How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?
Hello, Captain Fluellen! Are you coming from the bridge?
Hey, Captain Fluellen! You just coming from the bridge?
hey fluellen from the bridge?
I assure you, there is very excellent services committed at the bridge.
I assure you, the soldiers at the bridge have done excellent work.
I'm telling you, the troops at the bridge have done amazing things.
soldiers at the bridge r killing it
Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
Has the Duke of Exeter avoided harm?
Is the Duke of Exeter okay?
exeter ok?
The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I
love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life,
and my living, and my uttermost power. He is not—God be praised and
blessed!—any hurt in the world; but keeps the bridge most valiantly,
with excellent discipline. There is an anchient lieutenant there at the
pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark
Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the world, but I did see
him do as gallant service.
The Duke of Exeter is as brave as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honor with all my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and my fullest effort. He is not hurt in any way, God be praised and blessed! But he maintains the bridge most courageously, with excellent discipline. There is an old lieutenant there at the bridge, I believe in my conscience he is as brave a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no importance in the world, but I saw him do as gallant service.
The Duke of Exeter is as brave as Agamemnon. Seriously, I love and respect this guy with all my heart, my soul, my duty, my whole life—everything. He's not hurt at all, thank God. He's holding the bridge perfectly with great discipline. There's an old lieutenant at the bridge there, and I swear he's as brave as Mark Antony. Nobody knows who he is, but I've seen him fight like a hero.
exeter's like agamemnon i love & honor him w everything he's not hurt thank god he's killing it at bridge w discipline old lieutenant fights like mark antony nobody knows him but amazing
What do you call him?
What is his name?
Who's he called?
whats his name
He is call’d Anchient Pistol.
His name is Ancient Pistol.
He's called Ancient Pistol.
ancient pistol
I know him not.
I don't know him.
I've never heard of him.
nah dont know him
Here is the man.
Here he is.
There he is.
theres him
Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours.
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
Captain, I beg you to do me a favor. The Duke of Exeter loves you well.
Captain, I'm asking you for a favor. The Duke of Exeter really likes you.
captain plz do me a favor exeter loves u
Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his hands.
Yes, I thank God; and I have earned some love from him.
Yes, thank God; I've earned his respect.
yep thank god i earned his love
Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
And of buxom valour, hath by cruel fate
And giddy Fortune’s furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind,
That stands upon the rolling restless stone—
Bardolph, a soldier with a firm heart and strong courage, has through cruel fate and Fortune's wild, unpredictable wheel—that blind goddess who stands upon the rolling, restless stone—
Bardolph is a soldier with a good heart and real courage. But Fortune—that blind goddess who keeps spinning on that rolling stone—has turned cruel on him.
bardolph's a good soldier brave & strong but fortune's cruel that blind goddess whos always turning
By your patience, Anchient Pistol. Fortune is painted blind, with a
muffler afore his eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind; and
she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral
of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and
variation; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone,
which rolls, and rolls, and rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most
excellent description of it. Fortune is an excellent moral.
With respect, Ancient Pistol. Fortune is painted blind, with a blindfold over her eyes, to show you that Fortune is blind; and she's painted with a wheel to show you—which is the meaning of it—that she is changing, unpredictable, unstable, and always varying; and her foot, you see, is fixed upon a round stone that rolls and rolls and rolls. Truthfully, the poet makes an excellent description of it. Fortune is an excellent moral lesson.
With respect, Ancient Pistol. Fortune is shown as blind with a blindfold over her eyes—you know, to show that Fortune is blind. And she's got a wheel painted with her too, which means she keeps turning, she's unpredictable, always changing and unstable. Her foot stands on a round stone that just keeps rolling. Honestly, the poet described it perfectly. It's a great lesson about how Fortune works.
ancient look fortune is blind w a blindfold she has a wheel cuz shes always changing & inconsistent her foot on a stone that rolls forever the poets right its perfect
Fortune is Bardolph’s foe, and frowns on him;
For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must ’a be,—
A damned death!
Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free,
And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate.
But Exeter hath given the doom of death
For pax of little price.
Therefore, go speak; the Duke will hear thy voice;
And let not Bardolph’s vital thread be cut
With edge of penny cord and vile reproach.
Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
Fortune is Bardolph's enemy and frowns on him; for he has stolen a sacred object, and he must be hanged—a damned death! Let the gallows be empty for a dog; let a man go free, and don't let a rope choke him. But Exeter has given the death sentence for an object of little value. Therefore, go speak; the Duke will listen to your voice; and don't let Bardolph's life be cut short with cheap rope and shameful treatment. Speak, captain, for his life, and I will reward you.
Fortune has it in for Bardolph and won't help him. He stole something sacred, and now he's going to be hanged—what a horrible way to die! Let the gallows sit empty for animals; let humans go free, don't let rope strangle them. But Exeter has sentenced him to death for stealing something worthless. So please speak up; the Duke will listen to you; don't let Bardolph's life end because of some cheap rope and shame. Speak for him, captain, and I'll make it worth your while.
fortune hates bardolph he stole smth sacred theyre gonna hang him thats awful dont kill ppl 4 nothing exeter sentenced him 4 worthless thing please speak 4 him the duke will listen ill pay u back
Bardolph's execution is handled in seventeen words: 'one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man.' Henry's response is twelve words: 'We would have all such offenders so cut off.' That's twenty-nine words to execute a man who has been a recurring character across three plays. The brevity is devastating. Henry and Bardolph drank together in the Boar's Head tavern in Henry IV. They were, in some sense, friends. Now Bardolph is a statistic — identified only by his red nose — and Henry approves his death without a pause. This is the scene that definitively closes the door on the Hal who rejected Falstaff. The king has no private friendships, no loyalty that overrides law. Whether this makes him admirable or monstrous is the question Shakespeare refuses to answer.
Anchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
Ancient Pistol, I understand somewhat what you're saying.
Ancient Pistol, I get what you're driving at.
i kinda get what ur saying
Why then, rejoice therefore.
Then you should be happy about it.
So you can celebrate.
so be happy
Certainly, anchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at; for if, look you,
he were my brother, I would desire the Duke to use his good pleasure,
and put him to execution; for discipline ought to be used.
Certainly, Ancient, it is not something to be happy about; for if he were my brother, I would ask the Duke to execute him; because military discipline must be enforced.
Certainly, Ancient, there's nothing to celebrate. If he were my own brother, I'd still want the Duke to execute him. Discipline has to be maintained.
no way theres nothing 2 celebrate even if he was my brother id want him executed discipline matters
Die and be damn’d! and _fico_ for thy friendship!
Go to hell! And I make an obscene gesture at your friendship!
Go to hell! And forget your friendship!
go 2 hell screw your friendship
It is well.
It is well.
It is well.
It is well.
The fig of Spain.
A Spanish insult to you.
That's a Spanish insult for you.
spanish insult 4 u
Very good.
Very good.
Very good.
Very good.
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal. I remember him now; a bawd,
a cutpurse.
This is a complete fraud and scoundrel. I remember him now; a pimp, a thief.
This guy's a total fake and a scoundrel. I remember him—he's a pimp and a pickpocket.
hes a complete fraud a scoundrel a pimp & thief
I’ll assure you, ’a uttered as prave words at the pridge as you shall
see in a summer’s day. But it is very well; what he has spoke to me,
that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.
I assure you, he spoke as brave words at the bridge as you will see in a summer's day. But it is well enough; what he has said to me, that is good, I promise you, when the time comes.
I'm telling you, he said brave things at the bridge like you've never heard. But it's fine; what he said to me—I'm confident that will be useful when the time comes.
he said brave stuff at bridge but its all good what he said 2 me will be useful later
Why, ’t is a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars,
to grace himself at his return into London under the form of a soldier.
And such fellows are perfect in the great commanders’ names; and they
will learn you by rote where services were done; at such and such a
sconce, at such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off bravely, who
was shot, who disgrac’d, what terms the enemy stood on; and this they
con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned
oaths: and what a beard of the general’s cut and a horrid suit of the
camp will do among foaming bottles and ale-wash’d wits, is wonderful to
be thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or
else you may be marvellously mistook.
He's a fool, a rogue, who occasionally goes to war just to look impressive when he comes back to London dressed as a soldier. And such fellows know all the great commanders' names perfectly; and they will recite to you from memory where battles happened; at such and such a fortification, at such a breach, at such a supply convoy; who fought bravely, who was shot, who was disgraced, what terms the enemy was on; and they memorize the language of war perfectly, which they dress up with new oaths: and what a beard cut in the general's fashion and a terrible army suit will do among drunk fools is amazing to imagine. But you must learn to recognize these frauds of the time, or else you may be greatly deceived.
He's a complete fool and crook who goes to war now and then just so he can show up in London afterward dressed like a soldier and impress people. These guys know all the commanders' names by heart, and they'll bore you with stories about where battles happened—at this fort, that breach, this supply run—who fought well, who got shot, who got disgraced, what the enemy wanted. They memorize military talk perfectly and throw in fake oaths everywhere. And honestly, with a fancy beard and military clothes, they can fool drunk idiots at bars. You have to learn to spot these frauds, or you'll get completely fooled.
hes a fraud who plays soldier in london knows all generals names recites battle stories who fought who got shot whos disgraced uses fake oaths & military talk fools drunk ppl w beard & uniform learn 2 spot these frauds or ull get fooled
I tell you what, Captain Gower; I do perceive he is not the man that he
would gladly make show to the world he is. If I find a hole in his
coat, I will tell him my mind. [_Drum heard._] Hark you, the King is
coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.
I'll tell you what, Captain Gower. I can see that he is not the man he wants the world to think he is. If I find proof that he's done wrong, I will speak my mind to him. Listen, the King is coming, and I must speak with him from the bridge.
Listen, Captain Gower, I can tell he's not what he pretends to be. If I catch him in a lie, I'll let him know exactly what I think. Wait—the King's coming. I need to talk to him about the bridge.
hes not what he pretends. if i catch him ill tell him off. wait—kings coming. gotta talk 2 him abt the bridge
God bless your Majesty!
Blessings upon you, your Majesty!
God bless you, sir!
god bless
How now, Fluellen! cam’st thou from the bridge?
Hello, Fluellen! Are you coming from the bridge?
Fluellen! You just coming from the bridge?
fluellen u from the bridge?
Henry's reply to Montjoy is one of the most unusual speeches in the history of military rhetoric: a leader admitting, to his enemy's messenger, that his army is sick and depleted, that his numbers are down, that his ransom is his 'frail and worthless trunk.' Every strategic manual would say this is exactly what you don't tell the enemy. Yet Henry tells it. The result is paradoxically more threatening than bluster would have been. By making his weakness visible and then saying he's coming anyway, Henry removes all leverage from the French demand. They want him to feel fear; he shows them he already knows how bad things are, and doesn't care. The theological turn — 'God before, tell him we will come on' — is the key: Henry has moved the battle to a plane where odds don't matter.
Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly
maintain’d the pridge. The French is gone off, look you; and there is
gallant and most prave passages. Marry, th’ athversary was have
possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of
Exeter is master of the pridge. I can tell your Majesty, the Duke is a
prave man.
Yes, if it please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very courageously held the bridge. The French have left, you see; and there have been brave actions. The enemy did have possession of the bridge, but they were forced to retreat, and now the Duke of Exeter controls the bridge. I can tell your Majesty, the Duke is a brave man.
Yes, your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has held the bridge beautifully. The French have pulled back, and we had some fierce fighting. The enemy did have the bridge at first, but they got forced to leave, and now the Duke has it. He's a really brave man, your Majesty.
yep your majesty exeter held the bridge great french left we had fierce fighting enemy had it first but retreated dukes in charge now hes so brave
What men have you lost, Fluellen?
How many soldiers have you lost, Fluellen?
How many of your men did you lose, Fluellen?
how many soldiers u lose
The perdition of the athversary hath been very great, reasonable great.
Marry, for my part, I think the Duke hath lost never a man, but one
that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your
Majesty know the man. His face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs,
and flames o’ fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a
coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red; but his nose is
executed, and his fire’s out.
The losses of the enemy have been very great, quite significant. But as for my part, I think the Duke has lost no men except one who is going to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your Majesty knows the man. His face is all pimples and sores and bumps and red and inflamed; and his lips swell at his nose, and it looks like a piece of burning coal, sometimes blue and sometimes red; but his nose has been destroyed, and his inflammation is gone.
The French have lost way more soldiers. But as for us, I think the Duke lost no one except Bardolph, who's going to be executed for stealing from a church—you might know him, your Majesty. He's got this horrible face covered in sores and bumps and everything's inflamed. His whole nose was basically on fire, sometimes blue sometimes red. But his nose has been destroyed and the infection is gone.
enemy lost tons but we barely lost anyone except bardolph getting executed he stole from a church his face was all sores & bumps like his nose was on fire but nows gone
We would have all such offenders so cut off; and we give express
charge, that in our marches through the country, there be nothing
compell’d from the villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the
French upbraided or abused in disdainful language; for when lenity and
cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.
Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
We would have all such criminals executed; and we give strict orders that during our marches through the country, nothing is taken from the villages by force, nothing is taken that is not paid for, none of the French people are insulted or abused with contemptuous language; for when mercy and cruelty compete for a kingdom, the gentler player wins first.
We want criminals like that punished. And I'm ordering that as we march through the country, we don't force anything from the villages, we pay for what we take, and we don't insult or abuse the French people. Because mercy beats cruelty in winning a kingdom. The kind person wins.
criminals should be punished order: dont force stuff from villages pay 4 what u take dont insult french ppl kindness wins kingdoms not cruelty
You know me by my habit.
You know who I am by my uniform.
You can tell who I am by what I'm wearing.
u know me by my uniform
Well then I know thee. What shall I know of thee?
Then I know who you are. What do you want me to know from you?
Then I know who you are. What are you here to tell me?
ok i know u what u got 4 me
My master’s mind.
My master’s mind.
My master’s mind.
My master’s mind.
Unfold it.
Unfold it.
Unfold it.
Unfold it.
Thus says my King: Say thou to Harry of England: Though we seem’d dead,
we did but sleep; advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him
we could have rebuk’d him at Harfleur, but that we thought not good to
bruise an injury till it were full ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and
our voice is imperial. England shall repent his folly, see his
weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his
ransom; which must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we
have lost, the disgrace we have digested; which in weight to re-answer,
his pettishness would bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is too
poor; for the effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too
faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person, kneeling at our
feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add defiance; and
tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose
condemnation is pronounc’d. So far my King and master; so much my
office.
My King says this: Tell Harry of England: Although we appeared defeated, we only slept; caution is a better strategy than recklessness. Tell him we could have stopped him at Harfleur, but we thought it better not to strike at an insult until it was fully developed. Now we speak at our moment, and our voice commands authority. England will regret his foolishness, see his weakness, and appreciate our patience. Ask him to consider his ransom; which must match the losses we have suffered, the subjects we have lost, the shame we have endured; which to equal in weight, his arrogance would collapse under. For our losses, his treasury is too poor; for the blood we shed, the number of his soldiers is too small; and for our shame, his own person kneeling at our feet is only a weak and worthless satisfaction. Add to this our defiance; and tell him, in conclusion, he has betrayed his followers, whose destruction is decided. That is my King's message and my duty.
My King says: Tell Harry of England that we weren't really defeated, we were just resting. We were patient, not reckless. We could have attacked him at Harfleur but we waited for the right moment. Now it's time for us to strike with full power. England will regret how foolish he's been, see how weak he is, and respect that we've been so patient. Tell him to think about a ransom. It has to match what we've lost—the people we've lost, the shame we've suffered. He couldn't possibly pay enough—his wealth isn't enough for our losses, he doesn't have enough soldiers to match what we've lost, and even if he personally knelt at our feet, that's not enough payment. We're defying him, and he's betrayed his men. They're already as good as dead. That's the message.
king says: tell harry we werent beaten we were patient could've hit u at harfleur but waited now our time 2 strike england will regret ur foolishness & weakness think about ransom must match our losses theres no way u can pay enough even ur bow isn't worth it we defy u ud betrayed ur men
What is thy name? I know thy quality.
What is your name? I know what you are.
What's your name? I know your position.
whos ur name i know what u r
Montjoy.
Montjoy.
Montjoy.
Montjoy.
Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
And tell thy King I do not seek him now,
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment; for, to say the sooth,
Though ’tis no wisdom to confess so much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,
My people are with sickness much enfeebled,
My numbers lessen’d, and those few I have
Almost no better than so many French;
Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchmen. Yet, forgive me, God,
That I do brag thus! This your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me. I must repent.
Go therefore, tell thy master here I am;
My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk,
My army but a weak and sickly guard;
Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
Though France himself and such another neighbour
Stand in our way. There’s for thy labour, Montjoy.
Go, bid thy master well advise himself.
If we may pass, we will; if we be hind’red,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour; and so, Montjoy, fare you well.
The sum of all our answer is but this:
We would not seek a battle, as we are;
Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it.
So tell your master.
You do your job well. Go back and tell your King I don't want to fight him now, but I could happily march to Calais without being stopped; because, honestly, even though it's not smart to admit this to an enemy who would use it against me, my people are badly weakened by sickness, my army is smaller, and the few soldiers I have are almost no better than French soldiers. When the French were in good health, I tell you, herald, I believed one pair of English legs could match three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God, that I brag like this! The air of France has encouraged this vice in me. I must repent. So go and tell your master I am here; my ransom is this weak and worthless body, my army is just a weak and sick guard; yet, God be witness, tell him we will advance, even though France itself and another such opponent stand in our way. There's payment for your work, Montjoy. Go and tell your master to think carefully. If we can pass, we will; if we are stopped, we will stain your ground with French blood; and so, Montjoy, goodbye. The sum of all our answer is this: we don't want a battle in our current condition; nor, in our current condition, will we avoid one. So tell your master.
You do your job well. Go back and tell your King I don't want to fight him right now, but I could march to Calais without any problem if he'd let me. Look, I shouldn't tell an enemy this, but my soldiers are sick and weak, I've got fewer men than I'd like, and honestly the few I have aren't much better than his soldiers. I used to think one Englishman could beat three Frenchmen, but I'm not sure anymore. Sorry, I shouldn't brag. This French air is getting to me. Tell your master I'm here. My life is all I can offer as ransom—that's how weak I am. My army is just barely holding together. But I swear to God, we will fight if we have to, no matter what stands in our way. There's your payment. Tell your master to really think about this. If he lets us pass, we go. If he stops us, we'll fight and stain his ground with blood. We don't want battle in our condition, but we won't run from it either. That's my answer.
u do ur job well tell ur king: i dont want 2 fight rn but id march 2 calais happy my ppl r sick & weak i barely have enough soldiers one englishman used 2 beat 3 frenchmen not sure anymore sorry 4 bragging my lifes all i can offer as ransom my army barely holding but well fight if u stop us dont want battle but wont run from it
I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness.
I will give your message. Thank you, your Highness.
I'll deliver your message. Thanks for the coin.
ill tell him thanks
I hope they will not come upon us now.
I hope they don't attack us now.
Let's hope we can avoid trouble for a bit.
hope they dont attack us now
We are in God’s hands, brother, not in theirs.
March to the bridge; it now draws toward night.
Beyond the river we’ll encamp ourselves,
And on tomorrow bid them march away.
We are in God's hands, brother, not in their control. March to the bridge; it is now getting close to night. Beyond the river we will set up our camp, and tomorrow we will have them march away.
We're in God's hands, brother, not in their hands. Let's march to the bridge. It's getting dark. We'll camp on the other side of the river and leave tomorrow.
gods got us not them march 2 the bridge its getting dark well camp across the river leave tomorrow
The Reckoning
Three scenes in one, each doing something different. The Bardolph sequence is almost funny — Fluellen taking Pistol's pompous poetry absolutely literally, Gower's hilariously precise take-down of the fake soldier type — and then suddenly it connects to Henry, who was Bardolph's friend in the tavern days. 'We would have all such offenders so cut off' is perhaps the coldest line Henry says in the play. He barely pauses. Then Montjoy arrives with the French demand for ransom, and Henry gives one of the play's most unexpected speeches: he admits, frankly, that his army is depleted and sick, almost nothing but his own frail body — and then says they're coming anyway. It's simultaneously humble and completely unconquerable.
If this happened today…
The startup CEO who, in response to a competitor's press release saying 'we expect them to sell soon,' sends back: 'Our runway is limited, our team is smaller than reported, and frankly we've been through a rough quarter. That said: we're not going anywhere, and we'll see you at the conference.' Everyone reads it and doesn't quite know what to make of it.