we may wander o'er this bloody field
to sort our nobles from our common men

For many of our princes, woe the while,
lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood

So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
in blood of princes...

...and our wounded steeds fret, fetlock-deep in
gore, and with wild rage yerk out their armed heels...

...at their dead masters, killing them twice

O, give us leave, great king, to view the
field in safety and dispose of their dead bodies

I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no

The day is yours

Praised be God, and not our strength, for it

- What is this castle called that stands hard
by? - They call it Agincourt

Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus

Your grandfather of famous memory,
an't please your majesty...

...and your great-uncle Edward
the Black Prince of Wales...

...fought a most brave battle here in France

- They did, Fluellen
- Your majesty says very true

If your majesty is remembered of it, the
Welshmen did good service in a garden where leeks did grow...

...wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps, which,
your majesty know, to this hour is an honourable badge...

...of the service, and I know that your majesty
takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Davy's day

I wear it as a memorable honour,
for I am Welsh, you know, good countryman

All the water in Wye cannot wash your
majesty's Welsh blood out of your body, I can tell you that

God bless it and preserve it, as long
as it pleases his grace, and your majesty too

- Thanks, good my countryman
- By Jesu, I am your countryman

I care not who know it.
I will confess it to all the world

I need not to be ashamed of your majesty, God
be praised, as long as your majesty is an honest man

God keep me so. Our heralds go with him

Bring me just notice
of the numbers dead on both our parts

- Call yonder fellow hither
- Soldier, you must come to the king

Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy
cap?

An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage
of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive

- An Englishman?
- An't please your majesty...

...a rascal that swaggered with me last night,
who, if alive and ever dare to challenge this glove...

...I have sworn to take him a box o'th'ear

What think you, Captain Fluellen?
Is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

He is a craven and a villain else,
an't please your majesty, in my conscience

Then keep thy vow, sirrah,
when thou meet'st the fellow

So I will, my liege, as I live

- Who servest thou under?
- Under Captain Gower, my liege

- Call him hither to me, soldier
- I will, my liege

Here, Fluellen, wear thou this favour for me
and stick it in thy hat

When Alençon and myself were down together,
I plucked this glove from his helm

If any man challenge this, he is a friend
to Alençon and an enemy to our person

Your majesty does me as great honours
as can be desired in the hearts of his subjects

I would fain see the man that has but two
legs that shall find himself aggrieved at this glove. That is all

Pray thee go seek Captain Gower,
and bring him to my tent

I will fetch him

I warrant it is to knight you, captain

God's will and his pleasure, captain,
I beseech you, come apace to the king

There is more good towards you peradventure
than is in your knowledge to dream of

- Sir, know you this glove?
- Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove

I know this, and thus I challenge it

'Sblood, as arrant a traitor as any
in the universal world, or in France, or in England

- How now, sir? You villain
- Do you think I'll be forsworn?

Stand away, Captain Gower. I will give
treason his payment into ploughs, I warrant you

- I am no traitor
- That's a lie in thy throat

I charge you in the name
of his majesty, apprehend him

How now? What's the matter?

My liege, here is the villain and the
traitor, that, look your grace...

...is struck the glove that your majesty
is take from the helmet of Alençon

My liege, this was my glove,
this is the fellow of it

And he I gave it to in change
promised to wear it in his cap

I promised to strike him, if he did

I met this man with my glove in his cap,
and I have been as good as my word

Your majesty hear now,
saving your majesty's manhood...

...what an arrant, scald, beggarly,
lousy, scurvy knave it is

And I hope your majesty will avouchment...

...that this is the glove of Alençon
that your majesty is give me, in your conscience, now

Give me that glove, sirrah

Look, here is the fellow of it

'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike,
and thou hast given me most bitter terms

An please your majesty, let his neck answer
for it, if there is any martial law in the world

How canst thou make me satisfaction?

All offences, my liege, come from the heart

Never came any from mine
that might offend your majesty

- It was ourself thou didst abuse
- Your majesty came not like yourself

You appeared to me but as a common man,
witness the night, your garments, your lowliness...

...and what your highness suffered under that
shape, I beseech you take it for your own fault and not mine

For had you been as I took you for,
I made no offence

Therefore, I beseech your highness, pardon me

Uncle Exeter...

...fill this glove with crowns, and give it to
this fellow

Keep it, fellow, and wear it as an honour
in thy cap till I do challenge it

Give him the crowns.
And captain, you must needs be friends with him

By this day and this light,
the fellow has mettle enough in his belly

Hold, there is twelve pence for you. I pray
you serve God, and keep you out of brawls and brabbles

- I warrant you, it be the better for you
- I will none of your money

It is with a good will. I can tell you,
it will serve you to mend your shoes

Come, wherefore should you be so bashful?

Your shoes is not so good.
It is a good shilling, I warrant you

- Now, Warwick, are the dead numbered?
- Here is the number of the slaughtered French

This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
that in the field lie slain

Of princes, in that number, 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

The names of those their nobles that lie dead

Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
Jaques of Chatillion, Admiral of France

The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures

Great Master of France,
the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin

John Duke of Alençon, Anthony Duke of
Brabant, 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 Lestrale

Here was a royal fellowship of death

Where is the number of our English dead?

Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, Esquire

None else of name, and of all other men...

...but five-and-twenty

O God, thy arm was here.
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 side and on the other?

- Take it, God, for it is none but thine
- 'Tis wonderful

Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum

Come, go we in procession to the village

And be it death proclaimed through our host...

...to boast of this or take the praise from
God, which is his only

Is it not lawful, an please your majesty,
to tell how many is killed?

Yes, captain, but with this acknowledgement,
that God fought for us

Yes, my conscience, he did us great good

Do we all holy rites,
the dead with charity enclosed in clay

And then to Calais, and to England then,
where ne'er from France arrived more happy men

Vouchsafe to those that have not read the
story, that I may prompt them

Now we bear the king towards 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, whose shouts and claps...

...out-voice 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...

...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...

...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,
like to the senators of antique Rome...

...with the plebeians swarming at their heels,
go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in

Now in London place him,
and omit all the occurrences...

...whatever chanced,
'til 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 abridgment, and your eyes advance,
after your thoughts, straight back again to France

Captain Fluellen, why wear you your leek
today? Saint Davy's day is past

There is occasions why and wherefore in all
things

But I will tell you, as you are
my friend, Captain Gower

The rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy knave,
Pistol, he is come to me yesterday, look you...

...and bid me eat my leek

It was in a place where I could not
breed no contention with him...

...but I will be so bold as to wear it in my
cap until I see him once again...

...and then I will tell him a little piece of
my desires

Why, here he comes now,
swelling like a turkey-cock

'Tis no matter for his swellings

God bless you, aunchient Pistol.
You scurvy, lousy knave, God bless you

Art thou Bedlam?
Hence, I am qualmish at the smell of leek

I beseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave,
to eat, look you, this leek

- Not for Cadwallader and all his goats
- There is one goat for you

- Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat
it? - Base Trojan, thou shalt die

Thou sayest very true, when God's will is.
I will desire you in the meantime, and eat your victuals

Come, there is sauce for it

You called me yesterday 'mountain squire'. I
pray you fall to. If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek

Enough, captain, you have astonished him

I say, I will make him eat some part of my
leek, or I will beat his pate four days

Bite, I pray you, it is good for your green
wound and your bloody coxcomb

Must I bite?

Yes, certainly, and out of doubt
and out of question too, and ambiguities

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge.
I eat and eat, I swear...

- Will you have some more sauce to your leek?
- Quiet thy cudgel, thou dost see I eat

I pray you throw none away,
the skin is good for your broken coxcomb

When you have occasions to see leeks
hereafter, I pray you mock at 'em, that is all

- Good
- Ay, leeks is good

- Hold you, there is a groat to heal your
pate - Me a groat?

Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it...

...or I have another leek in my pocket,
which you shall eat

Do you want to try some?

Doth Fortune play the hussy with me now?

News have I, that my Doll is dead in the
spital, 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

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

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 princes French and peers, health to you
all

Right joyous are we to behold your face,
most worthy brother England, fairly met

So are you, princes English, every one

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
the fatal balls of murdering basilisks...

...the venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
have lost that quality

Cry amen to that

You English princes all, I do salute you

And since my office hath so far prevailed
that, face to face and royal eye to eye...

...you have congreeted, let it not disgrace me
if I demand, before this royal view...

...why that the naked, poor and mangled Peace...

...should not in this best garden of the world,
our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?

Alas, she hath from France too long been
chased

Her vine, the merry cheerer
of the heart, unpruned dies

Her hedges even-pleached, like prisoners
wildly overgrown with hair, put forth disordered twigs

Her fallow leas the darnel, hemlock
and rank fumitory doth root upon...

...while that the coulter rusts
that should deracinate such savagery

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly
forth the freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover...

...wanting the scythe, conceives by idleness...

...and nothing teems but hateful docks, rough
thistles, kecksies, burs, losing both beauty and utility...

...and all our vineyards grow to wildness

Even so our houses and ourselves and
children...

...have lost, or do not learn for want of time,
the sciences that should become our country

But grow like savages, as soldiers will
that nothing do but meditate on blood

To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire
and everything that seems unnatural

Which to reduce into our former favour
you are assembled. And my speech entreats...

...that I may know the let, why gentle Peace
should not expel these inconveniences...

...and bless us with her former qualities

If her royal highness would the peace...

...whose want gives growth
to the imperfections which you have cited...

...you must buy that peace
with full accord to all our just demands

The king has heard them, to the which
as yet there is no answer made

Well then, the peace,
which you before so urged, lies in his answer

I have but with a cursitory eye
o'erglanced the articles

Pleaseth your grace to appoint some of your
council presently to re-survey them now with better heed

Brother, we shall.
Go, uncle Exeter, and brothers both

Will you, fair sister,
go with the princes, or stay here with us?

Our gracious cousin, I will go with them

Haply a woman's voice may do some good,
when articles too nicely urged be stood on

Yet leave our cousin Katherine here with us

She is our capital demand
comprised within the fore-rank of our articles

She hath good leave

Fair Katherine, and most fair...

...will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms

Such as will enter at a lady's ear
and plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?

Your majesty shall mock at me.
I cannot speak your England

Oh...

...fair Katherine, if you will love me
soundly with your French heart...

...I will be glad to hear you confess it
brokenly with your English tongue

Do you like me, Kate?

Pardonnez-moi

I cannot tell what is 'like me'

An angel is like you, Kate,
and you are like an angel

- Que dit-il? Que je suis semblable à les
anges? - Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grâce, ainsi dit-il

I said so, fair Katherine,
and I must not blush to affirm it

O bon Dieu! Les langues des hommes
sont pleines de tromperies

What says she, fair one?
That the tongues of men are full of deceits?

Oui, that the tongues of the mens
is be full of deceits

That is the princess

I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy
understanding. I am glad thou canst speak no better English

I know no ways to mince it in love,
but directly to say 'I love you'

Then if you urge me farther than to say,
'Do you in faith?', I wear out my suit

Give me your answer, i'faith, do,
and so clap hands and a bargain

- How say you, lady?
- Sauf votre honneur, me understand well

Marry...

...if you would put me to verses
or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me

If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by
vaulting into my saddle with my armour on my back...

...I should quickly leap into a wife.
But, before God, Kate...

...I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my
eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation

If thou canst love a fellow of this temper,
Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning...

...that never looks in his glass for love
of anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook

I speak to thee plain soldier.
If thou canst love me for this, take me

If not, to say to thee that I shall die, is
true, but for thy love, by the Lord, no, yet I love thee too

And while thou livest, Kate,
take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy...

...for he perforce must do thee right,
because he hath not the gift to woo in other places

A speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a
ballad

A good leg will fall, a straight back will
stoop, a black beard will turn white

A curled pate will grow bald,
a full face will wither, a fair eye will wax hollow...

...but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the
moon

Or rather the sun and not the moon, because
it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly

If thou would have such a one, take me...

...and take me, take a soldier

Take a soldier, take a king

And what say'st thou then to my love?
Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray you

Is it possible that I should love the enemy
of France?

No, it is not possible
you should love the enemy of France, Kate

But in loving me, you should love
the friend of France...

...for I love France so well I will not part
with a village of it, I will have it all mine

And, Kate, when France is mine and I am
yours, then yours is France and you are mine

- I cannot tell what is that
- No, Kate? I will tell thee in French

Je quand sur la possession de France,
et quand vous avez la possession de moi...

What next? Saint Denis be my speed!

Donc vôtre est France et vous êtes mienne

It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the
kingdom as to speak so much more French

I shall never move thee in French,
unless it be to laugh at me

Sauf votre honneur, le français que vous
parlez, il est meilleur que l'anglais lequel je parle

No, faith, is't not, Kate.
But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much English?

Can you love me?

I cannot tell

Can any of your neighbours tell? I'll ask
them

Come, I know you love me

And at night, when you come into your closet,
you'll question this gentlewoman about me...

...and I know, Kate, you will to her dispraise
those parts in me that you love with your heart...

...but, good Kate, mock me mercifully...

...the rather, gentle princess,
because I love thee cruelly...

...and if ever thou beest mine as I have
a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt...

...I get thee with scambling, and thou must
needs prove a good soldier-breeder

Shall not thou and I, between Saint Denis and
Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English...

...shall go to Constantinople
and take the Turk by the beard? Shall we not?

- What say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce?
- I do not know that

No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to
promise

What say you, la plus belle Katherine du
monde, mon très chère et devin déesse?

Your majesty have fausse French enough
to deceive the most sage demoiselle that is en France

Now, fie upon my false French!
Upon mine honour, in true English, I love you, Kate

Upon which honour I dare not swear thou
lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost...

...notwithstanding the poor effect of my
visage. When I come to woo ladies, I fright them...

...but, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax,
the better I shall appear

And therefore, most dear Katherine,
will you have me?

Come, your answer in broken music,
for thy voice is music and thy English broken

Therefore, Katherine, queen of all, break thy
mind to me in broken English. Will you have me?

That is as it shall please le roi mon père

Nay, it will please him well, Kate,
it shall please him, Kate

Then it shall also content me

Upon that I kiss your hand, and call you my
queen

Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez.
Ma foi, je ne veux point...

...que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en baisant
la main d'une, de votre seigneurie, indigne serviteur

Then I will kiss your lips, Kate

Les dames et demoiselles pour être baisées
devant leur noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France

Madam my interpreter, what says she?

That it is not be the fashion pour les ladies
of France...

- I cannot tell what is baiser en English
- To kiss

Your majesty entendre better que moi

It is not a fashion for the maids in France
to kiss before they are married, would she say?

- Oui, vraiment
- O, Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings

Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined
within the weak list of a country's fashion

We are the makers of manners, Kate

Therefore, patiently and yielding

You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate

Here comes your father

God save your majesty! Our gracious cousin,
teach you our daughter English?

I would have her know, how perfectly I love
her, fair cousin, and that is good English

- We have consented to all terms of reason
- Is't so, my lords of England?

The king hath granted every article.
His daughter first, and then in sequel all

Take her, fair son,
and from her blood raise up issue to me...

...that the contending kingdoms
of France and England...

...whose very shores look pale
may cease their hatred...

...and this dear conjunction plant
neighbourhood and Christian-like accord in their sweet bosoms...

...that never war advance his bleeding sword
'twixt England and fair France

Amen

Now, welcome, Kate. And bear me witness all,
that here I kiss her as my sovereign queen

God, the best maker of all marriages,
combine your hearts as one, your realms as one

As man and wife, being two, are one in love,
so be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal...

...that never may ill office, or fell jealousy,
which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage...

...thrust in between the paction of these
kingdoms, to make divorce of this incorporate league...

...that English may as French, French
Englishmen, receive each other. God speak this Amen

Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
our bending author hath pursued the story

In little room confining mighty men,
mangling by starts the full course of their glory

Small time, but in that small most greatly
lived this star of England

Fortune made his sword, by which the world's
best garden he achieved, and of it left his son imperial lord

Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crowned
King of France and England, did this king succeed

Whose state so many had the managing,
that they lost France and made his England bleed

Which oft our stage hath shown...

...and, for their sake,
in your fair minds let this acceptance take