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Henry V

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 Enter Chorus 
Chorus 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, 5
 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 winged thoughts 
 Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach 10
 Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys, 
 Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep mouth'd 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. 15
 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 bruised helmet and his bended sword 
 Before him through the city: he forbids it, 20
 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! 25
 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 Caesar in: 
 As, by a lower but loving likelihood, 30
 Were now the general of our gracious empress, 
 As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, 
 Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, 
 How many would the peaceful city quit, 
 To welcome him! much more, and much more cause, 35
 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 40
 All the occurrences, whatever chanced, 
 Till Harry's back-return again to France: 
 There must we bring him; and myself have play'd 
 The interim, by remembering you 'tis past. 
 Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance, 45
 After your thoughts, straight back again to France. 
ACT V SCENE I France. The English camp. 
GOWER Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today? 
 Saint Davy's day is past. 
FLUELLEN There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in 50
 all things: I will tell you, asse my friend, 
 Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, 
 lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and 
 yourself and all the world know to be no petter 
 than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is 55

come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday,
 look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in place 
 where I could not breed no contention with him; but 
 I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see 
 him once again, and then I will tell him a little 60
 piece of my desires. 
 Enter PISTOL 
GOWER Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock. 
FLUELLEN 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his 
 turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you 
 scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you! 65
PISTOL 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. 
FLUELLEN I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my 
 desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, 70
 look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not 
 love it, nor your affections and your appetites and 
 your digestions doo's not agree with it, I would 
 desire you to eat it. 
PISTOL Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. 75
FLUELLEN There is one goat for you. 
 Strikes him 
 Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it? 
PISTOL Base Trojan, thou shalt die. 
FLUELLEN You say very true, scauld knave, when God's will is: 
 I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat 80
 your victuals: come, there is sauce for it. 
 Strikes him. 
 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. 
GOWER Enough, captain: you have astonished him. 85
FLUELLEN I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or 
 I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you; it 
 is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb. 
PISTOL Must I bite? 
FLUELLEN Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question 90
 too, and ambiguities. 
PISTOL By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat 
 and eat, I swear-- 
FLUELLEN Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to 
 your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by. 95
PISTOL Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat. 
FLUELLEN Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray 
 you, throw none away; the skin is good for your 
 broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks 
 hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all. 100
FLUELLEN Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is a groat to 
 heal your pate. 
PISTOL Me a groat! 
FLUELLEN Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I 105
 have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat. 
PISTOL I take thy groat in earnest of revenge. 
FLUELLEN If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels: 
 you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but 
 cudgels. God b' wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate. 110
PISTOL All hell shall stir for this. 
GOWER 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 115
 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 120
 henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good 
 English condition. Fare ye well. 
PISTOL Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now? 
 News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital 
 Of malady of France; 125
 And there my rendezvous is quite cut off. 
 Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs 
 Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I'll turn, 
 And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand. 
 To England will I steal, and there I'll steal: 130
 And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars, 
 And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. 
EPILOGUE Enter Chorus 
Chorus Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen, 
 Our bending author hath pursued the story, 
 In little room confining mighty men, 135
 Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. 
 Small time, but in that small most greatly lived 
 This star of England: Fortune made his sword; 
 By which the world's best garden be achieved, 
 And of it left his son imperial lord. 140
 Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King 
 Of France and England, did this king succeed; 
 Whose state so many had the managing, 
 That they lost France and made his England bleed: 
 Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, 145
 In your fair minds let this acceptance take. 

Henry V, Act 5, Scene 2


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