Alarum. Enter King Henry and his train, with prisoners.
KING HENRY.
Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen.
But all’s not done; yet keep the French the field.
EXETER.
The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty.
KING HENRY.
Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour
I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting.
From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
EXETER.
In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,
Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
Suffolk first died; and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face.
He cries aloud, “Tarry, my cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven;
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our chivalry.”
Upon these words I came and cheer’d him up.
He smil’d me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says, “Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.”
So did he turn and over Suffolk’s neck
He threw his wounded arm and kiss’d his lips;
And so espous’d to death, with blood he seal’d
A testament of noble-ending love.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forc’d
Those waters from me which I would have stopp’d;
But I had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.
KING HENRY.
I blame you not;
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.
[_Alarum._]
But hark! what new alarum is this same?
The French have reinforc’d their scatter’d men.
Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
Give the word through.
[_Exeunt._]