Enter Grandpree. Grand. Why do you ftay fo long, my Lords of France? Yon Island carrions, desp'rate of their bones, 2 Con. They've faid their prayers, and they stay for death. Dau. Shall we go fend them dinners and fresh suits, And give their fafting Horfes provender, And, after, fight with them? Con. I ftay but for my guard: on, to the field; I will the banner from a trumpet take, And use it for my hafte. Come, come, away! 2 Gimmal is in the western flesh. 3 Their executors, the knavish crows.] The crows who are to have the difpofal of what they fhall leave, their hides and their 4 4 I lay but for my guard] It feems, by what follows, that guard in this place means rather fomething of ornament or of diftinction than a body of attendants. SCENE SCENE VIII. The English CAMP. Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham, with all the Hoft; Salisbury and Weftmorland. HERE is the King? Glou. W Bed. The King himself is rode to view their battle. Weft. Of fighting men they have full threefcore thousand. Exe. There's five to one; befides, they all are fresh. Bed. Farewel, good Salisbury, and good luck go Exe. to Sal. Farewel, kind Lord; fight valiantly to-day: And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour. [Exit Sal. Bed. He is as full of valour, as of kindness; Princely in both. Enter King Henry. Weft. O, that we now had here But one ten thousand of thofe men in England, 5 In the old editions: For thou art fram'd of the firm does he do Salisbury Wrong to with him good Luck? The ingenious Dr. Thirlby prefcrib'd to me the Tranfpofition of the Verses, which I have made in the Text: and the old Quarto's plainly lead to fuch a Regula tion. THEOBALD. K. Henry. K. Henry. What's he, that wishes fo? I am the most offending foul alive. No, faith, my Lord, wifh not a man from England: Then fhall our names, ber their feats of this day, and remember to tell them with advantage. Age is commonly boatful, and inclined to magnify paft acts and past times. g Fa Familiar in their mouth as houfhold words, From this day to the ending of the world, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; Shall think themfelves accurs'd, they were not here; Sal. My fov'reign Lord, bestow yourself with speed: The French are bravely in their battles fet, And will with all expedience charge on us. K. Henry. All things are ready, if our minds be fo. Weft. Perifh the man, whofe mind is backward now! K. Henry. Thou doft not wish more help from England, coufin? Weft. God's will, my Liege. 'Would you and I alone Without more help could fight this royal battle! 6 From this day to the ending.] It may be observed that we are apt to promife to ourfelves a more lafting memory than the changing ftate of human things admits. This prediction is not verified; the feaft of Crifpin paffes by without any mention of Agincourt. Late events obliterate the former: the civil wars have left in this nation fcarcely any tradition of more ancient hiftory. * Gentle his condition.] This day fhall advance him to the rank of a gentleman. + Upon St. Crifpian's day.] This fpeech, like many others of the declamatory kind, is too long. Had it been contracted to about half the number of lines, it might have gained force, and loft none of the fentiments. 7 Bravely is fplendidly, often tatiously. K. Henry. K. Henry. Why, now thou haft unwish'd five thou fand men, ४ Which likes me better than to wifh us one. -You know your places. God be with you all! SCENE IX. A Tucket founds. Enter Mountjoy. Mount. Once more I come to know of thee, King If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf, Thou needs must be englutted. Thus, in mercy, May make a peaceful and a sweet retire From off thefe fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies Muft lie and fefter. K. Henry. Who hath fent thee now? Mount. The Conftable of France. K. Henry. I pray thee, bear my former anfwer back. While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him. 3 Thou hast unwish'd five thouSand men.] By wishing only thyfelf and me, thou haft wifhed five thousand men away. ShakeSpeare never thinks on fuch trifles as numbers. In the laft fcene the French are faid to be full threefcore thoufnd, which Exeter declares to be five to one; but, by the King's account, they are twelve to one. |