SCENE VIII.-Before KING HENRY's Pavilion.

Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS.
Will. I warrant it is to knight you, captain.
Enter FLUELlen.

Flu. Got's will and his pleasure, captain, I peseech you now come apace to the King. There is more goot toward you, peradventure, than is in your knowledge to dream of.

Will. Sir, know you this glove?

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

HENRY VIZE TELLY SC

Enter WARWICK and GLOSTER. War. How now, how now! what's the matter? Flu. My lord of Warwick, here is (praised be Got for it!) a most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a summer's day. Here is his majesty.

Will. I know this; and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him. Flu. 'S blood, an arrant traitor as any's in the universal 'orld, or in France, or in England. Gow. How now, sir; you villain! Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn? Flu. Stand away, Captain Gower: I will give treason 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 majesty's name, apprehend him: he is a friend of Duke Alençon's.

Enter KING HENRY and EXETER. K. Hen. How now! what's the matter? Flu. 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 Alençon.

Will. My liege, this was my glove; here is the fellow of it: and he that I gave it to in change, promised to wear it in his cap: I promised 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.

Flu. 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 avouchments, that this is the glove of Alençon, that your majesty is give me; in your conscience, now.

K. Hen. 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.

Flu. An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the 'orld. K. Hen. How canst thou make me satisfaction? Will. All offences, my liege, come from the heart: never came any from mine that might offend your majesty.

K. Hen. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will. Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to me but as a common man: witness the night, your garments, your lowliness. And what your highness suffered 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.

K. Hen. Here, uncle of 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 pelly.-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 dissensions; and I warrant you it is the petter for you.

Will. I will none of your money.

Flu. It is with a goot 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 goot: 't is a goot silling I warrant you, or I will change it.

Enter an English Herald.

K. Hen. Now, herald; are the dead numbered? Her. Here is the number of the slaughtered French. [Delivers a paper. K. Hen. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

Exe. 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.

K. Hen. 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 dubbed 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 Delabret, 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 Guischard
Dauphin;

John, Duke of Alençon; Antony, Duke of
Brabant,

The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;
And Edward, Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
Grandpré and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,
Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.
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 Ketly, 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 loss,
On one part and on th' other?-Take it, God,
For it is only thine!
Exe.

'Tis wonderful!

K. Hen. 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.

Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell how many is killed?

K. Hen. Yes, captain: but with this acknowledgment, That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did us great goot. K. Hen. Do we all holy rites: Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum. The dead with charity enclosed in clay, We'll then to Calais: and to England then; Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men. [Exeunt.

Cho. 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 the 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 wingéd thoughts
Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and boys,
Whose shouts and claps outvoice the deep-mouthed

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 bruiséd helmet and his bendéd 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 the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels),
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Cæsar in.
As, by a lower but by loving likelihood,
Were now the general of our gracious empress
(As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broachéd 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 him
(As 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 chanced,
Till Harry's back-return again to France:
There must we bring him and myself have
played

The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.
Then brook abridgment; and your eyes advance,
After your thoughts, straight back again to France,

[Exit.

SCENE I.-France. An English Court of Guard.

Enter FLUELLEN and GoWER.

Gow. Nay, that's right: but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint Davy's day is past.

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore, in all things. I will tell you as my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol (which you and yourself 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 salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek. It was in a place where I could not breed no contentions with him: but I will be so pold 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.

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

Flu. "Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.-Got pless you, Ancient Pistol: you scurvy, lousy knave, Got pless you!

Pist. Ha! art thou Bedlam? Dost thou thirst,

base Trojan,

To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu. 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.

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. Flu. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.] Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it? Pist. Base Trojan, thou shalt die. Flu. You say very true, scald knave, when Got'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 called 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.

Gow. Enough, captain: you have astonished him.

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

Pist. Must I bite?

Flu. Yes, certainly; and out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities.

Pist. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge! I eat, and eke I swear

Flu. Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist. Quiet thy cudgel: thou dost see I eat. Flu. Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray you, throw none away: the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at them that is all.

Pist. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is goot. Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist. Me a groat!

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

Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge. Flu. If I owe you anything, I will pay you in cudgels you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God be wi' you and keep you, and heal your pate. [Exit.

Pist. All hell shall stir for this! Gow. Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition (begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour), and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel. you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welch correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye well. [Exit.

Pist. Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?

News have I that my Nell is dead i' the spital,
Of malady of France;

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd will I turn,
And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal :
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. [Exit.

SCENE. II.-Troyes in Champagne. An Apart

ment in the FRENCH KING's Palace.

Enter at one door, KING HENRY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORLAND, and other Lords: at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the PRINCESS KATHARINE, Lords, Ladies, &c.; the DUKE of BURGUNDY and his Train.

K. Hen. Peace to this meeting; wherefore we are met!

Unto our brother France, and to our sister, Health and fair time of day. Joy and good wishes

To our most fair and princely cousin Katharine:
And (as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great assembly is contrived),
We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy:
And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!

Fr. King. Rightjoyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England; fairly met;
So are you, princes English, every one.

Q. Isa. So happy be the issue, brother England, Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting, As we are now glad to behold your eyes: Your eyes, which hitherto have borne in them, Against the French that met them in their bent, The fatal balls of murdering basilisks. The venom of such looks, we fairly hope, Have lost their quality; and that this day Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love. K. Hen. To cry amen to that, thus we appear. Q. Isa. You English princes all, I do salute you. Bur. My duty to you both, on equal love, Great Kings of France and England. That I have laboured