Henry V, Act 4, Scene 3, 18-67
Arden 3 | T.W. Craik | London: Bloomsbury, 1995 | 287-291
“What’s he that wishes so? My cousin, Westmoreland?”
Scene
Arden 3
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Words and Pronunciation +
Arden 3 | 2012
Words
cousin
fair
marked
enow
God’s will
Jove
feed
cost
earns
faith
coz
God’s peace
share
hope
host
stomach
passport
crowns
convoy
purse
fears
fellowship
Crispian
stand a-tiptoe
rouse
vigil
feast
strip
Crispin
advantages
Harry
Bedford
Exeter
Warwick
Talbot
Salisbury
Gloucester
flowing
ne’er
vile
gentle
condition
manhoods
Pronunciation +
remembered: (lines…) rememberèd
Translation
No Fear Shakespeare
HENRY V
Who wishes that? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my dear cousin. If we are slated to die, the fewer, the better for our country, and if we’re slated to live, the fewer men, the greater the share of honor for each of us. In God’s name, I beg you not to wish for one more man. By God, I am not selfish when it comes to money: I don’t care who eats at my expense. It doesn’t bother me when people borrow my clothing—I don’t care about these concrete things. But if it is a sin to be selfish about honor, I am the most guilty soul alive. No, my cousin, don’t wish that even one man who is now in England were here instead. By God, I wouldn’t lose as much honor as a single man more would cost me, I think—not even if it meant giving up my best hope for victory. Oh, do not wish one more! Instead, make this known throughout the army: whoever has no spirit for this fight, let him depart. He will be given safe conduct and money for his passage home. We would not want to die in the company of a man who fears to die with us. This day is called the Feast of Saint Crispian: he who lives to see this day out and comes home safe will stand tall when this day is named and raise himself up at the mention of Crispian. He who survives this day and lives to see old age shall yearly entertain his neighbors on the eve, saying, “Tomorrow is Saint Crispin’s Day .” He’ll roll up his sleeve and show his scars, saying, “I got these wounds on St. Crispin’s Day.” Old men forget. But these men will remember every detail of what they did today long after they’ve forgotten everything else. And as the wine flows, our names, familiar as household words, will be invoked again: Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester. Good men will tell their sons this story and the Feast of St. Crispin will never go by, from this day to the end of time, without our being remembered: we few, we happy few, we band of brothers—for whoever sheds his blood with me today shall be my brother. However humble his birth, this day shall grant him nobility. And men back in English now safe in their beds will curse themselves for not having been here, and think less of their own manhood when they listen to the stories of those who fought with us here on St. Crispin’s Day.
Assonance
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Alliteration
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Consonance
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Thoughts
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-1. What’s he that wishes so?
2. My cousin Westmorland? 3. No, my fair cousin:
b. If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
4. God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
5. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
b. Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
c. It earns me not if men my garments wear:
d. Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
6. But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
7. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
8. God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. 9. O do not wish one more!
10. Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; b. his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
11. We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
12. This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
13. He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
14. He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
15. Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
16. Old men forget; b. yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. 17. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
18. This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
19. For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; b. be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
20. And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
THOUGHTS
Long: 2
Medium: 12
Short: 6
Complex: 3 | 4, 2, 2
End stopped: 17
Midline: 3
Period: 17
Exclamation: 1
Question: 2
Dash: 0
Total: 20
Rhythm
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so? 6
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin: 11W
If we are marked to die, we are enough 10R 20
To do our country loss, and if to live, 10R
The fewer men, the greater share of honour. 11W
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more. 10R
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, 10R
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 10R 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear: 10R
Such outward things dwell not in my desires. 10R
But if it be a sin to covet honour 11W
I am the most offending soul alive. 10R
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 11W 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour 11W
As one man more, methinks, would share from me, 10R
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more! 12
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host, 11
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 10R 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made 10R
And crowns for convoy put into his purse. 10R
We would not die in that man’s company 10R
That fears his fellowship to die with us. 10R
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 10R 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home 10|10R
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named 10R
And rouse him at the name of Crispian. 10R
He that shall see this day and live old age 10
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 11W 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’ 10R
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, 10R
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’ 10R
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot 10R
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 10R 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, 10
Familiar in his mouth as household words, 10R
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, 10
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, 11W
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememberèd. 11W|12 55
This story shall the good man teach his son, 10R
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by 10R
From this day to the ending of the world 10R
But we in it shall be rememberèd, 10R
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 11W 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me 10R
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, 10R
This day shall gentle his condition. 10R
And gentlemen in England now abed 10R
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 10R 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks 10R
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day. 10R
Pacing
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so? PAUSE?
My cousin Westmorland? <c> No, <c> my fair cousin: pause?
If we are marked to die, <c> we are enough 20
To do our country loss, <c> and if to live,
The fewer men, <c> the greater share of honour. PAUSE?
God’s will, <c> I pray thee wish not one man more. PAUSE?
By Jove, <c> I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth <c> feed upon my cost; pause 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear: pause?
Such outward things dwell not in my desires. PAUSE?
But if it be a sin <c> to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive. PAUSE?
No, <c> faith, <c> my coz, <c> wish not a man from England. PAUSE? 30
God’s peace, <c> I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, <c> methinks, <c> would share from me,
For the best hope I have. <c> O do not wish one more! PAUSE?
Rather proclaim it, <c> Westmorland, <c> through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; <c> his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse. PAUSE?
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us. PAUSE?
This day <c> is called <c> the feast of Crispian. PAUSE? 40
He that outlives this day <c> and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe <c> when this day is named
And rouse him <c> at the name of Crispian. PAUSE?
He that shall see this day <c> and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil <c> feast his neighbours, 45
And say <c> ‘Tomorrow <c> is Saint Crispian.’ PAUSE?
Then will he strip his sleeve <c> and show his scars,
And say <c> ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’ PAUSE?
Old men forget; <c> yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, <c> with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. <c> Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, <c> Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, <c> Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. PAUSE? 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it <c> shall be remembered,
We few, <c> we happy few, <c> we band of brothers. PAUSE? 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; <c> be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition. PAUSE?
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap <c> whiles any speaks
That fought with us <c> upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Beats
Arden 3 | 2012
HENRY V
——————-What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough 20
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 25
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. 30
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, 35
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian. 40
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, 45
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages, 50
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. 55
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. 60
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, 65
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Scene
Arden 3 | 2012
[4.3]
Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his host, Salisbury and Westmorland .
GLOUCESTER
Where is the King?
BEDFORD
The King himself is rode to view their battle.
WESTMORLAND
Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.
286
EXETER
There’s five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
SALISBURY
God’s arm strike with us! ’Tis a fearful odds.
God bye you, princes all; I’ll to my charge.
If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
Then joyfully, my noble lord of Bedford,
My dear lord Gloucester, and my good lord Exeter,
And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu.
BEDFORD
Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee.
EXETER
Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today.
And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.
[ Exit Salisbury. ]
287
BEDFORD
He is as full of valour as of kindness,
Princely in both.
Enter the King.
WESTMORLAND
O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work today!
KING
What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough
288
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It earns me not if men my garments wear:
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz , wish not a man from England.
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more!
289
Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
290
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
291
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered ,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile ,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Enter Salisbury.
SALISBURY
My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed.
292
The French are bravely in their battles set
And will with all expedience charge on us.
KING
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
WESTMORLAND
Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
KING
Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?
WESTMORLAND
God’s will, my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
KING
Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men,
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
You know your places. God be with you all!
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
MONTJOY
Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow:
293
For certainly thou art so near the gulf
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The Constable desires thee thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance, that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields where, wretches, their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.
KING
Who hath sent thee now?
MONTJOY
The Constable of France.
KING
I pray thee bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man that once did sell the lion’s skin
While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt
Find native graves, upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day’s work.
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed, for there the sun shall greet them,
And draw their honours reeking up to heaven,
294
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valour in our English,
That being dead, like to the bullets crazing ,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.
Let me speak proudly. Tell the Constable
We are but warriors for the working-day;
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched
With rainy marching in the painful field.
There’s not a piece of feather in our host
(Good argument, I hope, we will not fly),
295
And time hath worn us into slovenry.
But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim,
And my poor soldiers tell me yet ere night
They’ll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new coats o’er the French soldiers’ heads
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
As, if God please, they shall, my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints,
Which if they have as I will leave ’em them
Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.
MONTJOY
I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
Exit.
KING
I fear thou wilt once more come again for a ransom.
Enter York .
YORK
My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward .
KING
Take it, brave York. – Now, soldiers, march away,
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!
Exeunt.