Part 4
_Chor._ Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies, In motion of no less celerity Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen The well-appointed king[1] at Hampton pier Embark his royalty;[2] and his brave fleet With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: Play with your fancies; and in them behold Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think You stand upon the rivage,[3] and behold A city on the inconstant billows dancing; For so appears this fleet majestical, Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow! Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy;[4] And leave your England, as dead midnight still, Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women, Either past, or not arriv'd to, pith and puissance; For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd With one appearing hair, that will not follow These 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 the ambassador from the French comes back; Tells Harry--that the king doth offer him Katharine his daughter; and with her, to dowry, Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner With linstock[5] now the devilish cannon touches,
[_Alarums, and cannon shot off._
And down goes all before them. Still be kind, And eke out our performance with your mind.
[_Exit._
[Footnote IIIc.1: _The well-appointed king_] i.e., well furnished with all the necessaries of war.]
[Footnote IIIc.2: _Embark his royalty;_] The place where Henry's army was encamped, at Southampton, is now entirely covered with the sea, and called Westport.]
[Footnote IIIc.3: _----rivage,_] The _bank_ or shore.]
[Footnote IIIc.4: _----to +sternage+ of this navy;_] The stern being the hinder part of the ship, the meaning is, let your minds follow close after the navy. _Stern_, however, appears to have been anciently synonymous to _rudder_.]
## Scene Changes to
THE SIEGE OF HARFLEUR.
THE WALLS ARE MANNED BY THE FRENCH.
The English Are Repulsed from an Attack on the Breach.
_Alarums. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, and Soldiers, R.H._
_K. Hen._ Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead![6] In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger! On, on, you noble English, Whose blood is fet[7] from fathers of war-proof! 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,[8] Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge, Cry--God for Harry! England! and Saint George!
[_The English charge upon the breach, headed by the KING. Alarums. The GOVERNOR of the Town appears on the walls with a flag of truce._
_K. Hen._ How yet resolves the governour of the town? This is the latest parle we will admit: Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves; Or, like to men proud of destruction, Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier (A name that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,) If I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur Till in her ashes she lie buried. The gates of mercy shall be all shut up. What say you? will you yield, and this avoid? Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
_Gov._ Our expectation hath this day an end: The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated,[9] Returns us--that his powers are not yet ready To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king, We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. Enter our town; dispose of us and ours; For we no longer are defensible.
[_Soldiers shout._
[_The GOVERNOR and others come from the town, and kneeling, present to KING HENRY the keys of the city._
_K. Hen._ Come, uncle Exeter, R. Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,-- The winter coming on, and sickness growing Upon our soldiers,--we'll retire to Calais. To-night in Harfleur[*] will we be your guest; To-morrow for the march are we addrest.[10]
[_March. English army enter the town through the breach._
[Footnote *: Extracts from the Account of the Siege of Harfleur, selected from the pages of the anonymous Chronicler who was an eyewitness of the event.
"Our King, who sought peace, not war, in order that he might further arm the cause in which he was engaged with the shield of justice offered peace to the besieged, if they would open the gates to him, and restore, as was their duty, freely, without compulsion, that town, the noble hereditary portion of his Crown of England, and of his Dukedom of Normandy.
"But as they, despising and setting at nought this offer, strove to keep possession of, and to defend the town against him, our King summoned to fight, as it were, against his will, called upon God to witness his just cause * * * he (King Henry) gave himself no rest by day or night, until having fitted and fixed his engines and guns under the walls, he had planted them within shot of the enemy, against the front of the town, and against the walls, gates, and towers, of the same * * * so that taking aim at the place to be battered, the guns from beneath blew forth stones by the force of ignited powers, * * * and in the mean time our King, with his guns and engines, so battered the said bulwark, and the walls and towers on every side, that within a few days, by the impetuosity and fury of the stones, the same bulwark was in a great part broken down; and the walls and towers from which the enemy had sent forth their weapons, the bastions falling in ruins, were rendered defenceless; and very fine edifices, even in the middle of the city, either lay altogether in ruins, or threatened an inevitable fall; or at least were so shaken as to be exceedingly damaged. * * * And although our guns had disarmed the bulwark, walls, and towers during the day, the besieged by night, with logs, faggots, and tubs on vessels full of earth, mud, and sand or stones, piled up within the shattered walls, and with other barricadoes, refortified the streets. * * * The King had caused towers and wooden bulwarks to the height of the walls, and ladders and other instruments, besides those which he had brought with him for the assault." --We are then told that the enemy contrived to set these engines on fire 'by means of powders, and combustibles prepared on the walls.'
The History then states that "a fire broke out where the strength of the French was greater, and the French themselves were overcome with resisting, and in endeavouring to extinguish the fire, until at length by force of arms, darts, and flames, their strength was destroyed. Leaving the place therefore to our party, they fled and retreated beneath the walls for protection; most carefully blocking up the entrance with timber, stones, earth, and mud, lest our people should rush in upon them through the same passage."
"On the following day a conference was held with the Lord de Gaucort, who acted as Captain, and with the more powerful leaders, whether it was the determination of the inhabitants to surrender the town without suffering further rigour of death or war. * * * On that night they entered into a treaty with the King, that if the French King, or the Dauphin, his first-born, being informed, should not raise the seige, and deliver them by force of arms within the first hour after morn on the Sunday following, they would surrender to him the town, and themselves, and their property."
"And neither at the aforesaid hour on the following Sunday, nor within the time, the French King, the Dauphin, nor any one else, coming forward to raise the siege. * * * The aforesaid Lord de Gaucort came from the town into the king's presence, accompanied by those persons who before had sworn to keep the articles, and surrendering to him the keys of the Corporation, submitted themselves, together with the citizens, to his grace. * * * Then the banners of St. George and the King were fixed upon the gates of the town, and the King advanced his illustrious uncle, the Lord Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset (afterwards Duke of Exeter) to be keeper and captain of the town, having delivered to him the keys."
Thus, after a vigorous siege of about thirty-six days, one of the most important towns of Normandy fell into the hands of the invaders. The Chronicler in the text informs us, that the dysentery had carried off infinitely more of the English army than were slain in the siege; that about five thousand men were then so dreadfully debilitated by that disease, that they were unable to proceed, and were therefore sent to England; that three hundred men-at-arms and nine hundred archers were left to garrison Harfleur; that great numbers had cowardly deserted the King, and returned home by stealth; and that after all these deductions, not more than nine hundred lances and five thousand archers remained fit for service.
Hume, in his History of England, relates that "King Henry landed near Harfleur, at the head of an army of 6,000 men-at-arms, and 24,000 foot, mostly archers. He immediately began the siege of that place, which was valiantly defended by d'Estoueleville, and under him by de Guitri, de Gaucourt, and others of the French nobility; but as the garrison was weak, and the fortifications in bad repair, the governor was at last obliged to capitulate, and he promised to surrender the place if he received no succour before the 18th of September. The day came, and there was no appearance of a French army to relieve him. Henry, taking possession of the town, placed a garrison in it, and expelled all the French inhabitants, with an intention of peopling it anew with English. The fatigues of this siege, and the unusual heat of the season, had so wasted the English army, that Henry could enter on no farther enterprise, and was obliged to think of returning to England. He had dismissed his transports, which could not anchor in an open road upon the enemy's coasts, and he lay under a necessity of marching by land to Calais before he could reach a place of safety. A numerous French army of 14,000 men at-arms, and 40,000 foot, was by this time assembled in Normandy, under the constable d'Albret, a force which, if prudently conducted, was sufficient either to trample down the English in the open field, or to harass and reduce to nothing their small army before they could finish so long and difficult a march. Henry, therefore, cautiously offered to sacrifice his conquest of Harfleur for a safe passage to Calais; but his proposal being rejected, he determined to make his way by valour and conduct through all the opposition of the enemy."]
[Footnote IIIc.5: _----linstock_] The staff to which the match is fixed when ordnance is fired.]
[Footnote IIIc.6: _Or close the wall up with our English dead!_] i.e. re-enter the breach you have made, or fill it up with your own dead bodies.]
[Footnote IIIc.7: _Whose blood is +fet+_] To fet is an obsolete word meaning _to fetch_. That is, "whose blood is derived," &c. The word is used by Spencer and Ben Jonson.]
[Footnote IIIc.8: _----like greyhounds in the +slips+,_] _Slips_ are a contrivance of leather, to start two dogs at the same time.]
[Footnote IIIc.9: _----whom of succour we entreated,_] This phraseology was not uncommon in Shakespeare's time.]
[Footnote IIIc.10: _----are we +addrest+._] i.e., prepared.]
## ACT III.
## SCENE I.--FRANCE. ROOM IN THE FRENCH KING'S PALACE.
_Trumpets sound._
_Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, DUKE OF BOURBON, the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, and others, L.H._
_Fr. King._ (C.) 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
_Con._ (R.C.) And if he be not fought withal, my lord, Let us not live in France; let us quit all, And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
_Dau._ (R.) By faith and honour, Our madams mock at us; They bid us--to the English dancing-schools, And teach lavoltas high[1] and swift corantos;[2] Saying our grace is only in our heels, And that we are most lofty runaways.
_Fr. King._ Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.-- Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edg'd More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land With pennons[3] painted in the blood of Harfleur: Go down upon him,--you have power enough,-- And in a captive chariot into Rouen Bring him our prisoner.
_Con._ This becomes the great. Sorry am I his numbers are so few, His soldiers sick, and famish'd in their march; For, I am sure, when he shall see our army, He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear, And, for achievement offer us his ransom.[4]
_Fr. King._ Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy;
[_CONSTABLE crosses to L._
And let him say to England, that we send To know what willing ransom he will give.-- Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
_Dau._ Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
_Fr. King._ Be patient; for you shall remain with us.-- Now, forth, lord constable (_Exit CONSTABLE, L.H._), and princes all, And quickly bring us word of England's fall.
[_Exeunt L.H._
_Trumpets sound._
[Footnote III.1: _----lavoltas high_] A dance in which there was much turning, and much capering.]
[Footnote III.2: _----swift corantos;_] A corant is a sprightly dance.]
[Footnote III.3: _With +pennons+_] _Pennons_ armorial were small flags, on which the arms, device, and motto of a knight were painted.]
## SCENE II.--A VIEW IN PICARDY.
_Distant Battle heard._
_Enter GOWER, L.U.E., meeting FLUELLEN, R.H._
_Gow._ (C.) How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?(A)
_Flu._ (R.C.) I assure you, there is very excellent service committed at the pridge.
_Gow._ Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
_Flu._ The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my livings, and my uttermost powers: he is not (Heaven be praised and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ensign there at the pridge,--I think in my very conscience he is as valiant as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the 'orld; but I did see him do gallant service.
_Gow._ What do you call him?
_Flu._ He is called--ancient Pistol.[5]
_Gow._ I know him not.
_Enter PISTOL, R.H._
_Flu._ Do you not know him? Here comes the man.
_Pist._ Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
_Flu._ Ay, I praise Heaven; and I have merited some love at his hands.
_Pist._ Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, Of buxom valour,[6] hath,--by cruel fate, And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel, That goddess blind. That stands upon the rolling restless stone,--[7]
_Flu._ By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler before her eyes,[8] to signify to you that fortune is plind; And she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and variations, and mutabilities: and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls:--In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of fortune: fortune, look you, is an excellent moral.
_Pist._ Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; For he has stolen a _pix_,[9] and hang'd must 'a be.(B) A damned death! Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free,
[_Crosses to L.H._
But Exeter hath given the doom of death, For _pix_ of little price. Therefore, go speak, the duke will hear thy voice; And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
[_Crosses to R.H._
_Flu._ Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
_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 assure 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 passages: 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 knobs, 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 pronounced. 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 pass, 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 muffler before her eyes,_] A muffler 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.]
[Footnote III.13: _----I must speak with him from the pridge._] _From_ for _about_--concerning the fight that had taken place there.]
[Footnote III.14: _----bubukles,_] A corrupt word for carbuncles, or something like them.]
[Footnote III.15: _----and whelks,_] i.e., stripes, marks, discolorations.]
[Footnote III.16: _----his fire's out._] This is the last time that any sport can be made with the red face of Bardolph.]