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    Act 4. Scene VIII - Page 2

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    but as a common man; witness the night, your
    garments, your lowliness; and what your highness
    suffered under that shape, I beseech you take it for
    your own fault and not mine: for had you been as I
    took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I
    beseech your highness, pardon me.

    KING HENRY V
    Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
    And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;
    And wear it for an honour in thy cap
    Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns:
    And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

    FLUELLEN
    By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle
    enough in his belly. Hold, there is twelve pence
    for you; and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you
    out of prawls, and prabbles' and quarrels, and
    dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.

    WILLIAMS
    I will none of your money.

    FLUELLEN
    It is with a good will; I can tell you, it will
    serve you to mend your shoes: come, wherefore should
    you be so pashful? your shoes is not so good: 'tis
    a good silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.

    Enter an English Herald

    KING HENRY V
    Now, herald, are the dead number'd?

    Herald
    Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

    KING HENRY V
    What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

    EXETER
    Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;
    John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt:
    Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
    Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

    KING HENRY V
    This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
    That in the field lie slain: of princes, in this number,
    And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
    One hundred twenty six: added to these,
    Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
    Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
    Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:
    So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
    There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
    The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires,
    And gentlemen of blood and quality.
    The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
    Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;
    Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;
    The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;

    Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin,
    John Duke of Alencon, Anthony Duke of Brabant,
    The brother of the Duke of Burgundy,
    And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
    Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,
    Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.
    Here was a royal fellowship of death!
    Where is the number of our English dead?

    Herald shews him another paper

    Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
    Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire:
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