Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he: I can tell you, there is goot men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his majesty.

ALARUM. Enter KING HENRY with a part of the English forces; WARWICK, GLOSTER, EXETER, and others.

K. Hen. I was not angry since I came to France,
Until this instant.—Take a trumpet, herald;

Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill;
If they'll do neither, we will come to them;
Or void the field; they do offend our sight:
If they'll do neither, we will come to them;
And make them skirr away as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have;
And not a man of them, that we shall take,
Shall taste our mercy:-Go, and tell them so.

Enter MONTJOY

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

Glo. His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

K. Hen. How now? what means this, herald? know'st thou not,

That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?

Com'st thou again for ransom?

Mont. No, great king:

I come to thee for charitable license,

That we may wander o'er this bloody field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them:
To sort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our princes (wo the while!)
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;
(So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
Fret, fetlock deep in gore, and, with wild rage,

Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
Killing them twice.) O give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety, and dispose

Of their dead bodies.

K. Hen. I tell thee truly, herald,

I know not, if the day be ours, or no;
For yet a many of your horsemen peer,
And gallop o'er the field.

Mont. The day is yours.

K. Hen. Praised be God, and not our strength for it!— What is this castle call'd, that stands hard by?

Mont. They call it Agincourt.

K. Hen. Then we call this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crispians.

SCENES FROM "THE RIVALS"

By RICHARD B. SHERIDAN

Act II, Scene I

Capt A. Now for a parental lecture. I hope he has heard nothing of the business that has brought me here. I wish the gout had held him fast in Devonshire, with all my soul!

Enter SIR ANTHONY

Capt. A. Sir, I am delighted to see you here, and looking so well!—your sudden arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health.

Sir A. Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack.-What, you are recruiting here, hey?

Capt. A. Yes, sir, I am on duty.

Sir A. Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, tho I did not expect it; for I was going to write to you on a little matter of business.—Jack, I have been considering that I grow old and infirm, and shall probably not trouble you long.

Capt. A. Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty, and I pray fervently that you may continue so.

Sir A. I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well, then, Jack, I have been considering that as I am so strong and hearty, I may continue to plague you for a long time.-Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small pittance for a lad of your spirit.

Capt. A. Sir, you are very good.

Sir A. And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble independence.

Capt. A. Sir, your kindness overpowers me.-Yet, sir, I presume you would not wish me to quit the army?

Sir A. Oh! that shall be as your wife chooses.

Capt. A. My wife, sir!

Sir A. Ay, ay, settle that between you,-settle that between

you.

Capt. A. A wife, sir, did you say?

Sir A. Ay, a wife: why, did not I mention her before?
Capt. A. Not a word of her, sir.

Sir A. Oddso! I mustn't forget her, tho.-Yes, Jack, the independence I was talking of is by a marriage, the fortune is saddled with a wife, but, I suppose, that makes no difference? Capt. A. Sir! sir! you amaze me!

Sir A. Why, what's the matter with the fool? Just now you were all gratitude and duty.

Capt A. I was sir,-you talked to me of independence and a fortune, but not a word of a wife.

Sir A. Why, what difference does that make? Odds life, sir! you have the estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it stands.

if

Capt. A. Pray, sir, who is the lady?

Sir A. What's that to you sir?-Come, give me your promise to love, and to marry her directly.

Capt. A. Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a lady I know nothing of!

Sir A. I am sure, sir, 'tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you know nothing of.

Capt. A. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this point I can not obey you.

Sir A. Harkye, Jack!—I have heard you for some time with patience I have been cool-quite cool; but take care—you know I am compliance itself—when I am not thwarted; no one more easily led—when I have my own way;—but don't you put me in a frenzy.

Capt. A. Sir, I must repeat it-in this, I can not obey you. Sir A. Now, hang me, if ever I call you Jack again while I live!

Capt. A. Nay, sir, but hear me.

Sir A. Sir, I won't hear a word-not a word! not one word! so give me your promise by a nod—and I'll tell you what, Jack -I mean, you dog-if you don't, by—

Capt. A. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness!

Sir A. Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, she shall be all this, sirrah!—yet I'll make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night, to write sonnets on her beauty.

Capt. A. This is reason and moderation indeed!

Sir A. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes! Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humor for mirth in my life.

Sir A. 'Tis false, sir; I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll grin when I am gone, sirrah!

Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better.

Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please. It won't do with me, I promise you.

Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.

Sir A. 'Tis a lie!-I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog; but it won't do. Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word

Sir A. So you will fly out! Can't you be cool, like me!—

What good can passion do?-passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again!-don't provoke me!-but you rely upon the mildness of my temper-you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my disposition! Yet take care the patience of a saint may be overcome at last!-but mark!-I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do everything on earth that I choose, why-confound you, I may in time forgive you. If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a five-and-three-pence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest. I'll disown you; I'll disinherit you, and, hang me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit. Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father! I kiss your hands.

II

Act III, Scene I

Capt. A. 'Tis just as Fag told me, indeed!—Whimsical enough, 'faith! My father wants to force me to marry the very girl I am planning to run away with! He must not know of my connection with her yet awhile. He has too summary a method of proceeding in these matters; however, I'll read my recantation instantly. My conversion is something sudden, indeed; but I can assure him it is very sincere.

Enter SIR ANTHONY

say ?

Sir A. No-I'll die sooner than forgive him! Die, did I I'll live these fifty years to plague him. At our last meeting his impudence had almost put me out of temper—an obstinate, passionate, self-willed boy! Who can he take after? This is my return for putting him, at twelve years old, into a marching regiment, and allowing him fifty pounds a year, besides his pay,