Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more. [Exit.
K. Hen. I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.[5167]
Enter York.
York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
The leading of the vaward.130
K. Hen. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:
And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day! [Exeunt.
Scene IV. The field of battle.[5168]
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistol, French Soldier, and Boy.
Pist. Yield, cur!
Fr. Sol. Je pense que vous êtes gentilhomme de bonne[5169]
qualité.