Actus Quintus.

Enter Chorus.

Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story, That I may prompt them: and of such as haue, I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, Which cannot in their huge and proper life, Be here presented. Now we beare the King Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene, Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts, Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach Pales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes, Whose shouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea, Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King, Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land, And solemnly see him set on to London. So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen now You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath: Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borne His bruised Helmet, and his bended Sword Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it, Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride; Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent, Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold, In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought, How London doth powre out her Citizens, The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort, Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome, With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles, Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Csar in: As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood, Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse, As in good time he may, from Ireland comming, Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword; How many would the peacefull Citie quit, To welcome him? much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry. Now in London place him. As yet the lamentation of the French Inuites the King of Englands stay at home: The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France, To order peace betweene them: and omit All the occurrences, what euer chanc't, Till Harryes backe returne againe to France: There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'd The interim, by remembring you 'tis past. Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance, After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France. Enter.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your Leeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World, know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke: it was in a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. Enter Pistoll.

Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks. God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsie Knaue, God plesse you

Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, base Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence; I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate, looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you to eate it

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats

Flu. There is one Goat for you.

Strikes him.

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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