Gower

Gower 
To sing a song that old was sung,
From ashes ancient Gower is come,
Assuming man’s infirmities
To glad your ear and please your eyes.

Bad child, worse father! To entice his own
To evil should be done by none.

It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember eves and holy days,
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Fluellen
Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now,
will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations
with you as partly touching or concerning the
disciplines of the war, the Roman wars? In the way
of argument, look you, and friendly communication,
partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the
satisfaction, look you, of my mind,
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No visor does become black villainy
So well as soft and tender flattery.
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Fluellen
Kill the poys and the luggage! ’Tis expressly
against the law of arms. ’Tis as arrant a piece of
knavery, mark you now, as can be offert, in your
conscience now, is it not?

Wherefore the King, most worthily, hath caused
every soldier to cut his prisoner’s throat.
O, ’tis a gallant king!

Gower
’Tis certain there’s not a boy left alive,
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