To founds confus'd; behold the threaden Sails,
Born with th'invifible and creeping Wind,
Draw the huge bottoms thro' the furrow'd Sea,
Breafting the lofty Surge. O, do but think
You ftand upon the Rivage, and behold
A City on th'inconftant Billows dancing;
For fo appears this Fleet Majeftical,

Holding due courfe to Harfleur. Follow, follow.
Grapple your Minds to fternage of this Navy.
And leave your England as dead Midnight, ftill,
Guarded with Grandfires, Babies and old Women,
Either paft, or not arriv'd to pith and puiffance:
For who is he, whofe Chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing Hair, that will not follow
Thefe cull'd and choice drawn Cavaliers to France?
Work, work your Thoughts, and therein see a Siege:
Behold the Ordnance on their Carriages,
With fatal Mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose th'Ambaffador from the French comes back,
Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him
Katherine his Daughter, and with her to Dowry
Some petty and unprofitable Dukedoms.

The Offer likes not; and the nimble Gunner
With Lynftock now the Devilish Cannon touches.

[Alarm, and Chambers go off. And down goes all before him. Still be kind, And ech out our performance with your Mind.

[Exit.

Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester, with Scaling-Ladders as before Harfleur.

K. Henry. Once more unto the Breach,

Dear Friends, once more;

Or close the Wall up with our English dead:
In Peace there's nothing fo becomes a Man
As modeft ftillness and humility:

But when the blast of War blows in our Ears,
Then imitate the Actions of the Tyger;
Stiffen the Sinews, fummon up the Blood,
Disguise fair Nature with hard-favour'd Rage;
Then lend the Eye a terrible afpect;

Let it pry through the Portage of the Head,

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Like the Brafs Cannon, let the Brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully as doth a galled Rock

O'er-hang and jutty his confounded Base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful Ocean.
Now fet the Teeth, and ftretch the Noftril wide,
Hold hard the Breath, and bend up every Spirit
To his full height. On, you nobleft English,
Whose Blood is fet from Fathers of War-proof;
Fathers, that like fo many Alexanders,

Have in these parts from Morn 'till Even fought,
And sheath'd their Swords for lack of Argument;
Dishonour not your Mothers; now atteft,

That those whom you call'd Fathers did beget you.
Be Copy now to Men of groffer Blood,

And teach them how to War; and you, good Yeomen,
Whofe Limbs were made in England, fhew us here
The mettle of your Pafture: Let us fwear,

That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not;
For there is none of you fo mean and base,
That hath not noble luftre in your Eyes.

I fee you ftand like Greyhounds in the flips,
Straining upon the Start. The Game's a-foot:
Follow your Spirit; and upon this Charge,
Cry, God for Harry, England, and St. George.

[Alarm and Chambers go off. Enter Nim, Bardolph, Piftol, and Boy. Bard. On, on, on, on, on, to the Breach, to the Breach. Him. 'Pray thee, Corporal, ftay, the Knocks are too hot; and for mine own part, I have not a Cafe of Lives, the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain Song of it. Pift. The plain Song is moft juft; for humours do abound: Knocks go and come: God's Vaffals drop and dye; and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth win immortal Fame. Boy. Wou'd I were in an Ale-house in London, I would give all my Fame for a Pot of Ale, and Safety.

Pift. And I; if wishes would prevail with me, my purpofe fhould not fail with me; but thether would I hye. Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth fing on bough.

Enter

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Up to the breach you Dogs; avant, you

Cullions.

Pift. Be merciful, great Duke, to Men of Mould, abate thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage, abate thy Rage, great Duke. Good Bawcock, bate thy Rage, ufe lenity, sweet Chuck.

Nim. These be good humours; your Honour wins bed humours. [Exeunt Boy. As young as I am, I have obferv'd these three Swashers. I am Boy to them all three, but all they three, though they would ferve me, could not be Man to me; for indeed three fuch Antiques do not amount to a Man; for Bardolph, he is white-liver'd, and red-fac'd; by the means whreof, a faces it out, but fights not; for Pistol, he hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the means whereof, a breaks Words, and keeps whole Weapons; for Nim, he hath heard, that Men of few Words are the beft Men, and therefore he fcorns to fay his Prayers, left a fhould be thought a Coward; but his few bad words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for a never broke any Man's head but his own, and that was against a Poft, when he was drunk. They will fleal any thing, and call it Purchafe. Bardolph ftole a Lute-cafe, bore it twelve Leagues, and fold it for three half-pence. Nim and Bardolph are fworn Brothers in filching; and in Calice they ftole a firefhovel. I knew,by that piece of Service, the Men would carry Coals. They would have me as familiar with Mens Pockets, as their Gloves or their Hand kerchers; which makes much against my Manhood, if I would take from another's Pocket, to put into mine; for it is plain pocketting up of Wrongs. I must leave them, and feek fome better Service; their Villany goes against my weak Stomach, and ́ therefore I must cast it [Exit Boy.

up.

Enter Gower.

Gower. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the Mines; the Duke of Gloucester would fpeak with you. Flu. To the Mines? Tell you the Duke, it is not fo good to come to the Mines; for look you, the Mines are not according to the Difciplines of the War; the Concavites of it is not lufficient; for look you, th' athverfary, you may

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discuss unto the Duke, look you, is digt himself four yards under the Countermines; by Chefhu, I think a will plow up all, if there is not better directions.

Gower. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the Order of the Siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irish man, a very valiant Gentleman, I'faith.

Flu. It is Captain Mackmorrice, is it not?

Gower. I think it be.

Flu. By Chefhu he is an Afs, as is in the World, I will verifie as much, in his Beard; he has no more directions in the true difciplines of the Wars, look you, of the Roman difciplines, than is a Puppy-dog.

Enter Mackmorrice, and Captain Jamy.

Gower. Here a comes, and the Scots Captain, Captain Jamy, with him.

Flu. Captain Jamy is a marvellous valorous Gentleman, that is certain, and of great expedition and knowledge in the auncient Wars, upon my paricular knowledge of his directions; by Chefhu he will maintain his Argument as well as any Military Man in the World, in the Difeiplines of the priftine Wars of the Romans.

Jamy. I fay gudday, Captain Fluellen.

Flu. Godden to your Worfhip, good Captain James. Gower. How now, Captain Mackmorrice, have you quit the Mines? have the Pioneers given o'er?

Mack. By Chrifh, Law, tifh ill done; the Work ifh give over, the Trumpet found the Retreat. By my hand I fwear, and by my Father's Soul, the Work ifh ill done; it ith give over; I would have blowed up the Town, fo Chrith fave me, law, in an hour. O tifh ill done, tifh ill done; by my Hand tish ill done.

Flu. Captain Mackmorrice, I beseech you now, will you vouchsafe me, look you, a few difputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the difciplines of the War, the Roman Wars, in the way of Argument, lock you, and friendly communication; partly to fatisfy my Opinion, and partly for the fatisfaction, look you, of my Mind, as touching the direction of the Military Difcipline, that is the

Point.

Famy.

Fam. It fall be very gud, gud feith, gud Captens bath, and I fall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occafion; that fall 1 marry.

Mack. It is no time to discourse, fo Chrish fave me: The Day is hot, and the Weather, and the Wars, and the King, and the Duke; it is not time to difcourfe, the Town is befeech'd; and the Trumpet calls us to the Breach, and we talk, and by Chrifh do nothing, 'tis fhame for us all; fo God fa' me 'tis fhame to ftand ftill, it is fhame by my hand; and there is Throats to be cut, and Works to be done, and there ish nothing done, fo Chrish fa' me law.

Famy. By the Mes, ere theife eyes of mine take themfelves to flomber, ayle de gud fervice, or Ile ligge i'th' ground for it; ay, or go to death; and Ile pay't as valorou fly as I may, that fal I furely do, the breff and the long; marry, 1 wad full fain heard fome question 'tween you tway. Flu. Captain Mackmorrice, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your Nation.

Mack. Of my Nation? what ifh my Nation? Ifh a Villain, and a Baftard, and a Knave, and a Rafcal? What ish my Nation? Who talks of my Nation?

Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwife than is meant, Captain Mackmorrice, peradventure I fhall think you do not use me with that affability, as in difcretion you ought to ufe me, look you, being as good a Man as your felf both in the disciplines of Wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

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Mack. I do not know you fo good a Man as my felf, *. fo Chrifh fave me, I will cut off your head.

Gower. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. Jamy. A, that's a foul fault. [A Parley founded Gower. The Town founds a Parley.

Flu. Captain Mackmorrice, when there is more better opportunity to be requir'd, look you, I will be fo bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of War, and there is an end.

[Exeunt. Enter King Henry, and his Train before the Gates. K. Henry. How yet refolves the Governor of the Town? This is the latest Parle we will admit:

Therefore to our beft mercy give your felves,

Or like to Men proud of deftruction,

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