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]

Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.

 

BARD. 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 humor of it is too hot, that is the very plain-song of it.

PIST.

The plain-song is most just; for humors 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 would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.

PIST.

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.

 

FLU. Up to the breach, you dogs! Avaunt, you cullions!

 

[Driving them forward.]

 

PIST.

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 humors! your honor wins bad humors.

 

Exit [with Bardolph and Pistol; Fluellen steps aside].

 

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 any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three half-pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Callice 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.

 

Enter Gower. [Fluellen comes forward.]

 

GOW. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.

FLU. 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.

GOW. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.

FLU. It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?

GOW. I think it be.

FLU. 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.

 

GOW.