Page 1648 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, [25]
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding − which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. [30]
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

Straining upon che start. 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 IT

Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.

BARDOLPH
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 humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain-

song of it. [5]

PISTOL
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. [10]

BOY
Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give all my fame for a pot of
ale, and safety.

PISTOL