_Pist._ Why, then, rejoice therefore.

_Flu._ Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at: for if, look you, he were my prother, I would desire the duke to use his goot pleasure, and put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be used.

_Pist._ _Fico_ for thy friendship![10]

_Flu._ It is well.

_Pist._ The fig of Spain![11]

[_Exit PISTOL, R.H._

_Flu._ Very goot.

_Gow._ Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; a cut-purse; I remember him now.

_Flu._ I'll a.s.sure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at the pridge as you shall see in a summer's day.

_Gow._ Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself, at his return into London, under the form of a soldier. You must learn to know such slanders of the age,[12] or else you may be marvellously mistook.

_Flu._ I tell you what, Captain Gower;--I do perceive, he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the 'orld he is: if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. [_March heard._] Hark you, the king is coming; and I must speak with him from the pridge.[13]

_Enter KING HENRY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, WESTMORELAND, Lords, and Soldiers, L.H.U.E._

_Flu._ (R.) Heaven pless your majesty!

_K. Hen._ (C.) How now, Fluellen! cam'st thou from the bridge?

_Flu._ Ay, so please your majesty. The duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintained the pridge: the French has gone off, look you; and there is gallant and most prave pa.s.sages: Marry, th'athversary was have possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to retire, and the duke of Exeter is master of the pridge: I can tell your majesty, the duke is a prave man.

_K. Hen._ What men have you lost, Fluellen?

_Flu._ The perdition of th'athversary hath been very great, very reasonable great: marry, for my part, I think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your majesty knows the man: his face is all bubukles,[14]

and whelks,[15] and k.n.o.bs, and flames of fire: and his lips plows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue, and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.[16]

_K. Hen._ We would have all such offenders so cut off.

[_Trumpet sounds without, R._

_Enter MONTJOY and Attendants, R.H._

_Mont._ (_uncovers and kneels._) You know me by my habit.[17]

_K. Hen._ Well, then, I know thee: What shall I know of thee?

_Mont._ My master's mind.

_K. Hen._ Unfold it.

_Mont._ Thus says my king:--Say thou to Harry of England: Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep. Tell him, he shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our sufferance.[18] Bid him, therefore, consider of his ransom; which must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested. For our losses, his exchequer is too poor; for the effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person, kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add--defiance: and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is p.r.o.nounced. So far my king and master; so much my office.

_K. Hen._What is thy name? I know thy quality.

_Mont._ Montjoy.

_K. Hen._ Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back, And tell thy king,--I do not seek him now; But could be willing to march on to Calais Without impeachment:[19] for, to say the sooth (Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much Unto an enemy of craft and vantage), My people are with sickness much enfeebled; My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have, Almost no better than so many French; Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald, I thought, upon one pair of English legs, Did march three Frenchmen.--Forgive me, Heaven, That I do brag thus!--this your air of France Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.

Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am; My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk; My army but a weak and sickly guard: Yet, Heaven before,[20] tell him we will come on, Though France himself,[21] and such another neighbour, Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.

Go, bid thy master well advise himself: If we may pa.s.s, we will; if we be hinder'd, We shall your tawny ground with your red blood Discolour:(C) and so, Montjoy, fare you well.

The sum of all our answer is but this: We would not seek a battle, as we are; Nor, as we are, we say, we will not shun it: So tell your master.

_Mont._ I shall deliver so.

(_MONTJOY rises from his knee._)

Thanks to your highness.

[_Exit MONTJOY with Attendants, R.H._

_Glo._ I hope they will not come upon us now.

_K. Hen._ We are in Heaven's hand, brother, not in theirs.

March to the bridge; it now draws toward night: Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves; And on to-morrow bid them march away.

[_Exeunt, R.H._

_March._

[Footnote III.4: _And, for achievement, offer up his ransom._]

i.e., instead of fighting, he will offer to pay ransom.]

[Footnote III.5: _----ancient Pistol._] Ancient, a standard or flag; also the ensign bearer, or officer, now called an ensign.]

[Footnote III.6: _Of buxom valour,_] i.e., valour under good command, obedient to its superiors. The word is used by Spencer.]

[Footnote III.7: _----upon the rolling restless stone,--_] Fortune is described by several ancient authors in the same words.]

[Footnote III.8: _----with a m.u.f.fler before her eyes,_] A m.u.f.fler was a sort of veil, or wrapper, worn by ladies in Shakespeare's time, chiefly covering the chin and throat.]

[Footnote III.9: _For he hath stolen a pix,_] A _pix_, or little chest (from the Latin _pixis_, a box), in which the consecrated _host_ was used to be kept.]

[Footnote III.10: _Fico for thy friendship!_] Fico is fig--it was a term of reproach.]

[Footnote III.11: _The fig of Spain!_] An expression of contempt or insult, which consisted in thrusting the thumb between two of the closed fingers, or into the mouth; whence _Bite the thumb_.

The custom is generally regarded as being originally Spanish.

--NARES.]

[Footnote III.12: _----such slanders of the age,_] Cowardly braggarts were not uncommon characters with the old dramatic writers.]