The dead with charity enclos'd in clay.
And then to Calais; and to England then,

Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men.

Exeunt.

ACT FIVE

Enter Chorus.

Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,
That I may prompt them: and of such as have,
I humbly pray them to admit the excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life
Be here presented. Now we bear the king
Toward 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-mouth'd

sea,

12

16

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.
So swift a pace hath thought that even now
You may imagine him upon Blackheath;
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; 20
Giving full trophy, signal and ostent,

Quite from himself, to God. But now behold,

In the quick forge and working-house of thought,

7 grant: imagine

10 Pales in: encompasses

12 whiffler: officer who went at the head of a procession 21 signal: symbols of victory

ostent: triumphal show

How London doth pour out her citizens.
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conquering Cæsar in:
As, by a lower but loving likelihood,

Were now the general of our gracious empress,—
As in good time he may, from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit

To welcome him! much more, and much more cause,
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;
As yet the lamentation of the French
Invites the King of England's stay at home,-
The emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them;—and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
Till Harry's back-return again to France:
There must we bring him; and myself have play'd
The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.
Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance,

After your thoughts, straight back again to France.

Scene One

[France. The English camp]

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Exit.

Gow. Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past.

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, asse my 4 friend, Captain Gower.

25 sort: array

32 broached: transfixed

39 order: arrange

The rascally, scald,

30 general: Earl of Essex; cf. n. 38 emperor's; cf. n. 5 scald: scurvy

beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol,—which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits,— 8 he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek. It was in a place where I could not preed no contention with him; but I will be so pold as to 12 wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. Gow. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.

Enter Pistol.

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!

16

Pist. Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Troyan,

To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?

Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

20

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my desires and my requests and my 24 petitions to eat, look you, this leek; pecause, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections and your appetites and your digestions does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. Flu. There is one goat for you. Strikes him. Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it? Pist. Base Troyan, thou shalt die.

Flu. You say very true, scald knave, when God's will is. I will desire you to live in the

11, 12 preed. contention: push a quarrel

20 bedlam: mad Troyan: Trojan, cant term for rioter

21 Parca: i.e., Parca, the Fates

29 Cadwallader: the last of the Welsh kings

28

32

mean time and eat your victuals; come, there is sauce for it. [Strikes him again.] You called 36 me yesterday mountain-squire, but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. Gow. Enough, captain: you have astonished him.

Flu. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you; it is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

Pist. Must I bite?

Flu. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question too and ambiguities.

Pist. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge. I eat and eat, I swear

Flu. Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist. Quiet thy cudgel: thou dost see I eat.

Flu. Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all.

Pist. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist. Me a groat!

Flu. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

40 astonished: stunned (?)

62 groat: a coin worth fourpence

41

45

48

53

60

66

45 coxcomb: head

Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

Flu. If I owe you anything I will pay you in cudgels: you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God be wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

Pist. All hell shall stir for this.

Exit.

72

Gow. Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and 76 dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native 80 garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel: you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye well.

Exit.

Pist. Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?

85

News have I that my Doll is dead i' the spital

Of malady of France:

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.

88

Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgell'd. 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 cudgell'd scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.

75 respect: consideration

78 gleeking: scoffing galling: jeering 84 condition: disposition

92

Exit.

77 avouch: support 81 garb: manner 85 huswife: jilt