Act4 Scene6

SCENE SIXTEEN


Fluellen: Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely / against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery / marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience / now, is it not? /

King: I was not angry since I came to France, Vntill this instant?

wee'l cut the throats of those we haue, And not a man of them that we shall take, Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.


Mountjoy: I come to thee for charitable License, That we may wander ore this bloody field, To booke our dead, and then to bury them, To sort our Nobles from our common men.

King: I tell thee truly Herald, I know not if the day be ours or no, For yet a many of your horsemen peere, And gallop ore the field.

Mountjoy: The day is yours.

King: Praised be God, and not our strength for it:

What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by. Mountjoy: They call it Agincourt. King: Then call we this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
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