• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.

GOWER.

I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon; his father

was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

FLUELLEN.

I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell

you, Captain, if you look in the maps of the 'orld, I warrant you

sall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that

the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in

Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth; it is

call'd Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the

name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my

fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you

mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come

after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things.

Alexander- God knows, and you know- in his rages, and his furies,

and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his

displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little

intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look

you, kill his best friend, Cleitus.

GOWER.

Our king is not like him in that: he never kill'd any of his friends.

FLUELLEN.

It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out

of my mouth ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the

figures and comparisons of it; as Alexander kill'd his friend

Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth,

being in his right wits and his good judgments, turn'd away the

fat knight with the great belly doublet; he was full of jests,

and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I have forgot his name.

GOWER.

Sir John Falstaff.

FLUELLEN.

That is he. I'll tell you there is good men porn at Monmouth.

GOWER.

Here comes his Majesty.

Alarum. Enter the KING, WARWICK, GLOUCESTER,

EXETER, and others, with prisoners. Flourish

KING HENRY.

I was not angry since I came to France

Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald,

Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill;

If they will fight with us, bid them come down

Or void the field; they do offend our sight.

If they'll do neither, we will come to them

And make them skirr away as swift as stones

Enforced from the old Assyrian slings;

Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,

And not a man of them that we shall take

Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Enter MONTJOY

EXETER.

Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

GLOUCESTER.

His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.

KING HENRY.

How now! What means this, herald? know'st thou not

That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?

Com'st thou again for ransom?

MONTJOY.

No, great King;

I come to thee for charitable licence,

That we may wander o'er this bloody field

To book our dead, and then to bury them;

To sort our nobles from our common men;

For many of our princes- woe the while!-

Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;

So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs

In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds

Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage

Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,

Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great King,

To view the field in safety, and dispose

Of their dead bodies!

KING HENRY.

I tell thee truly, herald,

I know not if the day be ours or no;

For yet a many of your horsemen peer

And gallop o'er the field.

MONTJOY.

The day is yours.

KING HENRY.

Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!

What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?

MONTJOY.

They call it Agincourt.

KING HENRY.

Then call we this the field of Agincourt,

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

FLUELLEN.

Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your

Majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales,

as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here

in France.

KING HENRY.

They did, Fluellen.

FLUELLEN.

Your Majesty says very true; if your Majesties is

rememb'red of it, the Welshmen did good service in garden where

leeks did