SCENE V.The FRENCH KING'S palace
Enter the KING OF FRANCE,the DAUPHIN,DUKE OF BRITAINE,the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE,and others
FRENCH KING.'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.CONSTABLE.And if he be not fought withal,my lord,Let us not live in France;let us quit an,And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.DAUPHIN.O Dieu vivant!Shall 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?BRITAINE.Normans,but bastard Normans,Norman bastards!Mort Dieu,ma vie!if they march along Unfought withal,but I will sell my dukedom To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.CONSTABLE.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,A drench for sur-rein'd jades,their barley-broth,Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?And shall our quick blood,spirited with wine,Seem frosty?O,for 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-Poor we call them in their native lords!DAUPHIN.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.BRITAINE.They bid us to the English dancing-schools And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,Saying our grace is only in our heels And that we are most lofty runaways.FRENCH KING.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 Delabreth,High Constable of France;You Dukes of Orleans,Bourbon,and of Berri,Alengon,Brabant,Bar,and Burgundy;Jaques Chatillon,Rambures,Vaudemont,Beaumont,Grandpre,Roussi,and Fauconbridge,Foix,Lestrake,Bouciqualt,and Charolois;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 valleys,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.CONSTABLE.This becomes the great.Sorry am I his numbers are so few,His soldiers sick and famish'd 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.FRENCH KING.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.DAUPHIN.Not so,I do beseech your Majesty.FRENCH KING.Be patient,for you shall remain with us.Now forth,Lord Constable and Princes all,And quickly bring us word of England's fall.Exeunt
SCENE VI.The English camp in Picardy
Enter CAPTAINS,English and Welsh,GOWER and FLUELLEN GOWER.How now,Captain Fluellen!Come you from the bridge?
FLUELLEN.I assure you there is very excellent services committed at the bridge.GOWER.Is the Duke of Exeter safe?FLUELLEN.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 live,and my living,and my uttermost power.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 Antony;and he is man of no estimation in the world;but I did see him do as gallant service.GOWER.What do you call him?FLUELLEN.He is call'd Aunchient Pistol.GOWER.I know him not.Enter PISTOL
FLUELLEN.Here is the man.PISTOL.Captain,I thee beseech to do me favours.The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.FLUELLEN.Ay,I praise God;and I have merited some love at his hands.PISTOL.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-FLUELLEN.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,which is the moral of it,that she is turning,and inconstant,and mutability,and variation;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 deion of it:Fortune is an excellent moral.PISTOL.Fortune is Bardolph's foe,and frowns on him;For he hath stol'n a pax,and hanged must 'a be-A damned death!Let gallows gape for dog;let man go free,And let not hemp his windpipe 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.FLUELLEN.Aunchient Pistol,I do partly understand your
meaning.PISTOL.Why then,rejoice therefore.FLUELLEN.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 pleasure,and put him to execution;for discipline ought to be used.PISTOL.Die and be damn'd!and figo for thy friendship!FLUELLEN.It is well.PISTOL.The fig of Spain!Exit