Alarm. Enter the King and his train, with prisoners. K. Henry. Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen.

But all's not done; the French yet keep the field.
Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your
Majefty.

K. Henry. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within

this hour

I saw him down, thrice up again, and fighting,
From helmet to the fpur all bleeding o'er.

Exe. In which array, brave foldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody fide,
Yoak-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

Suffolk first dy'd, and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him where in gore he lay infteep'd,
And takes him by the beard; kiffes the gafhes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face,

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And cries aloud, tarry, my coufin Suffolk,
"My foul fhall thine keep company to heav'n;
Tarry, fweet foul, for mine, then fly a breast
"As in this glorious and well-foughten field
"We kept together in our chivalry."
Upon thefe words I came, and cheer'd him up;
He fmil'd me in the face, gave me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, fays, "dear my Lord,
"Commend my fervice to my Sovereign."
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kist his lips,
And fo efpous'd to death, with blood he feal'd
A teftament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and fweet manner of it forc'd

Thofe waters from me, which I would have ftop'd;
But I had not fo much of man in me,

But all my mother came into mine eyes,

And gave me up to tears.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. I blame you not;

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

But, hark, what new alarum is this fame?
The French have re-inforc'd their scatter'd men:
Then every foldier kill his prisoners.

'S CEN E XIII.

Alarms continued; after which, Enter Fluellen

and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage! 'tis exprefly against the law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of

Knavery, mark you now, as can be defir'd in your confcience now, is it not?

Gow. -'Tis certain, there's not a boy left alive; and the cowardly rafcals, that ran away from the battle, have done this flaughter. Befides, they have burn'd or carried away all that was in the King's tent; wherefore the King moft worthily has caus'd ev'ry foldier to cut his prifoner's throat. O'tis a gallant King!

Flu. I, he was porn at Monmouth, captain Gower; what call you the town's name, where Alexander the pig, was born?

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, fave the phrafe 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 E porn: I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of the orld, I warrant, that you fall find, in the compa

Entring (and therefore I have faid, Alarms continued ;) for we find by Gower's first Speech, that the Soldiers had already cut their Prisoners throats, which required fome Time to do. The Matter is this. The Baggage, during the Battle, (as K. Henry had no Men to fpare,) was guarded only by Boys and Lacqueys; which fome French Runaways getting notice of, they came down upon the English Camp boys, whom they kill'd, and plunder'd and burn'd the Baggage: in Refentment of which Villany it was, that the King, contrary to his wonted Lenity, order'd all Prifoners Throats to be cut. And

Unhappily the king gives one reafon for his order to kill the prifoners, and Gwer another. The king killed his prifoners becaufe he expected another battle, and he had not men fufficient to guard one army and fight another. Gower declares that the gallant king has worthily ordered the prifoners to be deftroyed, becaufe the luggage was plundered, and the boys were flain.

rifons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the fitua tions, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon, 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 it is all one, 'tis as like as my fingers 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 difpleafures, and his indignations, and alfo being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his best friend Clytus. Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he never kill'd 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 and finish'd. I fpeak but in figures, and comparisons of it. As Alexander kill'd his friend Clytus, being in his ales and his cups; fo alfo 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 jefts and gypes, and knaveries, and mocks; I have forgot his

name.

Gow. Sir John Falfaff.

*

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

Gow. Here comes his Majefty.

Alarm.

Enter King Henry, with Bourbon and other prifoners; Lords and Attendants. Flourish. K. Henry. I was not angry fince I came to France, Until this inftant. Take a trumpet, herald,

*The fat knight.] This is the laft time that Falstaff can make fport. The poet was loath to part

with him, and has continued his memory as long as he could.

Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill.
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field, they do offend our fight;
If they'll do neither, we will come to them;
And make them fker away, as fwift as ftones
Enforced from the old Affyrian flings:

* 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 Mountjoy.

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

Glou. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.
K. Henry. How now, what means their herald?
Know't thou not,

That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?
Com'st thou again for ransom?
Mount. No, great King:

I come to thee for charitable licence

That we may wander o'er this bloody field,
To book our dead, and then to bury them;
To fort our nobles from our common men;
For many of our Princes, woe, the while!
Lie drown'd, and foak'd in mercenary blood;
So do our vulgar drench their peafant limbs
In blood of Princes, while their wounded steeds
Fret fet-lock deep in gore, and with wild rage
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead mafters,

Befides, we'll cut the throats, &c.] The king is in a very bloody difpofition. He has already cut the throats of his prifoners, and threatens now to cut them again. No hafte of compofition could produce fuch negligence; neither was this play, which is the fecond draught of the fame defign, written in hafte. There must be fome diflocation of the fcenes. If we

place thefe lines at the beginning of the twelfth fcene, the abfurdity will be removed, and the action will proceed in a regular feries. This tranfpofition might easily happen in copies written for the players. Yet it must not be concealed, that in the imperfect play of 1608 the order of the fcenes is the fame as here.

Killing