On, on, on, on, on! To the breach, to the breach!

Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too hot; and, for mine own

part, I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too hot; that is

the very plain-song of it.

The plain-song is most just, for humours do abound.

Knocks go and come; God’s vassals drop and die;

And sword and shield,

In bloody field,

Doth win immortal fame.

Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give all my fame for a

pot of ale and safety.

And I.

If wishes would prevail with me,

My purpose should not fail with me,

But thither would I hie.

As duly,

But not as truly,

As bird doth sing on bough.

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

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!

These be good humours! Your honour wins bad humours.

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 anything, 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 Calais 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.

Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines.

The Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.

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, the

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.

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.

It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?

I think it be.

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.

Here ’a comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him.

Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is certain; and

of great expedition and knowledge in the anchient wars, upon my

particular knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu, he will maintain his

argument as well as any military man in the world, in the disciplines

of the pristine wars of the Romans.

I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen.

God-den to your worship, good Captain James.

How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the mines?

Have the pioneers given o’er?

By Chrish, la! ’tish ill done! The work ish give over, the trompet

sound the retreat. By my hand I swear, and my father’s soul, the work

ish ill done; it ish give over. I would have blowed up the town, so

Chrish save me, la! in an hour. O, ’tish ill done, ’tish ill done; by

my hand, ’tish ill done!

Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a

few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the

disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look

you, and friendly communication; partly to satisfy my opinion, and

partly for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the

direction of the military discipline; that is the point.

It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: and I sall quit you

with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I, marry.

It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day is hot, and the

weather, and the wars, and the King, and the Dukes. It is no time to

discourse. The town is beseech’d, and the trumpet call us to the

breach, and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing. ’Tis shame for us all.

So God sa’ me, ’tis shame to stand still; it is shame, by my hand; and

there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing

done, so Chrish sa’ me, la!

By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to slomber, I’ll

de gud service, or I’ll lig i’ the grund for it; ay, or go to death;

and I’ll pay’t as valorously as I may, that sall I suerly do, that is

the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full fain heard some question

’tween you tway.

Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is

not many of your nation—

Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a bastard, and a

knave, and a rascal? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?

Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, Captain

Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me with that

affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you, being as

good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of war, and in the

derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

I do not know you so good a man as myself. So Chrish save me,

I will cut off your head.

Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.

Ah! that’s a foul fault.

The town sounds a parley.

Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be

required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know the

disciplines of war; and there is an end.