Pist. Base tike, call'st thou me-host?

Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term.

Bard. Good lieutenant-good corporal, offer nothing here.

Hostess. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valor, and put up thy sword.

Nym. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier; and that's the humor of it.

Pist. O braggart vile, and damned furious wight! The grave doth gape, and doting death is near.

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

Pist. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

Nym. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms; that is the humor of it.

Bard. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?

Pist. Let floods o'erswell and fiends for food howl on!

Nym. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you?

Pist. Base is the slave that pays.

Nym. That now I will have; that's the humor of it.

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

Pist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their

course.

Nym. I shall have my eight shillings?

Pist. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;

King Henry V, Act III, Scene iii.

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 sutler be

Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.

Nym. I shall have my noble?

Pist. In cash most justly paid.

Nym. Well, then, that's the humor of it.

The humor of it requires us to remember that nym means to take, to steal; the reason for Pistol's desire for office shows us that in this mutable world some things remain fixed.

HARFLEUR.

We may yield our imaginations to the touch of the chorus in the play and see the king embark at Hampton; the ship-boys climbing upon the hempen tackle; the sails borne with the invisible wind drawing the huge ships through the furrowed sea; a majestic fleet, looking like a city dancing on the inconstant billows, but holding a due course to Harfleur. We shall see the English troops going ashore; a siege soon, the nimble gunner touching off the cannon whose fatal mouths gape upon the girdled city, and after some vain attempts at storming have been made, we shall hear the ringing commands of Henry :

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, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage:
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 noble English!
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 luster 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 !

The verbal accompaniment of the siege was not all rendered in this high key, for Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and a very precocious boy were actors, at least in the oral part; besides these there were certain others, notably the Welshman, Fluellen, who will not fail to call for attention.

Bard. On, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!

Nym. 'Pray thee, corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives.