Will. Sir, know you this glove?

Flu. Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove. Will, I know this, and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him. Flu. 'Sbud, an arrant traitor as any's in the univerfal orld, in France or in England.

Gow. Hów now, Sir? you villain.

Will. Do you think I'll be forfworn?

Flu. Stand away, captain Gower, I will give treafon his payment into plows, I warrant you.

Will. I am no traitor.

Flu. That's a lie in thy throat. I charge you in his Majefty's name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke of Alanfon's.

Enter Warwick and Gloucefter.

War. How now, how now, what's the matter?

Flu. My Lord of Warwick, here is, praised be Got for it, a most contagious treafon come to light, look you, as you fhall defire in a fummer's day. Here is his Majesty. Enter King Henry and Exeter.

K. Henry. How now, what's the matter?

Flu. My Liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look your Grace, has ftruck the glove which your Majefty is take out of the helmet of Alanfon.

Will. 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 ftrike him if he did; I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my word.

Flu. Your Majefty hear now, faving your Majefty's manhood, what an arrant, rafcally, peggarly, lowfie knave it is; I hope your Majefty is pear me teftimonies, and witneffes, and avouchments, that this is the glove of Alanfon that your Majefty is give me, in your confcience now.

K. Henry. Give me thy glove, foldier; look, here is the fellow of it: 'twas me indeed thou promifed'ft to ftrike, and thou haft given me most bitter terms.

Flu. An please your Majefty, let his neck anfwer for it, if there is any martial law in the orld.

K. Henry. How canft thou make me fatisfaction?
Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart;

never came any from mine that might offend your Majefty. K. Henry. It was our felf thou didst abuse,

Will. Your Majefty came not like your felf; you appear'd to me but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowlinefs; and what your Highness fuffer'd under that shape, I beseech you, take it for your fault and not mine; for had you been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highness, pardon me. K. 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.

Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pody; hold, there is twelve pence for you, and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls and prabbles, and quarrels and diffenfions, and I warrant you it is the petter for you.

Will. I will none of your mony.

Flu. It is with a goot will; I can tell you it will ferve you to mend your fhoes; come, wherefore fhould you be fo pafhful? your fhoes is not fo goot; 'tis a goot filling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

SCENE XVI. Enter Herald.

K. Henry. Are the dead number'd?

Her. Here is the number of the flaughter'd French. K. Henry. What prifoners of good fort are taken, uncle? Exe. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King; John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouchiqualt: Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and 'Squires, Full fifteen hundred, befides common men.

K. Henry. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French Slain in the field; of Princes in this number,

And Nobles bearing banners, there lye dead
One hundred twenty fix; added to these,
Of Knights, Efquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights;

This lift is copied from Hall.

So that in thefe ten thousand they have loft,

There are but fixteen hundred mercenaries:

The reft are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, 'Squires,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.

The names of thofe their Nobles that lye dead,
Charles Delabreth, high Conftable of France;
Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France;

The Mafter of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;

Great Mafter of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dauphin ;
John Duke of Alanfon, Anthony Duke of Brabant
The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;

And Edward Duke of Bar: Of lufty Earls,
Grandpree and Rouffie, Faulconbridge and Foyes,
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Leftrale.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!
Where is the number of our English dead?

Exe. Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Ketley, Davy Gam Efquire;

None else of name; and of all other men,
But five and twenty.

K. Henry. O God, thy arm was here!
And not to us, but to thy arm alone
Afcribe we all! When, without ftratagem,
But in plain fhock and even play of battel,
Was ever known fo great and little lofs
On one part and on th' other? take it, God,
For it is only thine.

Exe. 'Tis wonderful!

K. Henry. Come, go we in proceffion 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.

Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your Majefty, to tell how many is kill'd?

K. Henry. Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment, That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my confcience, he did us great goot.

K. Henry. Do we all holy rites;

Let there be fung Non nobis, and Te Deum
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay.

And

And then to Calais and to England then,

Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men. [Exeunt. Enter Chorus.

Cho. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,
That I may prompt them; and to fuch as have,
I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse

Of time, of numbers, and the course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life

Be here prefented. Now we bear the King
Tow'rd Calais: grant him there; and there being feen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
Athwart the fea: behold the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys,
Whose shouts and claps out-vice the deep-mouth'd fea,
Which like a mighty whiffler 'fore the King
Seems to prepare his way: fo let him land,
And folemnly fee him set on to London.
So fwift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Black-heath:
Where that his Lords defire him to have born
His bruifed helmet and his bended sword
Before him through the city; he forbids it;
Being free from vainnefs and felf-glorious pride:
Giving full trophy, fignal, and oftent,

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 fort,
Like to the fenators of antique Rome,
With the Plebeians fwarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring Cæfar in.
As by a low, 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 fword;

How many would the peaceful city quit,

To welcome him! much more (and much more caufe)
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
Pafs o'er the lamentation of the French

• The Earl of Effex, in the reign of Queen Elizaberk.

In thought, 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 my self have play'd
The int'rim, by remembring you 'tis past.
Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance
After your thoughts, strait back again to France.
ACT V. SCENE I.

The English Camp in France.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

[Exit.

Gow. to-day? St. David's day is paft.

[AY, that's right; but why wear you your leek

Flu. There is occafions and causes why and wherefore in all things; I will tell you as a friend, captain Gower; the rafcally, fcauld, peggarly, lowfie, pragging knave Piftol, which you and your felf and all the orld know to be no petter than a fellow (look you now) of no merits; he is come to me and prings me pread and falt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek; it was in a place where I could preed no contentions with him; but I will be fo pold as to wear it in my cap 'till I fee hir once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my defires.

Enter Piftol.

Gow. Why, here he comes, fwelling like a turky-cock. Flu. 'Tis no matter for his fwelling, nor his turky-cocks. Got pleffe you, Aunchient Piftol: you fcurvy lowfie knave, Got pleffe you!

Pift. Ha! art thou bedlam? doft thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?

Hence, I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu. I pefeech you heartily, fcurvy lowfie knave, at my defires and my requests and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek, because, look you, you do not love it, and your affections and your appetites and your digeftions does not agree with it; I would defire you to eat it.

Pift. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. Flu. There is one goat for you, [Strikes bim.