Flu. It is captain Macmorris, is it not? Flu. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the 'orld. I will verify as much in his peard; he has no more directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. Enter MACMORRIS and JAMY, at a distance. Gow. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, captain Jamy, with him. Flu. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is certain; and of great expedition, and knowledge, in the ancient wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the 'orld, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans. Jamy. I say, gud-day, captain Fluellen. Flu. God-den to your worship, goot captain Jamy. Gow. How now, captain Macmorris? have you quit the mines? have the pioneers given o'er? Mac. By Chrish la, tish ill done; the_work ish give over; the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and by my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over. I would have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O, tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! Flu. Captain Macmorris, I peseech 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, in 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 direction of the military discipline that is the point. Jamy. It sall be very gud, gud feith, gud captains bath; and I sall quit' you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I, marry. 1 "I sall quit you;" I shall, with your permission, requite you; that is, answer you, or interpose with my arguments, as I shall find opportunity. Mac. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me; the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the king, and the dukes; it is no time to discourse. The town is beseeched, and the trumpet calls us to the breach; and we talk, and, by Chrish, do nothing; 'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la. Jamy. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to slumber, aile do gude service, or aile ligge i' the grund for it: ay, or go to death: and aile it as valorously as I may, that sall I surely do, that is the breff and the long. Mary, I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you tway. pay Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation Mac. Of my nation? What ish my nation? ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation? Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, captain Macmorris, peradventure, I shall think you do not use me with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you; being as goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities. Mac. I do not know you so good a man as myself: so Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. Gow. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. Jamy. Au! that's a foul fault. [A parley sounded. Gow. The town sounds a parley. Flu. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war; and there is an end. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Before the gates of Harfleur. The Governor and some Citizens on the Walls; the English Forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his Train. K. Hen. How yet resolves the governor of the town? This is the latest parle we will admit : Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves; Or, like to men proud of destruction, Defy us to our worst; for, as I am a soldier, (A name, that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,) If I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur Till in her ashes she lie buried. The gates of mercy shall be all shut up; And the fleshed soldier,-rough and hard of heart,— With conscience wide as hell; mowing like grass What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, What rein can hold licentious wickedness, As send precepts to the Leviathan To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, grace The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls; Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end: K. Hen. Open your gates.-Come, uncle Exeter, 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'll retire to Calais. To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest; To-morrow for the march are we addressed.1 [Flourish. The King, &c. enter the town. SCENE IV.2 Rouen. A Room in the Palace. Enter KATHARINE and ALICE. Kath. Alice, tu as esté en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. Alice. Un peu, 1 i. e. prepared. madame. 2 Every one must wish to believe, with Warburton and Farmer, that this scene is an interpolation. Yet, as Johnson remarks, the grimaces of the two Frenchwomen, and the odd accent with which they uttered the English, might divert an audience more refined than could be found in the Poet's t.me. Kath. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne à parler. Comment appellez vous la main, en Anglois? Alice. La main? elle est appellée, de hand. Kath. De hand. Et les doigts? Alice. Les doigts? ma foy, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me souviendray. Les doigts? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres; ouy, de fingres. Kath. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon escolier. J'ay gagné deux mots d'Anglois vistement. Comment appellez vous les ongles? Alice. Les ongles? les appellons, de nails. Kath. De nails. Escoutez; dites moy, si je parle bien; de hand, de fingres, de nails. Alice. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. Kath. Dites moy en Anglois, le bras. Alice. De arm, madame. Kath. Et le coude. Alice. De elbow. Kath. De elbow. Je m'en faitz la répétition de tous les mots, que vous m'avez appris dès à present. Alice. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. Kath. Excusez moy, Alice; escoutez: De hand, de fingre, de nails, de arm, de bilbow. Alice. De elbow, madame. Kath. O Seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie; de elbow. Comment appellez vous le col? Alice. De neck, madame. Kath. De neck. Et le menton? Alice. De chin. Kath. De sin. Le col, de neck: le menton, de sin. Alice. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur; en vérité, vous prononcez les mots aussi droict que les natifs d'Angle terre. Kath. Je ne doute point d'apprendre par la grace Dieu; et en peu de temps. de Alice. N'avez vous pas déjà oublié ce que je vous ay enseigné? |