Another part of the battlefield.
(Fluellen; Gower; King Henry the Fifth; Bourbon; Warwick; Gloucester; Exeter; Heralds; Montjoy; Williams)
Fluellen and Gower discuss the French killing of the boys and Henry’s order to kill the prisoners. The Welsh Fluellen is deeply proud that the King was born at Monmouth in Wales, and compares him to Alexander the Great. Mountjoy comes to acknowledge the French defeat and asks leave to count the French dead. Henry accepts, and decides the name the battle Agincourt, after a nearby castle. Seeing Williams, Henry asks him the meaning of the glove in his cap, and Williams explains about his quarrel the night before. Fluellen tells the King that no matter how noble, Williams’s challenger must take up the quarrel should they meet. Williams is sent to fetch his captain, Gower, and Henry gives the glove to Fluellen, telling him it is the glove of a French noble, Alencon, and that anybody that challenges the gage is an enemy to the King. After Fluellen leaves, Henry explains his jest to Warwick and Gloucester the story, and bids them keep watch that the hot-headed Fluellen does not carry things too far. (100 lines)
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
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 offert; in your conscience, now, is it not?
’Tis certain there’s not a boy left alive, and the cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha’ done this slaughter. Besides, they have burn’d and carried away all that was in the King’s tent; wherefore the King, most worthily, hath caus’d every soldier to cut his prisoner’s throat. O, ’tis a gallant king!
Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What call you the town’s name where Alexander the Pig was born?
Alexander the Great.
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.
I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon. His father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.
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 sall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth. It is call’d Wye at Monmouth; but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river; but ’tis all one, ’tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. 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, God knows, and you know, 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 best friend, Clytus.
Our King is not like him in that; he never kill’d any of his friends.
It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it: as Alexander kill’d his friend Clytus, being in his ales and his cups; so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his good judgments, turn’d away the fat knight with the great belly doublet. He was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks—I have forgot his name.
Sir John Falstaff.
That is he. I’ll tell you there is good men porn at Monmouth.
Here comes his Majesty.
Alarum. Enter King Harry and Bourbon with other prisoners; Warwick, Gloucester, Exeter, Heralds, and others. Flourish.
I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald,
Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond 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 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.
Exit a Herald.
Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.
His eyes are humbler than they us’d to be.
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?
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,
Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great King,
To view the field in safety, and dispose
Of their dead bodies!
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.
The day is yours.
Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!
What is this castle call’d that stands hard by?
They call it Agincourt.
Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
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.
They did, Fluellen.
Your Majesty says very true. If your Majesties is rememb’red of it, the Welshmen did good service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps, which, your Majesty know, to this hour is an honorable badge of the service; and I do believe your Majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy’s day.
I wear it for a memorable honor;
For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
All the water in Wye cannot wash your Majesty’s Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that. God pless it, and preserve it, as long as it pleases his Grace, and his Majesty too!
Thanks, good my countryman.
By Jeshu, I am your Majesty’s countryman, I care not who know it. I will confess it to all the orld. I need not to be ashamed of your Majesty, praised be God, so long as your Majesty is an honest man.
God keep me so!
Our heralds go with him;
Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.
Exeunt Heralds with Montjoy.
Soldier, you must come to the King.
Soldier, why wear’st thou that glove in thy cap?
And’t please your Majesty, ’tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive.
And’t please your Majesty, a rascal that swagger’d with me last night; who if alive and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box a’ th’ ear; or if I can see my glove in his cap, which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear if alive, I will strike it out soundly.
What think you, Captain Fluellen? Is it fit this soldier keep his oath?
He is a craven and a villain else, and’t please your Majesty, in my conscience.
It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree.
Though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your Grace, that he keep his vow and his oath. If he be perjur’d, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jack sauce, as ever his black shoe trod upon God’s ground and His earth, in my conscience law!
Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet’st the fellow.
So I will, my liege, as I live.
Who serv’st thou under?
Under Captain Gower, my liege.
Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and literatured in the wars.
Call him hither to me, soldier.
I will, my liege.
Here, Fluellen, wear thou this favor for me and stick it in thy cap. When Alanson and myself were down together, I pluck’d this glove from his helm. If any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alanson, and an enemy to our person. If thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou dost me love.
Your Grace doo’s me as great honors as can be desir’d in the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find himself aggrief’d at this glove; that is all. But I would fain see it once, and please God of his grace that I might see.
Know’st thou Gower?
He is my dear friend, and please you.
Pray thee go seek him, and bring him to my tent.
I will fetch him.
My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloucester,
Follow Fluellen closely at the heels.
The glove which I have given him for a favor
May haply purchase him a box a’ th’ ear.
It is the soldier’s; I by bargain should
Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick.
If that the soldier strike him, as I judge
By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,
Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
For I do know Fluellen valiant
And touch’d with choler, hot as gunpowder,
And quickly will return an injury.
Follow, and see there be no harm between them.
Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.