ack on the Breach.

_Alarums. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, and
Soldiers, R.H._

_K. Hen._ Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead![6]
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger!
On, on, you noble English,
Whose blood is fet[7] from fathers of war-proof!
And you, good yeomen,
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.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,[8]
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge,
Cry--God for Harry! England! and Saint George!

[_The English charge upon the breach, headed by the KING.
Alarums. The GOVERNOR of the Town appears on the walls
with a flag of truce._

_K. Hen._ How yet resolves the governour of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or, like to men proud of destruction,
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier
(A name that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,)
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?

_Gov._ Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated,[9]
Returns us--that his powers are not yet ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our town; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.

[_Soldiers shout._

[_The GOVERNOR and others come from the town, and kneeling,
present to KING HENRY the keys of the city._

_K. Hen._ Come, uncle Exeter, R.
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,--
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers,--we'll retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur[*] will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.[10]

[_March. Eng