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And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding- which I doubt not;

For there is none of you so mean and base

That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:

Follow your spirit; and upon this charge

Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off]

SCENE II. Before Harfleur

Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and BOY

BARDOLPH.

On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!

NYM.

Pray thee, Corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot, and for

mine own part I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too

hot; that is the very plain-song of it.

PISTOL.

The plain-song is most just; for humours do abound:

Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;

And sword and shield

In bloody field

Doth win immortal fame.

BOY.

Would I were in an alehouse in London! I wouid give all my

fame for a pot of ale and safety.

PISTOL.

And I:

If wishes would prevail with me,

My purpose should not fail with me,

But thither would I hie.

BOY.

As duly, but not as truly,

As bird doth sing on bough.

Enter FLUELLEN

FLUELLEN.

Up to the breach, you dogs!

Avaunt, you cullions! [Driving them forward]

PISTOL.

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. Use lenity, sweet chuck.

NYM.

These be good humours. Your honour wins bad humours.

Exeunt all but BOY

BOY.

As young as I am, I have observ'd these three swashers. I am

boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would

serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do

not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and

red-fac'd; by the means whereof '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 Nym,

he hath heard that men of few words are the best men, and

therefore he scorns to say his prayers lest 'a should be thought

a coward; but his few bad words are match'd with as few good

deeds; for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that

was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything,

and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve

leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are

sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a

fire-shovel; I knew by that piece of service the men would carry

coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their

gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my

manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine;

for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and

seek some better service; their villainy goes against my weak

stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. Exit

Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following

GOWER.

Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the

Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.

FLUELLEN.

To the mines! Tell you the Duke it is not so good to come

to the mines; for, look you, the mines is not according to the

disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient.

For, look you, th' athversary- you may discuss unto the Duke,

look you- is digt himself four yard under the countermines; by

Cheshu, 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 Irishman- a very vallant gentleman, i' faith.

FLUELLEN.

It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?

GOWER.

I think it be.

FLUELLEN.

By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will verify

as much in his beard; he has no more directions in the true

disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than

is a puppy-dog.

Enter MACMORRIS and CAPTAIN JAMY

GOWER.

Here