The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

your knowledge to dream of.

WILLIAMS. Sir, know you this glove?

FLUELLEN. Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove.

WILLIAMS. I know this; and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him]

FLUELLEN. ‘Sblood, an arrant traitor as any’s in the universal world, or in France, or in England!

GOWER. How now, sir! you villain!

WILLIAMS. Do you think I’ll be forsworn?

FLUELLEN. Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give treason his payment into plows, I warrant you.

WILLIAMS. I am no traitor.

FLUELLEN. That’s a lie in thy throat. I charge you in his Majesty’s name, apprehend him: he’s a friend of the Duke Alencon’s.

 

Enter WARWICK and GLOUCESTER

 

WARWICK. How now! how now! what’s the matter?

FLUELLEN. My Lord of Warwick, here ispraised be God for it!- a most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a summer’s day. Here is his Majesty.

 

Enter the KING and EXETER

 

KING HENRY. How now! what’s the matter?

FLUELLEN. My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look your Grace, has struck the glove which your Majesty is take out of the helmet of Alencon.

WILLIAMS. My liege, this was my glove: here is the fellow of it; and he that I gave it to in change promis’d to wear it in his cap; I promis’d to strike him if he did; I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my word.

FLUELLEN. Your Majesty hear now, saving your Majesty’s manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lousy knave it is; I hope your Majesty is pear me testimony and witness, and will avouchment, that this is the glove of Alencon that your Majesty is give me; in your conscience, now.

KING HENRY. Give me thy glove, soldier; look, here is the fellow of it.

‘Twas I, indeed, thou promised’st to strike, And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

FLUELLEN. An please your Majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the world.

KING HENRY. How canst thou make me satisfaction?

WILLIAMS. All offences, my lord, come from the heart; never came any from mine that might offend your Majesty.

KING HENRY. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

WILLIAMS. Your Majesty came not like yourself: you appear’d to me but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what your Highness suffer’d under that shape I beseech you take it for your own fault, and not mine; for had you been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech your Highness pardon me.

KING HENRY. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns, And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow; And wear it for an honour in thy cap

Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns; And, Captain, you must needs be friends with him.

FLUELLEN. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his belly: hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you to serve God, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.

WILLIAMS. I will none of your money.

FLUELLEN. It is with a good will; I can tell you it will serve you to mend your shoes. Come, wherefore should you be so pashful?

Your shoes is not so good. ‘Tis a good silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

 

Enter an ENGLISH HERALD

 

KING HENRY. Now, herald, are the dead numb’red?

HERALD. Here is the number of the slaught’red French.

[Gives a paper]

KING HENRY. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

EXETER. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King; John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt; Of other lords and barons, knights and squires, Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

KING HENRY. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French That in the field lie slain; of princes in this number, And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead One hundred twenty-six; added to these, Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen, Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which Five hundred were but yesterday dubb’d knights.

So that, in these ten thousand they have lost, There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries; The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires, And gentlemen of blood and quality.

The names of those their nobles that lie dead: Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France; Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France; The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures; Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin; John Duke of Alencon; Antony Duke of Brabant, The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;

And Edward Duke of Bar. Of lusty earls, Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconbridge and Foix, Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrake.

Here was a royal fellowship of death!

Where is the number of our English dead?

[HERALD presents another paper]

Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Kikely, Davy Gam, Esquire; None else of name; and of all other men But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here!

And not to us, but to thy arm alone,

Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem, But in plain shock and even play of battle, Was ever known so great and little los On one part and on th’ other? Take it, God, For it is none but thine.

EXETER. ‘Tis wonderful!

KING HENRY. Come, go we in procession to the village; And be it death proclaimed through our host To boast of this or take that praise from God Which is his only.

FLUELLEN. Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how many is kill’d?

KING HENRY. Yes, Captain; but with this acknowledgment, That God fought for us.

FLUELLEN. Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

KING HENRY. Do we all holy rites:

Let there be sung ‘Non nobis’ and ‘Te Deum’; The dead with charity enclos’d in clay-And then to Calais; and to England then; Where ne’er from France arriv’d more happy men. Exeunt

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ACT V. PROLOGUE.

 

Enter CHORUS

 

CHORUS. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story That I may prompt them; and of such as have, I humbly pray them to admit th’ excuse Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, Which cannot in their huge and proper life Be here presented. Now we bear the King Toward Calais. Grant him there. There seen, Heave him away upon your winged thoughts Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and boys, Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth’d sea, Which, like a mighty whiffler, fore the King Seems to prepare his way. So let him land, And solemnly see him set on to London.

So swift a pace hath thought that even now You may imagine him upon Blackheath;

Where that his lords desire him to have borne His bruised helmet and his bended sword Before him through the city. He forbids it, Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride; Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent, Quite from himself to God. But now behold In the quick forge and working-house of thought, How London doth pour out her citizens!

The mayor and all his brethren in best sort-Like to the senators of th’ antique Rome, With the plebeians swarming at their heels-Go forth and fetch their conqu’ring Caesar in; As, by a lower but loving likelihood, Were now the General of our gracious Empress-As in good time he may-from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit To welcome him! Much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry. Now in London place himAs yet the lamentation of the French

Invites the King of England’s stay at home; The Emperor’s coming in behalf of France To order peace between them; and omit All the occurrences, whatever chanc’d, Till Harry’s back-return again to France.

There must we bring him; and myself have play’d The interim, by rememb’ring you ‘tis past.

Then brook abridgment; and your eyes advance, After your thoughts, straight back again to France. Exit

SCENE I.

France. The English camp

 

Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER

 

GOWER. Nay, that’s right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy’s day is past.

FLUELLEN. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things. I will tell you, ass my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol-which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits-he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek; it was in a place where I could not breed no contendon with him; but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

 

Enter PISTOL

 

GOWER. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.

FLUELLEN. ‘Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.

God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!

PISTOL. Ha! art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base Troyan, To have me fold up Parca’s fatal web?

Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

FLUELLEN. I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.

PISTOL. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

FLUELLEN. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him] Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?

PISTOL. Base Troyan, thou shalt die.

FLUELLEN. You say very true, scald knave-when God’s will is. I will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals; come, there is sauce for it. [Striking him again] You call’d me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

GOWER. Enough, Captain, you have astonish’d him.

FLUELLEN. I say I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you, it is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

PISTOL. Must I bite?

FLUELLEN. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of question too, and ambiguides.

PISTOL. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge-I eat and eat, I swear-FLUELLEN. Eat, I pray you; will you have some more sauce to your leek? There is not enough leek to swear by.

PISTOL. Quiet thy cudgel: thou dost see I eat.

FLUELLEN. Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at ‘em; that is all.

PISTOL. Good.

FLUELLEN. Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

PISTOL. Me a groat!

FLUELLEN. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket which you shall