o answer for it.

_Bates._ I do not desire he should answer for me; and yet I determine to
fight lustily for him.

_K. Hen._ I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed.

_Will._ Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully: but, when our
throats are cut, he may be ransomed, and we ne'er the wiser.

_K. Hen._ If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.

_Will._ That's a perilous shot out of an elder gun, that a poor and
private displeasure can do against a monarch! you may as well go about
to turn the sun to ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's
feather. You'll never trust his word after! come, 'tis a foolish saying.

_K. Hen._ Your reproof is something too round:[11] I should be angry
with you, if the time were convenient.

_Will._ Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.

_K. Hen._ I embrace it.

_Will._ How shall I know thee again?

_K. Hen._ Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet:
then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.

_Will._ Here's my glove: give me another of thine.

_K. Hen._ There.

_Will._ This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou come to me and
say, after to-morrow. _This is my glove_, by this hand, I will take thee
a box on the ear.

_K. Hen._ If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.

_Will._ Thou darest as well be hanged.

_K. Hen._ Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the king's company.

_Will._ Keep thy word: fare thee well.

_Bates._ Be friends, you English fools, be friends: (_Crosses to_
WILLIAMS, R.) we have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to
reckon.

[_Exeunt Soldiers, R.H._

_K. Hen._ Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,
Our sins, lay on the king!--we must bear all.
O hard condition, twin-born with greatness,
Subjected to the breath of every fool.
What infinite heart's ease must king's neglect,
That private men enjoy!
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men?
Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd
Than they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou prou