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Then, joyfully,–my noble lord of Bedford,—
My dear lord Gloster, and my good lord Exeter,
And my kind kinsman,'—warriors all, adieu !
Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go
with thee! .
Eve. Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day.
And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
For thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
Bed. He is as full of valor, as of kindness;
Princely in both. - -
West. O that we now had here


But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day !

K. Hen. What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland **—No, my fair cousin.
If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns” me not, if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But, if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honor,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more.
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

* “And my kind kinsman.” This is addressed to Westmoreland by the speaker, who was Thomas JMontacute, earl of Salisbury: he was not, in point of fact, related to Westmoreland; there was only a kind of connec: tion by marriage between their families. * In the quarto this speech is addressed to Warwick. * To yearn is to grieve or vex.

Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called—the feast of Crispian:"
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tiptoe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say—To-morrow is Saint Crispian ;
Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words—
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered:
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers,
For he, to-day, that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition : *
And gentlemen in England, now abed,
Shall think themselves accursed, they were not here :
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

! “The feast of Crispian.” The battle of Agincourt was fought upon the 25th of October, 1415.

* i.e. shall advance him to the rank of a gentleman. King Henry V. inhibited any person, but such as had a right by inheritance or grant, from bearing coats of arms, except those who fought with him at the battle of Agincourt; and these last were allowed the chief seats at all feasts and public meetings.


Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed; The French are bravely in their battles set, And will with all expedience charge on us. K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so. West. Perish the man whose mind is backward now ! R. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin P West. God’s will, my liege, 'would you and I alone, Without more help, might fight this battle out! K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men ; * Which likes me better, than to wish us one.— You know your places. God be with you all!

Tucket. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, king

. Harry, If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, Before thy most assured overthrow ; For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf, Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy The constable desires thee—thou wilt mind” Thy followers of repentance; that their souls May make a peaceful and a sweet retire From off these fields, where (wretches) their poor


Must lie and fester. *

K. Hen. Who hath sent thee now P

Mont. The constable of France.

K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back;

! “— thou hast unwished five thousand men.” By wishing only thyself and me, thou hast wished five thousand men away. The Poet, inattentive to numbers, puts five thousand; but in the last scene the French are said to be full threescore thousand, which Exeter declares to be five to one; the numbers of the English are variously stated; Holinshed makes them fifteen thousand, others but nine thousand. ° i.e. remind.

Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones.
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man, that once did sell the lion’s skin
While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall, no doubt,
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day’s work.
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet
them, 3.
And draw their honors reeking up to heaven;
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valor in our English;
That, being dead, like to the bullet’s grazing,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly.—Tell the constable,
We are but warriors for the working-day.
Our gayness, and our gilt, are all besmirched
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There’s not a piece of feather in our host,
(Good argument, I hope, we shall not fly.)
And time hath worn us into Slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim ;
And my poor soldiers tell me—yet ere night
They’ll be in fresher robes; or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers’ heads,
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
(As, if God please, they shall,) my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labor;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald :
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
Which if they have as I will leave 'em to them,
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.
Mont. I shall, king Harry. And so fare thee well;
Thou never shalt hear herald any more. [Exit.
K. Hen. I fear thou’lt once more come again for
Tall SOIsl.

Enter the Duke of York.

York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg The leading of the vaward.” o R. Hen. Take it, brave York.-Now, soldiers, march away;— And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day ! [Eveunt.

SCENE IV. The Field of Battle. Alarums : Ea:cursions.

Enter French Soldier, Pistol, and Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur. . Fr. Sol. Je pense, que vous estes legentilhomme de bonne qualité. Pist. Quality P Callino, castore me!” Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name f discuss. Fr. Sol. O seigneur Dieu ! Pist. O, seignior Dew should be a gentleman.— Perpend my words, O seignior Dew, and mark;— O seignior Dew, thou diest on point of fox," Except, O seignior, thou do give to me Egregious ransom. Fr. Sol. O, prennez miserweorde / ayez pitié de moy!

1 “The duke of York.” This Edward duke of York has already appeared in King Richard II. under the title of duke of Aumerle. He was the son of Edmond Langley, the duke of York of the same play, who was the fifth son of king Edward III. Richard earl of Cambridge, who appears in the second act of this play, was younger brother to this Edward duke of York.

2 The vauvard is the vanguard.

3 “Callino, castore me!” The jargon of the old copies, where these words are printed Qualitie calmie custure me, was changed by former editors into “Quality, call you me? construe me.” Malone found Calen o custure me, mentioned as the burden of a song in “A Handful of Plesant Delites,” 1584. And Mr. Boswell discovered that it was an old Irish song, which is printed in Playford's Musical Companion, 1667 or 1673:—

“Callino, Callino, Callino, castore me,
Eva ee, eva ee, loo, loo, loo lee.” w

The words are said to mean “Little girl of my heart forever and ever.”

4 “ — thou diest on point of for.” For is an old cant word for a sword. Generally old for ; it was applied to the old English broadsword.

VOI. IV. 25

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