Kitabı oku: «The Life of King Henry the Fifth», sayfa 6

SCENE III. The English camp

Enter GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host;

 
SALISBURY and WESTMORELAND
  GLOUCESTER. Where is the King?
  BEDFORD. The King himself is rode to view their battle.
  WESTMORELAND. Of fighting men they have full three-score
thousand.
  EXETER. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
  SALISBURY. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
    God bye you, Princes all; I'll to my charge.
    If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
    Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
    My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
    And my kind kinsman- warriors all, adieu!
  BEDFORD. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!
  EXETER. Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly to-day;
    And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
    For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.
 

Exit SALISBURY

 
  BEDFORD. He is as full of valour as of kindness;
    Princely in both.
 

Enter the KING

 
  WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
    But one ten thousand of those men in England
    That do no work to-day!
  KING. What's he that wishes so?
    My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
    If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
    To do our country loss; and if to live,
    The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
    God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
    By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
    Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
    It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
    But if it be a sin to covet honour,
    I am the most offending soul alive.
    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
    God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
    As one man more methinks would share from me
    For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
    Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
    Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
    And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
    We would not die in that man's company
    That fears his fellowship to die with us.
    This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
    He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
    He that shall live this day, and see old age,
    Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
    And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
    Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
    And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
    But he'll remember, with advantages,
    What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
    Familiar in his mouth as household words-
    Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
    Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
    This story shall the good man teach his son;
    And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be remembered-
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
    For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
    Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition;
    And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
    Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
 

Re-enter SALISBURY

 
  SALISBURY. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
    The French are bravely in their battles set,
    And will with all expedience charge on us.
  KING HENRY. All things are ready, if our minds be so.
  WESTMORELAND. Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
  KING HENRY. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?
  WESTMORELAND. God's will, my liege! would you and I alone,
    Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
  KING HENRY. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
    Which likes me better than to wish us one.
    You know your places. God be with you all!
 

Tucket. Enter MONTJOY

 
  MONTJOY. Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
    If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
    Before thy most assured overthrow;
    For certainly thou art so near the gulf
    Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
    The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
    Thy followers of repentance, that their souls
    May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
    From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
    Must lie and fester.
  KING HENRY. Who hath sent thee now?
  MONTJOY. The Constable of France.
  KING HENRY. I pray thee bear my former answer back:
    Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones.
    Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
    The man that once did sell the lion's skin
    While the beast liv'd was kill'd with hunting him.
    A many of our bodies shall no doubt
    Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
    Shall witness live in brass of this day's work.
    And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
    Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
    They shall be fam'd; for there the sun shall greet them
    And draw their honours reeking up to heaven,
    Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
    The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
    Mark then abounding valour in our English,
    That, being dead, like to the bullet's grazing
    Break out into a second course of mischief,
    Killing in relapse of mortality.
    Let me speak proudly: tell the Constable
    We are but warriors for the working-day;
    Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
    With rainy marching in the painful field;
    There's not a piece of feather in our host-
    Good argument, I hope, we will not fly-
    And time hath worn us into slovenry.
    But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
    And my poor soldiers tell me yet ere night
    They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
    The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
    And turn them out of service. If they do this-
    As, if God please, they shall- my ransom then
    Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;
    Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald;
    They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
    Which if they have, as I will leave 'em them,
    Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.
  MONTJOY. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
    Thou never shalt hear herald any more. Exit
  KING HENRY. I fear thou wilt once more come again for a ransom.
 

Enter the DUKE OF YORK

 
  YORK. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
    The leading of the vaward.
  KING HENRY. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away;
    And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day! Exeunt
 

SCENE IV. The field of battle

Alarum. Excursions. Enter FRENCH SOLDIER, PISTOL, and BOY

 
  PISTOL. Yield, cur!
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Je pense que vous etes le gentilhomme de bonne
    qualite.
  PISTOL. Cality! Calen o custure me! Art thou a gentleman?
    What is thy name? Discuss.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. O Seigneur Dieu!
  PISTOL. O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman.
    Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark:
    O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,
    Except, O Signieur, thou do give to me
    Egregious ransom.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. O, prenez misericorde; ayez pitie de moi!
  PISTOL. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
    Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
    In drops of crimson blood.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Est-il impossible d'echapper la force de ton
bras?
  PISTOL. Brass, cur?
    Thou damned and luxurious mountain-goat,
    Offer'st me brass?
  FRENCH SOLDIER. O, pardonnez-moi!
  PISTOL. Say'st thou me so? Is that a ton of moys?
    Come hither, boy; ask me this slave in French
    What is his name.
  BOY. Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Monsieur le Fer.
  BOY. He says his name is Master Fer.
  PISTOL. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him-
   discuss the same in French unto him.
  BOY. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.
  PISTOL. Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Que dit-il, monsieur?
  BOY. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faites vous pret; car
ce
    soldat ici est dispose tout a cette heure de couper votre
gorge.
  PISTOL. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy!
    Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
    Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me
    pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison. Gardez ma
vie, et
    je vous donnerai deux cents ecus.
  PISTOL. What are his words?
  BOY. He prays you to save his life; he is a gentleman of a good
    house, and for his ransom he will give you two hundred
crowns.
  PISTOL. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I
    The crowns will take.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
  BOY. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun
    prisonnier, neamnoins, pour les ecus que vous l'avez promis,
il
    est content a vous donner la liberte, le franchisement.
  FRENCH SOLDIER. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercimens;
et
    je m'estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les mains d'un
    chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et tres
distingue
    seigneur d'Angleterre.
  PISTOL. Expound unto me, boy.
  BOY. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and he
    esteems himself happy that he hath fall'n into the hands of
one-
    as he thinks- the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy
    signieur of England.
  PISTOL. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.
    Follow me. Exit
  BOY. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. Exit FRENCH SOLDIER
    I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart;
but
    the saying is true- the empty vessel makes the greatest
sound.
    Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring
    devil i' th' old play, that every one may pare his nails with
a
    wooden dagger; and they are both hang'd; and so would this
be, if
    he durst steal anything adventurously. I must stay with the
    lackeys, with the luggage of our camp. The French might have
a
    good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is none to guard
it
    but boys. Exit
 

SCENE V. Another part of the field of battle

Enter CONSTABLE, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES

 
  CONSTABLE. O diable!
  ORLEANS. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
  DAUPHIN. Mort Dieu, ma vie! all is confounded, all!
    Reproach and everlasting shame
    Sits mocking in our plumes. [A short alarum]
    O mechante fortune! Do not run away.
  CONSTABLE. Why, an our ranks are broke.
  DAUPHIN. O perdurable shame! Let's stab ourselves.
    Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
  ORLEANS. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
  BOURBON. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
    Let us die in honour: once more back again;
    And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
    Let him go hence and, with his cap in hand
    Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
    Whilst by a slave, no gender than my dog,
    His fairest daughter is contaminated.
  CONSTABLE. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
    Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
  ORLEANS. We are enow yet living in the field
    To smother up the English in our throngs,
    If any order might be thought upon.
  BOURBON. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng.
    Let life be short, else shame will be too long. Exeunt
 

SCENE VI. Another part of the field

Alarum. Enter the KING and his train, with prisoners; EXETER, and others

 
  KING HENRY. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen;
    But all's not done- yet keep the French the field.
  EXETER. The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty.
  KING HENRY. Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour
    I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
    From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
  EXETER. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie
    Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,
    Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
    The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
    Suffolk first died; and York, all haggled over,
    Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
    And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
    That bloodily did yawn upon his face,
    He cries aloud 'Tarry, my cousin Suffolk.
    My soul shall thine keep company to heaven;
    Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast;
    As in this glorious and well-foughten field
    We kept together in our chivalry.'
    Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up;
    He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
    And, with a feeble grip, says 'Dear my lord,
    Commend my service to my sovereign.'
    So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
    He threw his wounded arm and kiss'd his lips;
    And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
    A testament of noble-ending love.
    The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd
    Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;
    But I had not so much of man in me,
    And all my mother came into mine eyes
    And gave me up to tears.
  KING HENRY. I blame you not;
    For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
    With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum]
    But hark! what new alarum is this same?
    The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men.
    Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
    Give the word through. Exeunt
 

SCENE VII. Another part of the field

Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER

 
  FLUELLEN. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'Tis expressly against
the
    law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now,
as
    can be offert; in your conscience, now, is it not?
  GOWER. 'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive; and the
cowardly
    rascals that ran from the battle ha' done this slaughter;
    besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in
the
    King's tent; wherefore the King most worthily hath caus'd
every
    soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a gallant King!
  FLUELLEN. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What call
you
    the town's name where Alexander the Pig was born?
  GOWER. Alexander the Great.
  FLUELLEN. Why, I pray you, is not 'pig' great? The pig, or
great,
    or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one
    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 grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which
your
    Majesty know to this hour is an honourable badge of the
service;
    and I do believe your Majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek
    upon Saint Tavy's day.
  KING HENRY. I wear it for a memorable honour;
    For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
  FLUELLEN. All the water in Wye cannot wash your Majesty's Welsh
    plood out of your pody, I can tell you that. Got pless it and
    preserve it as long as it pleases his Grace and his Majesty
too!
  KING HENRY. Thanks, good my countryman.
  FLUELLEN. By Jeshu, I am your Majesty's countryman, care not
who
    know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld: I need not be
    asham'd of your Majesty, praised be Got, so long as your
Majesty
    is an honest man.
 

Enter WILLIAMS

 
  KING HENRY. God keep me so! Our heralds go with him:
    Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
    On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.
 

Exeunt heralds with MONTJOY

 
  EXETER. Soldier, you must come to the King.
  KING HENRY. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?
  WILLIAMS. An't please your Majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I
    should fight withal, if he be alive.
  KING HENRY. An Englishman?
  WILLIAMS. An't please your Majesty, a rascal that swagger'd
with me
    last night; who, if 'a live and ever dare to challenge this
    glove, I have sworn to take him a box o' th' ear; or if I can
see
    my glove in his cap- which he swore, as he was a soldier, he
    would wear if alive- I will strike it out soundly.
  KING HENRY. What think you, Captain Fluellen, is it fit this
    soldier keep his oath?
  FLUELLEN. He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your
    Majesty, in my conscience.
  KING HENRY. It may be his enemy is a gentlemen of great sort,
quite
    from the answer of his degree.
  FLUELLEN. Though he be as good a gentleman as the Devil is, as
    Lucifier and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your
Grace,
    that he keep his vow and his oath; if he be perjur'd, see you
    now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jacksauce as
    ever his black shoe trod upon God's ground and his earth, in
my
    conscience, la.
  KING HENRY. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the
    fellow.
  WILLIAMS. So I Will, my liege, as I live.
  KING HENRY. Who serv'st thou under?
  WILLIAMS. Under Captain Gower, my liege.
  FLUELLEN. Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and
    literatured in the wars.
  KING HENRY. Call him hither to me, soldier.
  WILLIAMS. I will, my liege. Exit
  KING HENRY. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and
stick
    it in thy cap; when Alencon and myself were down together, I
    pluck'd this glove from his helm. If any man challenge this,
he
    is a friend to Alencon and an enemy to our person; if thou
    encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.
  FLUELLEN. Your Grace does me as great honours as can be desir'd
in
    the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that has
but
    two legs that shall find himself aggrief'd at this glove,
that is
    all; but I would fain see it once, an please God of his grace
    that I might see.
  KING HENRY. Know'st thou Gower?
  FLUELLEN. He is my dear friend, an please you.
  KING HENRY. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.
  FLUELLEN. I will fetch him. Exit
  KING HENRY. My Lord of Warwick and my brother Gloucester,
    Follow Fluellen closely at the heels;
    The glove which I have given him for a favour
    May haply purchase him a box o' th' ear.
    It is the soldier's: I, by bargain, should
    Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick;
    If that the soldier strike him, as I judge
    By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,
    Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
    For I do know Fluellen valiant,
    And touch'd with choler, hot as gunpowder,
    And quickly will return an injury;
    Follow, and see there be no harm between them.
    Go you with me, uncle of Exeter. Exeunt