SCENE IV. The Field of Battle. Alarums. Excursions. Enter French Soldier, PISTOL, and Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur!

Fr. Sold. Je pense que vous estes gentilhomme de bonne qualité.

Pist. Qualtitie? Calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman ?

What is thy name? discuss.

Fr. Sold. O Seigneur Dieu!

Pist. 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.

Fr. Sold. O, prenez misericorde! ayez pitié de moy! Pist. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty

moys;

Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat

In drops of crimson blood.

Fr. Sold. Est il impossible d'eschapper la force de

ton bras?

Pist. Brass, cur!

Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,
Offer'st me brass?

Fr. Sold. O pardonnez moy!

Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys? Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French What is his name.

Boy. Escoutez: comment estes vous appellé?
Fr. Sold. Monsieur le Fer.

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.

Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him,

and ferret him. Discuss the same in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat. Fr. Sold. Que dit-il, monsieur?

Boy. Il me commande à vous dire que vous faites vous prest; car ce soldat icy est disposé tout à cette heure de couper vostre gorge.

Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,

Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns; Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sold. O! je vous supplie pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner. Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison: gardez ma vie, et je vous donneray deux cents escus.

Pist. What are his words?

Boy. He prays you to save his life: he is a gentleman of a good house; and for his ransom he will give you two hundred crowns.

Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I The crowns will take.

Fr. Sold. Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

Boy. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier; neant-moins, pour les escus que vous l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.

Fr. Sold. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciemens; et je m'estime heureux que je suis tombé entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et très-distingué seigneur d'Angleterre. Pist. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand

thanks; and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England.

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. Follow me!

Boy. Suivez vous le grand capitaine.

[Exeunt PISTOL and French Soldier. I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart but the saying is true, 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.' Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring devil i' the old play, that every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so would this be if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with the luggage of our camp: the French might have a good prey of us if he knew of it; for there is none to guard it but boys. [Exit.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field.
Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, BOURBON,
Constable, RAMBURES, and others.

Con. O diable!

Orl. O seigneur le jour est perdu! tout est perdu ! Dau. Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all! Reproach and everlasting shame

Con.

Sit mocking in our plumes. O meschante fortune!
Do not run away.
[A short alarum.
Why, all our ranks are broke.
Dau. O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves.
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?

Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom? Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!

Let us die in honour! Once more back again ;
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand,
Like a base pandar, hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminated.

Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now! Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

Orl. We are enough yet living in the field

To smother up the English in our throngs,

If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:

Let life be short, else shame will be too long.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Another Part of the Field.

Alarums. Enter King HENRY and Forces;
EXETER, and others.

K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen :

But all's not done; yet keep the French the field. Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

K. Hen. 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.

Exe. 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 insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;

And cries aloud, Tarry, dear 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!

Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up;
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, 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 kiss'd his lips;
And so espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd
But I had not so much of man in me,

And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.

K. Hen.
I blame you not;
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum.
But, hark! what new alarum is this same ?

The French have reinforced their scatter'd men:
Then every soldier kill his prisoners !
Give the word through.

[Exeunt