But all's not done; yet keep the French the field.

Enter EXETer.

Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? Thrice, within this hour,

I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.

Exe. In which array (brave soldier !) doth he lie,
Larding the plain: and by his bloody side
(Yokefellow to his honour-owing wounds),
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

Suffolk first died; and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face,
And cries aloud,-" Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heav'n;
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;
As, in this glorious and well-foughten field,
We kept together in our chivalry!"

Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up:
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says,-" Dear, my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign."

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd

Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd;

But I had not so much of man in me,

But all my mother came into mine eyes,

And

gave me up to tears.

K. Hen. I blame you not;

For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

[Charge-Cannon

But hark! what new alarum is this same ?
The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men;
Then every soldier kill his prisoners:

Give the word through.

SCENE VII.

[Charge, &c.-Exeunt.

Another Part of the Field.

Alarums continued.

Enter FLUELLEN, and GoWER.

Flu. Kill the poys, and the luggage! 'Tis expressly against the law of arms. "Tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offer'd in the 'orld: in your conscience now, is it not?

Gow. "Tis certain, the French have not left a boy alive; and the cowardly rascals that ran away from the battle, have done this slaughter: besides, they have burned, and carried away, all that was in the king's tent wherefore the king, most worthily, hath caused every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a gallant king!

Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower:-What call you the town's name, where Alexander the pig was porn?

Gow. Alexander the great.

Flu. Why, I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.

Gow. I think Alexander the great was born in Macedon; his father was called-Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I think it is in Macedon, where Alexander is porn.-I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of

the 'orld, I warrant you shall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is poth alike. There is a river in Macedon; and there is also, moreover, a river at Monmouth; it is called Wye, at Monmouth; but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river; but, 'tis all one 'tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in poth. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things.— Alexander, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Clytus.

Gow. Our king is not like him in that; he never killed any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made an end, and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: As Alexander is kill his friend Clytus, being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his goot judgments, is turn away the fat knight with the great pellydoublet; he was full of jests, and gypes, and knaveries, and mocks; I am forget his name.

Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he.-I tell you, there is good men porn at Monmouth.

[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets.]

Gow. Here comes his majesty.

Flourish.

[Exit GoWER.

Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, GLOSTER, WestMORELAND, BEDFORD, HERALDS, ATTENDANTS, CAPTAIN, and GUARDS.

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

Ride you unto the horsemen on yon hill;
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field; they do offend our sight:
If they'll do neither, we will come to them;
And make them skir away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Go, and tell them so.

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

Glost. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.

Enter MONTJOY, and ATTENDANTS.

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

That I have fin'd 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 (woe 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.
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 Heaven, and not our strength, for it!

What is this castle call'd, that stands hard by ?

Mont. They call it-Agincourt.

K. Hen. Then call we this-the field of Agin court,

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets-Shouts.]

Flu. Your grandfather, of famous memory, an't please your majesty, and your great uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France. K. Hen. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your majesty says very true: If your majesty is remember'd of it, the Welshmen did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which, your majesty knows, tó this hour is an honourable padge of the service; and I do pelieve your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon St. Tavy's day.

K. Hen. I wear it for a memorable honour: For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

Flu. All the water in the Wye cannot wash your majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that: Heaven pless it and preserve it, as long as it pleases your grace, and his majesty too.

K. Hen. Thanks, good my countryman.

Flu. I am your majesty's countryman, I care not who knows it: I will confess it to all the 'orld; I need not be ashamed of your majesty, praised be Heaven, so long as your majesty is an honest man. K. Hen. Heaven keep me so!-Our heralds go with him:

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead

On both our parts.—

Exit MONTJOY, with the HERALDS, and his
ATTENDANTS.

Call yonder fellow hither.

Exe. Soldier, you must come to the king,