The Life of Henry the Fift

William Shakespeare

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  • The Life of Henry the Fift
  • The Life of Henry the Fift


    Enter Prologue.


    O For a Muse of Fire, that would ascend
    The brightest Heauen of Inuention:
    A Kingdome for a Stage, Princes to Act,
    And Monarchs to behold the swelling Scene.
    Then should the Warlike Harry, like himselfe,
    Assume the Port of Mars, and at his heeles
    (Leasht in, like Hounds) should Famine, Sword, and Fire
    Crouch for employment. But pardon, Gentles all:
    The flat vnraysed Spirits, that hath dar'd,
    On this vnworthy Scaffold, to bring forth
    So great an Obiect. Can this Cock-Pit hold
    The vastie fields of France? Or may we cramme
    Within this Woodden O, the very Caskes
    That did affright the Ayre at Agincourt?
    O pardon: since a crooked Figure may
    Attest in little place a Million,
    And let vs, Cyphers to this great Accompt,
    On your imaginarie Forces worke.
    Suppose within the Girdle of these Walls
    Are now confin'd two mightie Monarchies,
    Whose high, vp-reared, and abutting Fronts,
    The perillous narrow Ocean parts asunder.
    Peece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
    Into a thousand parts diuide one Man,
    And make imaginarie Puissance.
    Thinke when we talke of Horses, that you see them
    Printing their prowd Hoofes i'th' receiuing Earth:
    For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our Kings,
    Carry them here and there: Iumping o're Times;
    Turning th' accomplishment of many yeeres
    Into an Howre-glasse: for the which supplie,
    Admit me Chorus to this Historie;
    Who Prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
    Gently to heare, kindly to iudge our Play.
    Enter.


    Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.


    Enter the two Bishops of Canterbury and Ely.


      Bish.Cant. My Lord, Ile tell you, that selfe Bill is vrg'd,
    Which in th' eleue[n]th yere of y last Kings reign
    Was like, and had indeed against vs past,
    But that the scambling and vnquiet time
    Did push it out of farther question


       Bish.Ely. But how my Lord shall we resist it now?
      Bish.Cant. It must be thought on: if it passe against vs,
    We loose the better halfe of our Possession:
    For all the Temporall Lands, which men deuout
    By Testament haue giuen to the Church,
    Would they strip from vs; being valu'd thus,
    As much as would maintaine, to the Kings honor,
    Full fifteene Earles, and fifteene hundred Knights,
    Six thousand and two hundred good Esquires:
    And to reliefe of Lazars, and weake age
    Of indigent faint Soules, past corporall toyle,
    A hundred Almes-houses, right well supply'd:
    And to the Coffers of the King beside,
    A thousand pounds by th' yeere. Thus runs the Bill


       Bish.Ely. This would drinke deepe


       Bish.Cant. 'Twould drinke the Cup and all


       Bish.Ely. But what preuention?
      Bish.Cant. The King is full of grace, and faire regard


       Bish.Ely. And a true louer of the holy Church


       Bish.Cant. The courses of his youth promis'd it not.
    The breath no sooner left his Fathers body,
    But that his wildnesse, mortify'd in him,
    Seem'd to dye too: yea, at that very moment,
    Consideration like an Angell came,
    And whipt th' offending Adam out of him;
    Leauing his body as a Paradise,
    T' inuelop and containe Celestiall Spirits.
    Neuer was such a sodaine Scholler made:
    Neuer came Reformation in a Flood,
    With such a heady currance scowring faults:
    Nor neuer Hidra-headed Wilfulnesse
    So soone did loose his Seat; and all at once;
    As in this King


       Bish.Ely. We are blessed in the Change


       Bish.Cant. Heare him but reason in Diuinitie;
    And all-admiring, with an inward wish
    You would desire the King were made a Prelate:
    Heare him debate of Common-wealth Affaires;
    You would say, it hath been all in all his study:
    List his discourse of Warre; and you shall heare
    A fearefull Battaile rendred you in Musique.
    Turne him to any Cause of Pollicy,
    The Gordian Knot of it he will vnloose,
    Familiar as his Garter: that when he speakes,
    The Ayre, a Charter'd Libertine, is still,
    And the mute Wonder lurketh in mens eares,
    To steale his sweet and honyed Sentences:
    So that the Art and Practique part of Life,
    Must be the Mistresse to this Theorique.
    Which is a wonder how his Grace should gleane it,
    Since his addiction was to Courses vaine,
    His Companies vnletter'd, rude, and shallow,
    His Houres fill'd vp with Ryots, Banquets, Sports;
    And neuer noted in him any studie,
    Any retyrement, any sequestration,
    From open Haunts and Popularitie


       B.Ely. The Strawberry growes vnderneath the Nettle,
    And holesome Berryes thriue and ripen best,
    Neighbour'd by Fruit of baser qualitie:
    And so the Prince obscur'd his Contemplation
    Vnder the Veyle of Wildnesse, which (no doubt)
    Grew like the Summer Grasse, fastest by Night,
    Vnseene, yet cressiue in his facultie


       B.Cant. It must be so; for Miracles are ceast:
    And therefore we must needes admit the meanes,
    How things are perfected


       B.Ely. But my good Lord:
    How now for mittigation of this Bill,
    Vrg'd by the Commons? doth his Maiestie
    Incline to it, or no?
      B.Cant. He seemes indifferent:
    Or rather swaying more vpon our part,
    Then cherishing th' exhibiters against vs:
    For I haue made an offer to his Maiestie,
    Vpon our Spirituall Conuocation,
    And in regard of Causes now in hand,
    Which I haue open'd to his Grace at large,
    As touching France, to giue a greater Summe,
    Then euer at one time the Clergie yet
    Did to his Predecessors part withall


       B.Ely. How did this offer seeme receiu'd, my Lord?
      B.Cant. With good acceptance of his Maiestie:
    Saue that there was not time enough to heare,
    As I perceiu'd his Grace would faine haue done,
    The seueralls and vnhidden passages
    Of his true Titles to some certaine Dukedomes,
    And generally, to the Crowne and Seat of France,
    Deriu'd from Edward, his great Grandfather


       B.Ely. What was th' impediment that broke this off?
      B.Cant. The French Embassador vpon that instant
    Crau'd audience; and the howre I thinke is come,
    To giue him hearing: Is it foure a Clock?
      B.Ely. It is


       B.Cant. Then goe we in, to know his Embassie:
    Which I could with a ready guesse declare,
    Before the Frenchman speake a word of it


       B.Ely. Ile wait vpon you, and I long to heare it.


    Exeunt.


    Enter the King, Humfrey, Bedford, Clarence, Warwick,
    Westmerland, and
    Exeter.


      King. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
      Exeter. Not here in presence


       King. Send for him, good Vnckle


       Westm. Shall we call in th' Ambassador, my Liege?
      King. Not yet, my Cousin: we would be resolu'd,
    Before we heare him, of some things of weight,
    That taske our thoughts, concerning vs and France.
    Enter two Bishops.


      B.Cant. God and his Angels guard your sacred Throne,
    And make you long become it


       King. Sure we thanke you.
    My learned Lord, we pray you to proceed,
    And iustly and religiously vnfold,
    Why the Law Salike, that they haue in France,
    Or should or should not barre vs in our Clayme:
    And God forbid, my deare and faithfull Lord,
    That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
    Or nicely charge your vnderstanding Soule,
    With opening Titles miscreate, whose right
    Sutes not in natiue colours with the truth:
    For God doth know, how many now in health,
    Shall drop their blood, in approbation
    Of what your reuerence shall incite vs to.
    Therefore take heed how you impawne our Person,
    How you awake our sleeping Sword of Warre;
    We charge you in the Name of God take heed:
    For neuer two such Kingdomes did contend,
    Without much fall of blood, whose guiltlesse drops
    Are euery one, a Woe, a sore Complaint,
    'Gainst him, whose wrongs giues edge vnto the Swords,
    That makes such waste in briefe mortalitie.
    Vnder this Coniuration, speake my Lord:
    For we will heare, note, and beleeue in heart,
    That what you speake, is in your Conscience washt,
    As pure as sinne with Baptisme


       B.Can. Then heare me gracious Soueraign, &you Peers,
    That owe your selues, your liues, and seruices,
    To this Imperiall Throne. There is no barre
    To make against your Highnesse Clayme to France,
    But this which they produce from Pharamond,
    In terram Salicam Mulieres ne succedant,
    No Woman shall succeed in Salike Land:
    Which Salike Land, the French vniustly gloze
    To be the Realme of France, and Pharamond
    The founder of this Law, and Female Barre.
    Yet their owne Authors faithfully affirme,
    That the Land Salike is in Germanie,
    Betweene the Flouds of Sala and of Elue:
    Where Charles the Great hauing subdu'd the Saxons,
    There left behind and settled certaine French:
    Who holding in disdaine the German Women,
    For some dishonest manners of their life,
    Establisht then this Law; to wit, No Female
    Should be Inheritrix in Salike Land:
    Which Salike (as I said) 'twixt Elue and Sala,
    Is at this day in Germanie, call'd Meisen.
    Then doth it well appeare, the Salike Law
    Was not deuised for the Realme of France:
    Nor did the French possesse the Salike Land,
    Vntill foure hundred one and twentie yeeres
    After defunction of King Pharamond,
    Idly suppos'd the founder of this Law,
    Who died within the yeere of our Redemption,
    Foure hundred twentie six: and Charles the Great
    Subdu'd the Saxons, and did seat the French
    Beyond the Riuer Sala, in the yeere
    Eight hundred fiue. Besides, their Writers say,
    King Pepin, which deposed Childerike,
    Did as Heire Generall, being descended
    Of Blithild, which was Daughter to King Clothair,
    Make Clayme and Title to the Crowne of France.
    Hugh Capet also, who vsurpt the Crowne
    Of Charles the Duke of Loraine, sole Heire male
    Of the true Line and Stock of Charles the Great:
    To find his Title with some shewes of truth,
    Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught,
    Conuey'd himselfe as th' Heire to th' Lady Lingare,
    Daughter to Charlemaine, who was the Sonne
    To Lewes the Emperour, and Lewes the Sonne
    Of Charles the Great: also King Lewes the Tenth,
    Who was sole Heire to the Vsurper Capet,
    Could not keepe quiet in his conscience,
    Wearing the Crowne of France, 'till satisfied,
    That faire Queene Isabel, his Grandmother,
    Was Lineall of the Lady Ermengare,
    Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Loraine:
    By the which Marriage, the Lyne of Charles the Great
    Was re-vnited to the Crowne of France.
    So, that as cleare as is the Summers Sunne,
    King Pepins Title, and Hugh Capets Clayme,
    King Lewes his satisfaction, all appeare
    To hold in Right and Title of the Female:
    So doe the Kings of France vnto this day.
    Howbeit, they would hold vp this Salique Law,
    To barre your Highnesse clayming from the Female,
    And rather chuse to hide them in a Net,
    Then amply to imbarre their crooked Titles,
    Vsurpt from you and your Progenitors


       King. May I with right and conscience make this claim?
      Bish.Cant. The sinne vpon my head, dread Soueraigne:
    For in the Booke of Numbers is it writ,
    When the man dyes, let the Inheritance
    Descend vnto the Daughter. Gracious Lord,
    Stand for your owne, vnwind your bloody Flagge,
    Looke back into your mightie Ancestors:
    Goe my dread Lord, to your great Grandsires Tombe,
    From whom you clayme; inuoke his Warlike Spirit,
    And your Great Vnckles, Edward the Black Prince,
    Who on the French ground play'd a Tragedie,
    Making defeat on the full Power of France:
    Whiles his most mightie Father on a Hill
    Stood smiling, to behold his Lyons Whelpe
    Forrage in blood of French Nobilitie.
    O Noble English, that could entertaine
    With halfe their Forces, the full pride of France,
    And let another halfe stand laughing by,
    All out of worke, and cold for action


       Bish. Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
    And with your puissant Arme renew their Feats;
    You are their Heire, you sit vpon their Throne:
    The Blood and Courage that renowned them,
    Runs in your Veines: and my thrice-puissant Liege
    Is in the very May-Morne of his Youth,
    Ripe for Exploits and mightie Enterprises


       Exe. Your Brother Kings and Monarchs of the Earth
    Doe all expect, that you should rowse your selfe,
    As did the former Lyons of your Blood


       West. They know your Grace hath cause, and means, and might;
    So hath your Highnesse: neuer King of England
    Had Nobles richer, and more loyall Subiects,
    Whose hearts haue left their bodyes here in England,
    And lye pauillion'd in the fields of France


       Bish.Can. O let their bodyes follow my deare Liege
    With Bloods, and Sword and Fire, to win your Right:
    In ayde whereof, we of the Spiritualtie
    Will rayse your Highnesse such a mightie Summe,
    As neuer did the Clergie at one time
    Bring in to any of your Ancestors


       King. We must not onely arme t' inuade the French,
    But lay downe our proportions, to defend
    Against the Scot, who will make roade vpon vs,
    With all aduantages


       Bish.Can. They of those Marches, gracious Soueraign,
    Shall be a Wall sufficient to defend
    Our in-land from the pilfering Borderers


       King. We do not meane the coursing snatchers onely,
    But feare the maine intendment of the Scot,
    Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to vs:
    For you shall reade, that my great Grandfather
    Neuer went with his forces into France,
    But that the Scot, on his vnfurnisht Kingdome,
    Came pouring like the Tyde into a breach,
    With ample and brim fulnesse of his force,
    Galling the gleaned Land with hot Assayes,
    Girding with grieuous siege, Castles and Townes:
    That England being emptie of defence,
    Hath shooke and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood


       B.Can. She hath bin the[n] more fear'd the[n] harm'd, my Liege:
    For heare her but exampl'd by her selfe,
    When all her Cheualrie hath been in France,
    And shee a mourning Widdow of her Nobles,
    Shee hath her selfe not onely well defended,
    But taken and impounded as a Stray,
    The King of Scots: whom shee did send to France,
    To fill King Edwards fame with prisoner Kings,
    And make their Chronicle as rich with prayse,
    As is the Owse and bottome of the Sea
    With sunken Wrack, and sum-lesse Treasuries


       Bish.Ely. But there's a saying very old and true,
    If that you will France win, then with Scotland first begin.
    For once the Eagle (England) being in prey,
    To her vnguarded Nest, the Weazell (Scot)
    Comes sneaking, and so sucks her Princely Egges,
    Playing the Mouse in absence of the Cat,
    To tame and hauocke more then she can eate


       Exet. It followes then, the Cat must stay at home,
    Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
    Since we haue lockes to safegard necessaries,
    And pretty traps to catch the petty theeues.
    While that the Armed hand doth fight abroad,
    Th' aduised head defends it selfe at home:
    For Gouernment, though high, and low, and lower,
    Put into parts, doth keepe in one consent,
    Congreeing in a full and natural close,
    Like Musicke


       Cant. Therefore doth heauen diuide
    The state of man in diuers functions,
    Setting endeuour in continual motion:
    To which is fixed as an ayme or butt,
    Obedience: for so worke the Hony Bees,
    Creatures that by a rule in Nature teach
    The Act of Order to a peopled Kingdome.
    They haue a King, and Officers of sorts,
    Where some like Magistrates correct at home:
    Others, like Merchants venter Trade abroad:
    Others, like Souldiers armed in their stings,
    Make boote vpon the Summers Veluet buddes:
    Which pillage, they with merry march bring home
    To the Tent-royal of their Emperor:
    Who busied in his Maiesties surueyes
    The singing Masons building roofes of Gold,
    The ciuil Citizens kneading vp the hony;
    The poore Mechanicke Porters, crowding in
    Their heauy burthens at his narrow gate:
    The sad-ey'd Iustice with his surly humme,
    Deliuering ore to Executors pale
    The lazie yawning Drone: I this inferre,
    That many things hauing full reference
    To one consent, may worke contrariously,
    As many Arrowes loosed seuerall wayes
    Come to one marke: as many wayes meet in one towne,
    As many fresh streames meet in one salt sea;
    As many Lynes close in the Dials center:
    So may a thousand actions once a foote,
    And in one purpose, and be all well borne
    Without defeat. Therefore to France, my Liege,
    Diuide your happy England into foure,
    Whereof, take you one quarter into France,
    And you withall shall make all Gallia shake.
    If we with thrice such powers left at home,
    Cannot defend our owne doores from the dogge,
    Let vs be worried, and our Nation lose
    The name of hardinesse and policie


       King. Call in the Messengers sent from the Dolphin.
    Now are we well resolu'd, and by Gods helpe
    And yours, the noble sinewes of our power,
    France being ours, wee'l bend it to our Awe,
    Or breake it all to peeces. Or there wee'l sit,
    (Ruling in large and ample Emperie,
    Ore France, and all her (almost) Kingly Dukedomes)
    Or lay these bones in an vnworthy Vrne,
    Tomblesse, with no remembrance ouer them:
    Either our History shall with full mouth
    Speake freely of our Acts, or else our graue
    Like Turkish mute, shall haue a tonguelesse mouth,
    Not worshipt with a waxen Epitaph.
    Enter Ambassadors of France.


    Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
    Of our faire Cosin Dolphin: for we heare,
    Your greeting is from him, not from the King


       Amb. May't please your Maiestie to giue vs leaue
    Freely to render what we haue in charge:
    Or shall we sparingly shew you farre off
    The Dolphins meaning, and our Embassie


       King. We are no Tyrant, but a Christian King,
    Vnto whose grace our passion is as subiect
    As is our wretches fettred in our prisons,
    Therefore with franke and with vncurbed plainnesse,
    Tell vs the Dolphins minde


       Amb. Thus than in few:
    Your Highnesse lately sending into France,
    Did claime some certaine Dukedomes, in the right
    Of your great Predecessor, King Edward the third.
    In answer of which claime, the Prince our Master
    Sayes, that you sauour too much of your youth,
    And bids you be aduis'd: There's nought in France,
    That can be with a nimble Galliard wonne:
    You cannot reuell into Dukedomes there.
    He therefore sends you meeter for your spirit
    This Tun of Treasure; and in lieu of this,
    Desires you let the dukedomes that you claime
    Heare no more of you. This the Dolphin speakes


       King. What Treasure Vncle?
      Exe. Tennis balles, my Liege


       Kin. We are glad the Dolphin is so pleasant with vs,
    His Present, and your paines we thanke you for:
    When we haue matcht our Rackets to these Balles,
    We will in France (by Gods grace) play a set,
    Shall strike his fathers Crowne into the hazard.
    Tell him, he hath made a match with such a Wrangler,
    That all the Courts of France will be disturb'd
    With Chaces. And we vnderstand him well,
    How he comes o're vs with our wilder dayes,
    Not measuring what vse we made of them.
    We neuer valew'd this poore seate of England,
    And therefore liuing hence, did giue our selfe
    To barbarous license: As 'tis euer common,
    That men are merriest, when they are from home.
    But tell the Dolphin, I will keepe my State,
    Be like a King, and shew my sayle of Greatnesse,
    When I do rowse me in my Throne of France.
    For that I haue layd by my Maiestie,
    And plodded like a man for working dayes:
    But I will rise there with so full a glorie,
    That I will dazle all the eyes of France,
    Yea strike the Dolphin blinde to looke on vs,
    And tell the pleasant Prince, this Mocke of his
    Hath turn'd his balles to Gun-stones, and his soule
    Shall stand sore charged, for the wastefull vengeance
    That shall flye with them: for many a thousand widows
    Shall this his Mocke, mocke out of their deer husbands;
    Mocke mothers from their sonnes, mock Castles downe:
    And some are yet vngotten and vnborne,
    That shal haue cause to curse the Dolphins scorne.
    But this lyes all within the wil of God,
    To whom I do appeale, and in whose name
    Tel you the Dolphin, I am comming on,
    To venge me as I may, and to put forth
    My rightfull hand in a wel-hallow'd cause.
    So get you hence in peace: And tell the Dolphin,
    His Iest will sauour but of shallow wit,
    When thousands weepe more then did laugh at it.
    Conuey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.


    Exeunt. Ambassadors.


      Exe. This was a merry Message


       King. We hope to make the Sender blush at it:
    Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy howre,
    That may giue furth'rance to our Expedition:
    For we haue now no thought in vs but France,
    Saue those to God, that runne before our businesse.
    Therefore let our proportions for these Warres
    Be soone collected, and all things thought vpon,
    That may with reasonable swiftnesse adde
    More Feathers to our Wings: for God before,
    Wee'le chide this Dolphin at his fathers doore.
    Therefore let euery man now taske his thought,
    That this faire Action may on foot be brought.


    Exeunt.


    Flourish. Enter Chorus.


    Now all the Youth of England are on fire,
    And silken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lyes:
    Now thriue the Armorers, and Honors thought
    Reignes solely in the breast of euery man.
    They sell the Pasture now, to buy the Horse;
    Following the Mirror of all Christian Kings,
    With winged heeles, as English Mercuries.
    For now sits Expectation in the Ayre,
    And hides a Sword, from Hilts vnto the Point,
    With Crownes Imperiall, Crownes and Coronets,
    Promis'd to Harry, and his followers.
    The French aduis'd by good intelligence
    Of this most dreadfull preparation,
    Shake in their feare, and with pale Pollicy
    Seeke to diuert the English purposes.
    O England: Modell to thy inward Greatnesse,
    Like little Body with a mightie Heart:
    What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do,
    Were all thy children kinde and naturall:
    But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out,
    A nest of hollow bosomes, which he filles
    With treacherous Crownes, and three corrupted men:
    One, Richard Earle of Cambridge, and the second
    Henry Lord Scroope of Masham, and the third
    Sir Thomas Grey Knight of Northumberland,
    Haue for the Gilt of France (O guilt indeed)
    Confirm'd Conspiracy with fearefull France,
    And by their hands, this grace of Kings must dye.
    If Hell and Treason hold their promises,
    Ere he take ship for France; and in Southampton.
    Linger your patience on, and wee'l digest
    Th' abuse of distance; force a play:
    The summe is payde, the Traitors are agreed,
    The King is set from London, and the Scene
    Is now transported (Gentles) to Southampton,
    There is the Play-house now, there must you sit,
    And thence to France shall we conuey you safe,
    And bring you backe: Charming the narrow seas
    To giue you gentle Passe: for if we may,
    Wee'l not offend one stomacke with our Play.
    But till the King come forth, and not till then,
    Vnto Southampton do we shift our Scene.


    Exit


    Enter Corporall Nym, and Lieutenant Bardolfe.


      Bar. Well met Corporall Nym


       Nym. Good morrow Lieutenant Bardolfe


       Bar. What, are Ancient Pistoll and you friends yet?
      Nym. For my part, I care not: I say little: but when
    time shall serue, there shall be smiles, but that shall be as
    it may. I dare not fight, but I will winke and holde out
    mine yron: it is a simple one, but what though? It will
    toste Cheese, and it will endure cold, as another mans
    sword will: and there's an end


       Bar. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friendes,
    and wee'l bee all three sworne brothers to France: Let't
    be so good Corporall Nym


       Nym. Faith, I will liue so long as I may, that's the certaine
    of it: and when I cannot liue any longer, I will doe
    as I may: That is my rest, that is the rendeuous of it


       Bar. It is certaine Corporall, that he is marryed to
    Nell Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you
    were troth-plight to her


       Nym. I cannot tell, Things must be as they may: men
    may sleepe, and they may haue their throats about them
    at that time, and some say, kniues haue edges: It must
    be as it may, though patience be a tyred name, yet shee
    will plodde, there must be Conclusions, well, I cannot
    tell.
    Enter Pistoll, &Quickly.


      Bar. Heere comes Ancient Pistoll and his wife: good
    Corporall be patient heere. How now mine Hoaste Pistoll?
      Pist. Base Tyke, cal'st thou mee Hoste, now by this
    hand I sweare I scorne the terme: nor shall my Nel keep
    Lodgers


       Host. No by my troth, not long: For we cannot lodge
    and board a dozen or fourteene Gentlewomen that liue
    honestly by the pricke of their Needles, but it will bee
    thought we keepe a Bawdy-house straight. O welliday
    Lady, if he be not hewne now, we shall see wilful adultery
    and murther committed


       Bar. Good Lieutenant, good Corporal offer nothing
    heere


       Nym. Pish


       Pist. Pish for thee, Island dogge: thou prickeard cur
    of Island


       Host. Good Corporall Nym shew thy valor, and put
    vp your sword


       Nym. Will you shogge off? I would haue you solus


       Pist. Solus, egregious dog? O Viper vile; The solus
    in thy most meruailous face, the solus in thy teeth, and
    in thy throate, and in thy hatefull Lungs, yea in thy Maw
    perdy; and which is worse, within thy nastie mouth. I
    do retort the solus in thy bowels, for I can take, and Pistols
    cocke is vp, and flashing fire will follow


       Nym. I am not Barbason, you cannot coniure mee: I
    haue an humor to knocke you indifferently well: If you
    grow fowle with me Pistoll, I will scoure you with my
    Rapier, as I may, in fayre tearmes. If you would walke
    off, I would pricke your guts a little in good tearmes, as
    I may, and that's the humor of it


       Pist. O Braggard vile, and damned furious wight,
    The Graue doth gape, and doting death is neere,
    Therefore exhale


       Bar. Heare me, heare me what I say: Hee that strikes
    the first stroake, Ile run him vp to the hilts, as I am a soldier


       Pist. An oath of mickle might, and fury shall abate.
    Giue me thy fist, thy fore-foote to me giue: Thy spirites
    are most tall


       Nym. I will cut thy throate one time or other in faire
    termes, that is the humor of it


       Pistoll. Couple a gorge, that is the word. I defie thee againe.
    O hound of Creet, think'st thou my spouse to get?
    No, to the spittle goe, and from the Poudring tub of infamy,
    fetch forth the Lazar Kite of Cressids kinde, Doll
    Teare-sheete, she by name, and her espouse. I haue, and I
    will hold the Quondam Quickely for the onely shee: and
    Pauca, there's enough to go to.
    Enter the Boy.


      Boy. Mine Hoast Pistoll, you must come to my Mayster,
    and your Hostesse: He is very sicke, &would to bed.
    Good Bardolfe, put thy face betweene his sheets, and do
    the Office of a Warming-pan: Faith, he's very ill


       Bard. Away you Rogue


       Host. By my troth he'l yeeld the Crow a pudding one
    of these dayes: the King has kild his heart. Good Husband
    come home presently.


    Exit


      Bar. Come, shall I make you two friends. Wee must
    to France together: why the diuel should we keep kniues
    to cut one anothers throats?
      Pist. Let floods ore-swell, and fiends for food howle
    on


       Nym. You'l pay me the eight shillings I won of you
    at Betting?
      Pist. Base is the Slaue that payes


       Nym. That now I wil haue: that's the humor of it


       Pist. As manhood shal compound: push home.


    Draw


      Bard. By this sword, hee that makes the first thrust,
    Ile kill him: By this sword, I wil


       Pi. Sword is an Oath, &Oaths must haue their course
      Bar. Coporall Nym, &thou wilt be friends be frends,
    and thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me to: prethee
    put vp


       Pist. A Noble shalt thou haue, and present pay, and
    Liquor likewise will I giue to thee, and friendshippe
    shall combyne, and brotherhood. Ile liue by Nymme, Nymme shall liue by me, is not this iust? For I shal Sutler
    be vnto the Campe, and profits will accrue. Giue mee
    thy hand


       Nym. I shall haue my Noble?
      Pist. In cash, most iustly payd


       Nym. Well, then that the humor of't.
    Enter Hostesse.


      Host. As euer you come of women, come in quickly
    to sir Iohn: A poore heart, hee is so shak'd of a burning
    quotidian Tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold.
    Sweet men, come to him


       Nym. The King hath run bad humors on the Knight,
    that's the euen of it


       Pist. Nym, thou hast spoke the right, his heart is fracted
    and corroborate


       Nym. The King is a good King, but it must bee as it
    may: he passes some humors, and carreeres


       Pist. Let vs condole the Knight, for (Lambekins) we
    will liue.
    Enter Exeter, Bedford, &Westmerland.


      Bed. Fore God his Grace is bold to trust these traitors
      Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by


       West. How smooth and euen they do bear themselues,
    As if allegeance in their bosomes sate
    Crowned with faith, and constant loyalty


       Bed. The King hath note of all that they intend,
    By interception, which they dreame not of


       Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
    Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious fauours;
    That he should for a forraigne purse, so sell
    His Soueraignes life to death and treachery.


    Sound Trumpets.


    Enter the King, Scroope, Cambridge, and Gray.


      King. Now sits the winde faire, and we will aboord.
    My Lord of Cambridge, and my kinde Lord of Masham,
    And you my gentle Knight, giue me your thoughts:
    Thinke you not that the powres we beare with vs
    Will cut their passage through the force of France?
    Doing the execution, and the acte,
    For which we haue in head assembled them


       Scro. No doubt my Liege, if each man do his best


       King. I doubt not that, since we are well perswaded
    We carry not a heart with vs from hence,
    That growes not in a faire consent with ours:
    Nor leaue not one behinde, that doth not wish
    Successe and Conquest to attend on vs


       Cam. Neuer was Monarch better fear'd and lou'd,
    Then is your Maiesty; there's not I thinke a subiect
    That sits in heart-greefe and vneasinesse
    Vnder the sweet shade of your gouernment


       Kni. True: those that were your Fathers enemies,
    Haue steep'd their gauls in hony, and do serue you
    With hearts create of duty, and of zeale


       King. We therefore haue great cause of thankfulnes,
    And shall forget the office of our hand
    Sooner then quittance of desert and merit,
    According to the weight and worthinesse


       Scro. So seruice shall with steeled sinewes toyle,
    And labour shall refresh it selfe with hope
    To do your Grace incessant seruices


       King. We Iudge no lesse. Vnkle of Exeter,
    Inlarge the man committed yesterday,
    That rayl'd against our person: We consider
    It was excesse of Wine that set him on,
    And on his more aduice, We pardon him


       Scro. That's mercy, but too much security:
    Let him be punish'd Soueraigne, least example
    Breed (by his sufferance) more of such a kind


       King. O let vs yet be mercifull


       Cam. So may your Highnesse, and yet punish too


       Grey. Sir, you shew great mercy if you giue him life,
    After the taste of much correction


       King. Alas, your too much loue and care of me,
    Are heauy Orisons 'gainst this poore wretch:
    If little faults proceeding on distemper,
    Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye
    When capitall crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
    Appeare before vs? Wee'l yet inlarge that man,
    Though Cambridge, Scroope, and Gray, in their deere care
    And tender preseruation of our person
    Wold haue him punish'd. And now to our French causes,
    Who are the late Commissioners?
      Cam. I one my Lord,
    Your Highnesse bad me aske for it to day


       Scro. So did you me my Liege


       Gray. And I my Royall Soueraigne


       King. Then Richard Earle of Cambridge, there is yours:
    There yours Lord Scroope of Masham, and Sir Knight:
    Gray of Northumberland, this same is yours:
    Reade them, and know I know your worthinesse.
    My Lord of Westmerland, and Vnkle Exeter,
    We will aboord to night. Why how now Gentlemen?
    What see you in those papers, that you loose
    So much complexion? Looke ye how they change:
    Their cheekes are paper. Why, what reade you there,
    That haue so cowarded and chac'd your blood
    Out of apparance


       Cam. I do confesse my fault,
    And do submit me to your Highnesse mercy


       Gray. Scro. To which we all appeale


       King. The mercy that was quicke in vs but late,
    By your owne counsaile is supprest and kill'd:
    You must not dare (for shame) to talke of mercy,
    For your owne reasons turne into your bosomes,
    As dogs vpon their maisters, worrying you:
    See you my Princes, and my Noble Peeres,
    These English monsters: My Lord of Cambridge heere,
    You know how apt our loue was, to accord
    To furnish with all appertinents
    Belonging to his Honour; and this man,
    Hath for a few light Crownes, lightly conspir'd
    And sworne vnto the practises of France
    To kill vs heere in Hampton. To the which,
    This Knight no lesse for bounty bound to Vs
    Then Cambridge is, hath likewise sworne. But O,
    What shall I say to thee Lord Scroope, thou cruell,
    Ingratefull, sauage, and inhumane Creature?
    Thou that didst beare the key of all my counsailes,
    That knew'st the very bottome of my soule,
    That (almost) might'st haue coyn'd me into Golde,
    Would'st thou haue practis'd on me, for thy vse?
    May it be possible, that forraigne hyer
    Could out of thee extract one sparke of euill
    That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange,
    That though the truth of it stands off as grosse
    As black and white, my eye will scarsely see it.
    Treason, and murther, euer kept together,
    As two yoake diuels sworne to eythers purpose,
    Working so grossely in an naturall cause,
    That admiration did not hoope at them.
    But thou (gainst all proportion) didst bring in
    Wonder to waite on treason, and on murther:
    And whatsoeuer cunning fiend it was
    That wrought vpon thee so preposterously,
    Hath got the voyce in hell for excellence:
    And other diuels that suggest by treasons,
    Do botch and bungle vp damnation,
    With patches, colours, and with formes being fetcht
    From glist'ring semblances of piety:
    But he that temper'd thee, bad thee stand vp,
    Gaue thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
    Vnlesse to dub thee with the name of Traitor.
    If that same Daemon that hath gull'd thee thus,
    Should with his Lyon-gate walke the whole world,
    He might returne to vastie Tartar backe,
    And tell the Legions, I can neuer win
    A soule so easie as that Englishmans.
    Oh, how hast thou with iealousie infected
    The sweetnesse of affiance? Shew men dutifull,
    Why so didst thou: seeme they graue and learned?
    Why so didst thou. Come they of Noble Family?
    Why so didst thou. Seeme they religious?
    Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
    Free from grosse passion, or of mirth, or anger,
    Constant in spirit, not sweruing with the blood,
    Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
    Not working with the eye, without the eare,
    And but in purged iudgement trusting neither,
    Such and so finely boulted didst thou seeme:
    And thus thy fall hath left a kinde of blot,
    To make thee full fraught man, and best indued
    With some suspition, I will weepe for thee.
    For this reuolt of thine, me thinkes is like
    Another fall of Man. Their faults are open,
    Arrest them to the answer of the Law,
    And God acquit them of their practises


       Exe. I arrest thee of High Treason, by the name of
    Richard Earle of Cambridge.
    I arrest thee of High Treason, by the name of Thomas
    Lord Scroope of Marsham.
    I arrest thee of High Treason, by the name of Thomas
    Grey, Knight of Northumberland


       Scro. Our purposes, God iustly hath discouer'd,
    And I repent my fault more then my death,
    Which I beseech your Highnesse to forgiue,
    Although my body pay the price of it


       Cam. For me, the Gold of France did not seduce,
    Although I did admit it as a motiue,
    The sooner to effect what I intended:
    But God be thanked for preuention,
    Which in sufferance heartily will reioyce,
    Beseeching God, and you, to pardon mee


       Gray. Neuer did faithfull subiect more reioyce
    At the discouery of most dangerous Treason,
    Then I do at this houre ioy ore my selfe,
    Preuented from a damned enterprize;
    My fault, but not my body, pardon Soueraigne


       King. God quit you in his mercy: Hear your sentence
    You haue conspir'd against Our Royall person,
    Ioyn'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his Coffers,
    Receyu'd the Golden Earnest of Our death:
    Wherein you would haue sold your King to slaughter,
    His Princes, and his Peeres to seruitude,
    His Subiects to oppression, and contempt,
    And his whole Kingdome into desolation:
    Touching our person, seeke we no reuenge,
    But we our Kingdomes safety must so tender,
    Whose ruine you sought, that to her Lawes
    We do deliuer you. Get you therefore hence,
    (Poore miserable wretches) to your death:
    The taste whereof, God of his mercy giue
    You patience to indure, and true Repentance
    Of all your deare offences. Beare them hence.
    Enter.


    Now Lords for France: the enterprise whereof
    Shall be to you as vs, like glorious.
    We doubt not of a faire and luckie Warre,
    Since God so graciously hath brought to light
    This dangerous Treason, lurking in our way,
    To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now,
    But euery Rubbe is smoothed on our way.
    Then forth, deare Countreymen: Let vs deliuer
    Our Puissance into the hand of God,
    Putting it straight in expedition.
    Chearely to Sea, the signes of Warre aduance,
    No King of England, if not King of France.


    Flourish.


    Enter Pistoll, Nim, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostesse.


      Hostesse. 'Prythee honey sweet Husband, let me bring
    thee to Staines


       Pistoll. No: for my manly heart doth erne. Bardolph,
    be blythe: Nim, rowse thy vaunting Veines: Boy, brissle
    thy Courage vp: for Falstaffe hee is dead, and wee must
    erne therefore


       Bard. Would I were with him, wheresomere hee is,
    eyther in Heauen, or in Hell


       Hostesse. Nay sure, hee's not in Hell: hee's in Arthurs
    Bosome, if euer man went to Arthurs Bosome: a made a
    finer end, and went away and it had beene any Christome
    Childe: a parted eu'n iust betweene Twelue and One, eu'n
    at the turning o'th' Tyde: for after I saw him fumble with
    the Sheets, and play with Flowers, and smile vpon his fingers
    end, I knew there was but one way: for his Nose was
    as sharpe as a Pen, and a Table of greene fields. How now
    Sir Iohn (quoth I?) what man? be a good cheare: so a
    cryed out, God, God, God, three or foure times: now I,
    to comfort him, bid him a should not thinke of God; I
    hop'd there was no neede to trouble himselfe with any
    such thoughts yet: so a bad me lay more Clothes on his
    feet: I put my hand into the Bed, and felt them, and they
    were as cold as any stone: then I felt to his knees, and so
    vp-peer'd, and vpward, and all was as cold as any stone


       Nim. They say he cryed out of Sack


       Hostesse. I, that a did


       Bard. And of Women


       Hostesse. Nay, that a did not


       Boy. Yes that a did, and said they were Deules incarnate


       Woman. A could neuer abide Carnation, 'twas a Colour
    he neuer lik'd


       Boy. A said once, the Deule would haue him about
    Women


       Hostesse. A did in some sort (indeed) handle Women:
    but then hee was rumatique, and talk'd of the Whore of
    Babylon


       Boy. Doe you not remember a saw a Flea sticke vpon
    Bardolphs Nose, and a said it was a blacke Soule burning
    in Hell


       Bard. Well, the fuell is gone that maintain'd that fire:
    that's all the Riches I got in his seruice


       Nim. Shall wee shogg? the King will be gone from
    Southampton


       Pist. Come, let's away. My Loue, giue me thy Lippes:
    Looke to my Chattels, and my Moueables: Let Sences
    rule: The world is, Pitch and pay: trust none: for Oathes
    are Strawes, mens Faiths are Wafer-Cakes, and hold-fast
    is the onely Dogge: My Ducke, therefore Caueto bee
    thy Counsailor. Goe, cleare thy Chrystalls. Yokefellowes
    in Armes, let vs to France, like Horseleeches
    my Boyes, to sucke, to sucke, the very blood to
    sucke


       Boy. And that's but vnwholesome food, they say


       Pist. Touch her soft mouth, and march


       Bard. Farwell Hostesse


       Nim. I cannot kisse, that is the humor of it: but
    adieu


       Pist. Let Huswiferie appeare: keepe close, I thee
    command


       Hostesse. Farwell: adieu.


    Exeunt.


    Flourish.


    Enter the French King, the Dolphin, the Dukes of Berry and
    Britaine.


      King. Thus comes the English with full power vpon vs,
    And more then carefully it vs concernes,
    To answer Royally in our defences.
    Therefore the Dukes of Berry and of Britaine,
    Of Brabant and of Orleance, shall make forth,
    And you Prince Dolphin, with all swift dispatch
    To lyne and new repayre our Townes of Warre
    With men of courage, and with meanes defendant:
    For England his approaches makes as fierce,
    As Waters to the sucking of a Gulfe.
    It fits vs then to be as prouident,
    As feare may teach vs, out of late examples
    Left by the fatall and neglected English,
    Vpon our fields


       Dolphin. My most redoubted Father,
    It is most meet we arme vs 'gainst the Foe:
    For Peace it selfe should not so dull a Kingdome,
    (Though War nor no knowne Quarrel were in question)
    But that Defences, Musters, Preparations,
    Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected,
    As were a Warre in expectation.
    Therefore I say, 'tis meet we all goe forth,
    To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
    And let vs doe it with no shew of feare,
    No, with no more, then if we heard that England
    Were busied with a Whitson Morris-dance:
    For, my good Liege, shee is so idly King'd,
    Her Scepter so phantastically borne,
    By a vaine giddie shallow humorous Youth,
    That feare attends her not


       Const. O peace, Prince Dolphin,
    You are too much mistaken in this King:
    Question your Grace the late Embassadors,
    With what great State he heard their Embassie,
    How well supply'd with Noble Councellors,
    How modest in exception; and withall,
    How terrible in constant resolution:
    And you shall find, his Vanities fore-spent,
    Were but the out-side of the Roman Brutus,
    Couering Discretion with a Coat of Folly;
    As Gardeners doe with Ordure hide those Roots
    That shall first spring, and be most delicate


       Dolphin. Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable.
    But though we thinke it so, it is no matter:
    In cases of defence, 'tis best to weigh
    The Enemie more mightie then he seemes,
    So the proportions of defence are fill'd:
    Which of a weake and niggardly proiection,
    Doth like a Miser spoyle his Coat, with scanting
    A little Cloth


       King. Thinke we King Harry strong:
    And Princes, looke you strongly arme to meet him.
    The Kindred of him hath beene flesht vpon vs:
    And he is bred out of that bloodie straine,
    That haunted vs in our familiar Pathes:
    Witnesse our too much memorable shame,
    When Cressy Battell fatally was strucke,
    And all our Princes captiu'd, by the hand
    Of that black Name, Edward, black Prince of Wales:
    Whiles that his Mountaine Sire, on Mountaine standing
    Vp in the Ayre, crown'd with the Golden Sunne,
    Saw his Heroicall Seed, and smil'd to see him
    Mangle the Worke of Nature, and deface
    The Patternes, that by God and by French Fathers
    Had twentie yeeres been made. This is a Stem
    Of that Victorious Stock: and let vs feare
    The Natiue mightinesse and fate of him.
    Enter a Messenger.


      Mess. Embassadors from Harry King of England,
    Doe craue admittance to your Maiestie


       King. Weele giue them present audience.
    Goe, and bring them.
    You see this Chase is hotly followed, friends


       Dolphin. Turne head, and stop pursuit: for coward Dogs
    Most spend their mouths, whe[n] what they seem to threaten
    Runs farre before them. Good my Soueraigne
    Take vp the English short, and let them know
    Of what a Monarchie you are the Head:
    Selfe-loue, my Liege, is not so vile a sinne,
    As selfe-neglecting.
    Enter Exeter.


      King. From our Brother of England?
      Exe. From him, and thus he greets your Maiestie:
    He wills you in the Name of God Almightie,
    That you deuest your selfe, and lay apart
    The borrowed Glories, that by gift of Heauen,
    By Law of Nature, and of Nations, longs
    To him and to his Heires, namely, the Crowne,
    And all wide-stretched Honors, that pertaine
    By Custome, and the Ordinance of Times,
    Vnto the Crowne of France: that you may know
    'Tis no sinister, nor no awkward Clayme,
    Pickt from the worme-holes of long-vanisht dayes,
    Nor from the dust of old Obliuion rakt,
    He sends you this most memorable Lyne,
    In euery Branch truly demonstratiue;
    Willing you ouer-looke this Pedigree:
    And when you find him euenly deriu'd
    From his most fam'd, of famous Ancestors,
    Edward the third; he bids you then resigne
    Your Crowne and Kingdome, indirectly held
    From him, the Natiue and true Challenger


       King. Or else what followes?
      Exe. Bloody constraint: for if you hide the Crowne
    Euen in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
    Therefore in fierce Tempest is he comming,
    In Thunder and in Earth-quake, like a Ioue:
    That if requiring faile, he will compell.
    And bids you, in the Bowels of the Lord,
    Deliuer vp the Crowne, and to take mercie
    On the poore Soules, for whom this hungry Warre
    Opens his vastie Iawes: and on your head
    Turning the Widdowes Teares, the Orphans Cryes,
    The dead-mens Blood, the priuy Maidens Groanes,
    For Husbands, Fathers, and betrothed Louers,
    That shall be swallowed in this Controuersie.
    This is his Clayme, his Threatning, and my Message:
    Vnlesse the Dolphin be in presence here;
    To whom expressely I bring greeting to


       King. For vs, we will consider of this further:
    To morrow shall you beare our full intent
    Back to our Brother of England


       Dolph. For the Dolphin,
    I stand here for him: what to him from England?
      Exe. Scorne and defiance, sleight regard, contempt,
    And any thing that may not mis-become
    The mightie Sender, doth he prize you at.
    Thus sayes my King: and if your Fathers Highnesse
    Doe not, in graunt of all demands at large,
    Sweeten the bitter Mock you sent his Maiestie;
    Hee'le call you to so hot an Answer of it,
    That Caues and Wombie Vaultages of France
    Shall chide your Trespas, and returne your Mock
    In second Accent of his Ordinance


       Dolph. Say: if my Father render faire returne,
    It is against my will: for I desire
    Nothing but Oddes with England.
    To that end, as matching to his Youth and Vanitie,
    I did present him with the Paris-Balls


       Exe. Hee'le make your Paris Louer shake for it,
    Were it the Mistresse Court of mightie Europe:
    And be assur'd, you'le find a diff'rence,
    As we his Subiects haue in wonder found,
    Betweene the promise of his greener dayes,
    And these he masters now: now he weighes Time
    Euen to the vtmost Graine: that you shall reade
    In your owne Losses, if he stay in France


       King. To morrow shall you know our mind at full.


    Flourish.


      Exe. Dispatch vs with all speed, least that our King
    Come here himselfe to question our delay;
    For he is footed in this Land already


       King. You shalbe soone dispatcht, with faire conditions.
    A Night is but small breathe, and little pawse,
    To answer matters of this consequence.


    Exeunt.


    Actus Secundus.


    Flourish. Enter Chorus.


    Thus with imagin'd wing our swift Scene flyes,
    In motion of no lesse celeritie then that of Thought.
    Suppose, that you haue seene
    The well-appointed King at Douer Peer,
    Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet,
    With silken Streamers, the young Phebus fayning;
    Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
    Vpon the Hempen Tackle, Ship-boyes climbing;
    Heare the shrill Whistle, which doth order giue
    To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles,
    Borne with th' inuisible and creeping Wind,
    Draw the huge Bottomes through the furrowed Sea,
    Bresting the loftie Surge. O, doe but thinke
    You stand vpon the Riuage, and behold
    A Citie on th' inconstant Billowes dauncing:
    For so appeares this Fleet Maiesticall,
    Holding due course to Harflew. Follow, follow:
    Grapple your minds to sternage of this Nauie,
    And leaue your England as dead Mid-night, still,
    Guarded with Grandsires, Babyes, and old Women,
    Eyther past, or not arriu'd to pyth and puissance:
    For who is he, whose Chin is but enricht
    With one appearing Hayre, that will not follow
    These cull'd and choyse-drawne Caualiers to France?
    Worke, worke your Thoughts, and therein see a Siege:
    Behold the Ordenance on their Carriages,
    With fatall mouthes gaping on girded Harflew.
    Suppose th' Embassador from the French comes back:
    Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him
    Katherine his Daughter, and with her to Dowrie,
    Some petty and vnprofitable Dukedomes.
    The offer likes not: and the nimble Gunner
    With Lynstock now the diuellish Cannon touches,


    Alarum, and Chambers goe off.


    And downe goes all before them. Still be kind,
    And eech out our performance with your mind.
    Enter.


    Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester. Alarum: Scaling
    Ladders
    at Harflew.


      King. Once more vnto the Breach,
    Deare friends, once more;
    Or close the Wall vp with our English dead:
    In Peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
    As modest stillnesse, and humilitie:
    But when the blast of Warre blowes in our eares,
    Then imitate the action of the Tyger:
    Stiffen the sinewes, commune vp the blood,
    Disguise faire Nature with hard-fauour'd Rage:
    Then lend the Eye a terrible aspect:
    Let it pry through the portage of the Head,
    Like the Brasse Cannon: let the Brow o'rewhelme it,
    As fearefully, as doth a galled Rocke
    O're-hang and iutty his confounded Base,
    Swill'd with the wild and wastfull Ocean.
    Now set the Teeth, and stretch the Nosthrill wide,
    Hold hard the Breath, and bend vp euery Spirit
    To his full height. On, on, you Noblish English,
    Whose blood is fet from Fathers of Warre-proofe:
    Fathers, that like so many Alexanders,
    Haue in these parts from Morne till Euen fought,
    And sheath'd their Swords, for lack of argument.
    Dishonour not your Mothers: now attest,
    That those whom you call'd Fathers, did beget you.
    Be Coppy now to men of grosser blood,
    And teach them how to Warre. And you good Yeomen,
    Whose Lyms were made in England; shew vs here
    The mettell of your Pasture: let vs sweare,
    That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not:
    For there is none of you so meane and base,
    That hath not Noble luster in your eyes.
    I see you stand like Grey-hounds in the slips,
    Straying vpon the Start. The Game's afoot:
    Follow your Spirit; and vpon this Charge,
    Cry, God for Harry, England, and S[aint]. George.


    Alarum, and Chambers goe off.


    Enter Nim, Bardolph, Pistoll, and Boy.


      Bard. On, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach


       Nim. 'Pray thee Corporall stay, the Knocks are too
    hot: and for mine owne part, I haue not a Case of Liues:
    the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plaine-Song
    of it


       Pist. The plaine-Song is most iust: for humors doe abound:
    Knocks goe and come: Gods Vassals drop and
    dye: and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth winne
    immortall fame


       Boy. Would I were in a Ale-house in London, I
    would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and safetie


       Pist. And I: If wishes would preuayle with me, my
    purpose should not fayle with me; but thither would I
    high


       Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth sing on
    bough.
    Enter Fluellen.


      Flu. Vp to the breach, you Dogges; auaunt you
    Cullions


       Pist. Be mercifull great Duke to men of Mould: abate
    thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage,
    great Duke. Good Bawcock bate thy Rage: vse lenitie
    sweet Chuck


       Nim. These be good humors: your Honor wins bad
    humors.
    Enter.


      Boy. As young as I am, I haue obseru'd these three
    Swashers: I am Boy to them all three, but all they three,
    though they would serue me, could not be Man to me;
    for indeed three such Antiques doe not amount to a man:
    for Bardolph, hee is white-liuer'd, and red-fac'd; by the
    meanes whereof, a faces it out, but fights not: for Pistoll,
    hee hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the
    meanes whereof, a breakes Words, and keepes whole
    Weapons: for Nim, hee hath heard, that men of few
    Words are the best men, and therefore hee scornes to say
    his Prayers, lest a should be thought a Coward: but his
    few bad Words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for
    a neuer broke any mans Head but his owne, and that was
    against a Post, when he was drunke. They will steale any
    thing, and call it Purchase. Bardolph stole a Lute-case,
    bore it twelue Leagues, and sold it for three halfepence.
    Nim and Bardolph are sworne Brothers in filching: and
    in Callice they stole a fire-shouell. I knew by that peece
    of Seruice, the men would carry Coales. They would
    haue me as familiar with mens Pockets, as their Gloues
    or their Hand-kerchers: which makes much against my
    Manhood, if I should take from anothers Pocket, to put
    into mine; for it is plaine pocketting vp of Wrongs.
    I must leaue them, and seeke some better Seruice: their
    Villany goes against my weake stomacke, and therefore
    I must cast it vp.
    Enter.


    Enter Gower.


      Gower. Captaine Fluellen, you must come presently to
    the Mynes; the Duke of Gloucester would speake with
    you


       Flu. To the Mynes? Tell you the Duke, it is not so
    good to come to the Mynes: for looke you, the Mynes
    is not according to the disciplines of the Warre; the concauities
    of it is not sufficient: for looke you, th' athuersarie,
    you may discusse vnto the Duke, looke you, is digt
    himselfe foure yard vnder the Countermines: by Cheshu,
    I thinke a will plowe vp all, if there is not better directions


       Gower. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the Order
    of the Siege is giuen, is altogether directed by an Irish
    man, a very valiant Gentleman yfaith


       Welch. It is Captaine Makmorrice, is it not?
      Gower. I thinke it be


       Welch. By Cheshu he is an Asse, as in the World, I will
    verifie as much in his Beard: he ha's no more directions
    in the true disciplines of the Warres, looke you, of the
    Roman disciplines, then is a Puppy-dog.
    Enter Makmorrice, and Captaine Iamy.


      Gower. Here a comes, and the Scots Captaine, Captaine
    Iamy, with him


       Welch. Captaine Iamy is a maruellous falorous Gentleman,
    that is certain, and of great expedition and knowledge
    in th' aunchiant Warres, vpon my particular knowledge
    of his directions: by Cheshu he will maintaine his
    Argument as well as any Militarie man in the World, in
    the disciplines of the Pristine Warres of the Romans


       Scot. I say gudday, Captaine Fluellen


       Welch. Godden to your Worship, good Captaine
    Iames


       Gower. How now Captaine Mackmorrice, haue you
    quit the Mynes? haue the Pioners giuen o're?
      Irish. By Chrish Law tish ill done: the Worke ish
    giue ouer, the Trompet sound the Retreat. By my Hand
    I sweare, and my fathers Soule, the Worke ish ill done:
    it ish giue ouer: I would haue blowed vp the Towne,
    so Chrish saue me law, in an houre. O tish ill done, tish ill
    done: by my Hand tish ill done


       Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, I beseech you now,
    will you voutsafe me, looke you, a few disputations with
    you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of
    the Warre, the Roman Warres, in the way of Argument,
    looke you, and friendly communication: partly to satisfie
    my Opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, looke you, of
    my Mind: as touching the direction of the Militarie discipline,
    that is the Point


       Scot. It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud Captens bath,
    and I sall quit you with gud leue, as I may pick occasion:
    that sall I mary


       Irish. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish saue me:
    the day is hot, and the Weather, and the Warres, and the
    King, and the Dukes: it is no time to discourse, the Town
    is beseech'd: and the Trumpet call vs to the breech, and
    we talke, and be Chrish do nothing, tis shame for vs all:
    so God sa'me tis shame to stand still, it is shame by my
    hand: and there is Throats to be cut, and Workes to be
    done, and there ish nothing done, so Christ sa'me law


       Scot. By the Mes, ere theise eyes of mine take themselues
    to slomber, ayle de gud seruice, or Ile ligge i'th'
    grund for it; ay, or goe to death: and Ile pay't as valorously
    as I may, that sal I suerly do, that is the breff and
    the long: mary, I wad full faine heard some question
    tween you tway


       Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, I thinke, looke you,
    vnder your correction, there is not many of your Nation


       Irish. Of my Nation? What ish my Nation? Ish a
    Villaine, and a Basterd, and a Knaue, and a Rascall. What
    ish my Nation? Who talkes of my Nation?
      Welch. Looke you, if you take the matter otherwise
    then is meant, Captaine Mackmorrice, peraduenture I
    shall thinke you doe not vse me with that affabilitie, as in
    discretion you ought to vse me, looke you, being as good
    a man as your selfe, both in the disciplines of Warre, and
    in the deriuation of my Birth, and in other particularities


       Irish. I doe not know you so good a man as my selfe:
    so Chrish saue me, I will cut off your Head


       Gower. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other


       Scot. A, that's a foule fault.


    A Parley.


      Gower. The Towne sounds a Parley


       Welch. Captaine Mackmorrice, when there is more
    better oportunitie to be required, looke you, I will be
    so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of Warre:
    and there is an end.
    Enter.


    Enter the King and all his Traine before the Gates.


      King. How yet resolues the Gouernour of the Towne?
    This is the latest Parle we will admit:
    Therefore to our best mercy giue your selues,
    Or like to men prowd of destruction,
    Defie vs to our worst: for as I am a Souldier,
    A Name that in my thoughts becomes me best;
    If I begin the batt'rie once againe,
    I will not leaue the halfe-atchieued Harflew,
    Till in her ashes she lye buryed.
    The Gates of Mercy shall be all shut vp,
    And the flesh'd Souldier, rough and hard of heart,
    In libertie of bloody hand, shall raunge
    With Conscience wide as Hell, mowing like Grasse
    Your fresh faire Virgins, and your flowring Infants.
    What is it then to me, if impious Warre,
    Arrayed in flames like to the Prince of Fiends,
    Doe with his smyrcht complexion all fell feats,
    Enlynckt to wast and desolation?
    What is't to me, when you your selues are cause,
    If your pure Maydens fall into the hand
    Of hot and forcing Violation?
    What Reyne can hold licentious Wickednesse,
    When downe the Hill he holds his fierce Carriere?
    We may as bootlesse spend our vaine Command
    Vpon th' enraged Souldiers in their spoyle,
    As send Precepts to the Leuiathan, to come ashore.
    Therefore, you men of Harflew,
    Take pitty of your Towne and of your People,
    Whiles yet my Souldiers are in my Command,
    Whiles yet the coole and temperate Wind of Grace
    O're-blowes the filthy and contagious Clouds
    Of heady Murther, Spoyle, and Villany.
    If not: why in a moment looke to see
    The blind and bloody Souldier, with foule hand
    Desire the Locks of your shrill-shriking Daughters:
    Your Fathers taken by the siluer Beards,
    And their most reuerend Heads dasht to the Walls:
    Your naked Infants spitted vpon Pykes,
    Whiles the mad Mothers, with their howles confus'd,
    Doe breake the Clouds; as did the Wiues of Iewry,
    At Herods bloody-hunting slaughter-men.
    What say you? Will you yeeld, and this auoyd?
    Or guiltie in defence, be thus destroy'd.
    Enter Gouernour.


      Gouer. Our expectation hath this day an end:
    The Dolphin, whom of Succours we entreated,
    Returnes vs, that his Powers are yet not ready,
    To rayse so great a Siege: Therefore great King,
    We yeeld our Towne and Liues to thy soft Mercy:
    Enter our Gates, dispose of vs and ours,
    For we no longer are defensible


       King. Open your Gates: Come Vnckle Exeter,
    Goe you and enter Harflew; there remaine,
    And fortifie it strongly 'gainst the French:
    Vse mercy to them all for vs, deare Vnckle.
    The Winter comming on, and Sicknesse growing
    Vpon our Souldiers, we will retyre to Calis.
    To night in Harflew will we be your Guest,
    To morrow for the March are we addrest.


    Flourish, and enter the Towne.


    Enter Katherine and an old Gentlewoman.


      Kathe. Alice, tu as este en Angleterre, &tu bien parlas
    le Language


       Alice. En peu Madame


       Kath. Ie te prie m' ensigniez, il faut que ie apprend a parlen:
    Comient appelle vous le main en Anglois?
      Alice. Le main il &appelle de Hand


       Kath. De Hand


       Alice. E le doyts


       Kat. Le doyts, ma foy Ie oublie, e doyt mays, ie me souemeray
    le doyts ie pense qu'ils ont appelle de fingres, ou de fingres


       Alice. Le main de Hand, le doyts le Fingres, ie pense que ie
    suis le bon escholier


       Kath. I'ay gaynie diux mots d' Anglois vistement, coment
    appelle vous le ongles?
      Alice. Le ongles, les appellons de Nayles


       Kath. De Nayles escoute: dites moy, si ie parle bien: de
    Hand, de Fingres, e de Nayles


       Alice. C'est bien dict Madame, il &fort bon Anglois


       Kath. Dites moy l' Anglois pour le bras


       Alice. De Arme, Madame


       Kath. E de coudee


       Alice. D' Elbow


       Kath. D' Elbow: Ie men fay le repiticio de touts les mots
    que vous maves, apprins des a present


       Alice. Il &trop difficile Madame, comme Ie pense


       Kath. Excuse moy Alice escoute, d' Hand, de Fingre, de
    Nayles, d' Arma, de Bilbow


       Alice. D' Elbow, Madame


       Kath. O Seigneur Dieu, ie men oublie d' Elbow, coment appelle
    vous le col


       Alice. De Nick, Madame


       Kath. De Nick, e le menton


       Alice. De Chin


       Kath. De Sin: le col de Nick, le menton de Sin


       Alice. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur en verite vous pronouncies
    les mots ausi droict, que le Natifs d' Angleterre


       Kath. Ie ne doute point d' apprendre par de grace de Dieu,
    &en peu de temps


       Alice. N' aue vos y desia oublie ce que ie vous a ensignie


       Kath. Nome ie recitera a vous promptement, d' Hand, de
    Fingre, de Maylees


       Alice. De Nayles, Madame


       Kath. De Nayles, de Arme, de Ilbow


       Alice. Sans vostre honeus d' Elbow


       Kath. Ainsi de ie d' Elbow, de Nick, &de Sin: coment appelle
    vous les pied &de roba


       Alice. Le Foot Madame, &le Count


       Kath. Le Foot, &le Count: O Seignieur Dieu, il sont le
    mots de son mauvais corruptible grosse &impudique, &non
    pour le Dames de Honeur d' vser: Ie ne voudray pronouncer ce
    mots deuant le Seigneurs de France, pour toute le monde, fo le
    Foot &le Count, neant moys, Ie recitera vn autrefoys ma lecon
    ensembe, d' Hand, de Fingre, de Nayles, d' Arme, d' Elbow, de
    Nick, de Sin, de Foot, le Count


       Alice. Excellent, Madame


       Kath. C'est asses pour vne foyes, alons nous a diner.
    Enter.


    Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the Constable of France,
    and
    others.


      King. 'Tis certaine he hath past the Riuer Some


       Const. And if he be not fought withall, my Lord,
    Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,
    And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People


       Dolph. O Dieu viuant: Shall a few Sprayes of vs,
    The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie,
    Our Syens, put in wilde and sauage Stock,
    Spirt vp so suddenly into the Clouds,
    And ouer-looke their Grafters?
      Brit. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards:
    Mort du ma vie, if they march along
    Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome,
    To buy a slobbry and a durtie Farme
    In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion


       Const. Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell?
    Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?
    On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale,
    Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,
    A Drench for sur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth,
    Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
    And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine,
    Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land,
    Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles
    Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People
    Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields:
    Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords


       Dolphin. By Faith and Honor,
    Our Madames mock at vs, and plainely say,
    Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue
    Their bodyes to the Lust of English Youth,
    To new-store France with Bastard Warriors


       Brit. They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles,
    And teach Lauolta's high, and swift Carranto's,
    Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles,
    And that we are most loftie Run-awayes


       King. Where is Montioy the Herald? speed him hence,
    Let him greet England with our sharpe defiance.
    Vp Princes, and with spirit of Honor edged,
    More sharper then your Swords, high to the field:
    Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
    You Dukes of Orleance, Burbon, and of Berry,
    Alanson, Brabant, Bar, and Burgonie,
    Iaques Chattillion, Rambures, Vandemont,
    Beumont, Grand Pree, Roussi, and Faulconbridge,
    Loys, Lestrale, Bouciquall, and Charaloyes,
    High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings;
    For your great Seats, now quit you of great shames:
    Barre Harry England, that sweepes through our Land
    With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew:
    Rush on his Hoast, as doth the melted Snow
    Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vassall Seat,
    The Alpes doth spit, and void his rhewme vpon.
    Goe downe vpon him, you haue Power enough,
    And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan
    Bring him our Prisoner


       Const. This becomes the Great.
    Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
    His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:
    For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,
    Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,
    And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome


       King. Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,
    And let him say to England, that we send,
    To know what willing Ransome he will giue.
    Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan


       Dolph. Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie


       King. Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.
    Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,
    And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.


    Exeunt.


    Enter Captaines, English and Welch, Gower and Fluellen.


      Gower. How now Captaine Fluellen, come you from
    the Bridge?
      Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent Seruices committed
    at the Bridge


       Gower. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
      Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon,
    and a man that I loue and honour with my soule,
    and my heart, and my dutie, and my liue, and my liuing,
    and my vttermost power. He is not, God be praysed and
    blessed, any hurt in the World, but keepes the Bridge
    most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient
    Lieutenant there at the Pridge, I thinke in my very
    conscience hee is as valiant a man as Marke Anthony, and
    hee is a man of no estimation in the World, but I did see
    him doe as gallant seruice


       Gower. What doe you call him?
      Flu. Hee is call'd aunchient Pistoll


       Gower. I know him not.
    Enter Pistoll.


      Flu. Here is the man


       Pist. Captaine, I thee beseech to doe me fauours: the
    Duke of Exeter doth loue thee well


       Flu. I, I prayse God, and I haue merited some loue at
    his hands


       Pist. Bardolph, a Souldier firme and sound of heart,
    and of buxome valour, hath by cruell Fate, and giddie
    Fortunes furious fickle Wheele, that Goddesse blind, that
    stands vpon the rolling restlesse Stone


       Flu. By your patience, aunchient Pistoll: Fortune is
    painted blinde, with a Muffler afore his eyes, to signifie
    to you, that Fortune is blinde; and shee is painted also
    with a Wheele, to signifie to you, which is the Morall of
    it, that shee is turning and inconstant, and mutabilitie,
    and variation: and her foot, looke you, is fixed vpon a
    Sphericall Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles:
    in good truth, the Poet makes a most excellent description
    of it: Fortune is an excellent Morall


       Pist. Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him:
    for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned
    death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free,
    and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter
    hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price.
    Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce;
    and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of
    Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for
    his Life, and I will thee requite


       Flu. Aunchient Pistoll, I doe partly vnderstand your
    meaning


       Pist. Why then reioyce therefore


       Flu. Certainly Aunchient, it is not a thing to reioyce
    at: for if, looke you, he were my Brother, I would desire
    the Duke to vse his good pleasure, and put him to execution;
    for discipline ought to be vsed


       Pist. Dye, and be dam'd, and Figo for thy friendship


       Flu. It is well


       Pist. The Figge of Spaine.
    Enter.


      Flu. Very good


       Gower. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Rascall, I
    remember him now: a Bawd, a Cut-purse


       Flu. Ile assure you, a vtt'red as praue words at the
    Pridge, as you shall see in a Summers day: but it is very
    well: what he ha's spoke to me, that is well I warrant you,
    when time is serue


       Gower. Why 'tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and
    then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne
    into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such
    fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and
    they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done;
    at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Conuoy:
    who came off brauely, who was shot, who disgrac'd,
    what termes the Enemy stood on: and this they
    conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke
    vp with new-tuned Oathes: and what a Beard of the Generalls
    Cut, and a horride Sute of the Campe, will doe among
    foming Bottles, and Ale-washt Wits, is wonderfull
    to be thought on: but you must learne to know such
    slanders of the age, or else you may be maruellously mistooke


       Flu. I tell you what, Captaine Gower: I doe perceiue
    hee is not the man that hee would gladly make shew to
    the World hee is: if I finde a hole in his Coat, I will tell
    him my minde: hearke you, the King is comming, and I
    must speake with him from the Pridge.


    Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his poore Souldiers.


      Flu. God plesse your Maiestie


       King. How now Fluellen, cam'st thou from the Bridge?
      Flu. I, so please your Maiestie: The Duke of Exeter
    ha's very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge; the French is
    gone off, looke you, and there is gallant and most praue
    passages: marry, th' athuersarie was haue possession of
    the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of
    Exeter is Master of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie,
    the Duke is a praue man


       King. What men haue you lost, Fluellen?
      Flu. The perdition of th' athuersarie hath beene very
    great, reasonnable great: marry for my part, I thinke the
    Duke hath lost neuer a man, but one that is like to be executed
    for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Maiestie
    know the man: his face is all bubukles and whelkes,
    and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his
    nose, and it is like a coale of fire, sometimes plew, and
    sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire's
    out


       King. Wee would haue all such offendors so cut off:
    and we giue expresse charge, that in our Marches through
    the Countrey, there be nothing compell'd from the Villages;
    nothing taken, but pay'd for: none of the French
    vpbrayded or abused in disdainefull Language; for when
    Leuitie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler
    Gamester is the soonest winner.


    Tucket. Enter Mountioy.


      Mountioy. You know me by my habit


       King. Well then, I know thee: what shall I know of
    thee?
      Mountioy. My Masters mind


       King. Vnfold it


       Mountioy. Thus sayes my King: Say thou to Harry
    of England, Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleepe:
    Aduantage is a better Souldier then rashnesse. Tell him,
    wee could haue rebuk'd him at Harflewe, but that wee
    thought not good to bruise an iniurie, till it were full
    ripe. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is imperiall:
    England shall repent his folly, see his weakenesse,
    and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider
    of his ransome, which must proportion the losses we
    haue borne, the subiects we haue lost, the disgrace we
    haue digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettinesse
    would bow vnder. For our losses, his Exchequer is
    too poore; for th' effusion of our bloud, the Muster of his
    Kingdome too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his
    owne person kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worthlesse
    satisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for
    conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation
    is pronounc't: So farre my King and Master;
    so much my Office


       King. What is thy name? I know thy qualitie


       Mount. Mountioy


       King. Thou doo'st thy Office fairely. Turne thee backe,
    And tell thy King, I doe not seeke him now,
    But could be willing to march on to Callice,
    Without impeachment: for to say the sooth,
    Though 'tis no wisdome to confesse so much
    Vnto an enemie of Craft and Vantage,
    My people are with sicknesse much enfeebled,
    My numbers lessen'd: and those few I haue,
    Almost no better then so many French;
    Who when they were in health, I tell thee Herald,
    I thought, vpon one payre of English Legges
    Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgiue me God,
    That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of France
    Hath blowne that vice in me. I must repent:
    Goe therefore tell thy Master, heere I am;
    My Ransome, is this frayle and worthlesse Trunke;
    My Army, but a weake and sickly Guard:
    Yet God before, tell him we will come on,
    Though France himselfe, and such another Neighbor
    Stand in our way. There's for thy labour Mountioy.
    Goe bid thy Master well aduise himselfe.
    If we may passe, we will: if we be hindred,
    We shall your tawnie ground with your red blood
    Discolour: and so Mountioy, fare you well.
    The summe of all our Answer is but this:
    We would not seeke a Battaile as we are,
    Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it:
    So tell your Master


       Mount. I shall deliuer so: Thankes to your Highnesse


       Glouc. I hope they will not come vpon vs now


       King. We are in Gods hand, Brother, not in theirs:
    March to the Bridge, it now drawes toward night,
    Beyond the Riuer wee'le encampe our selues,
    And on to morrow bid them march away.


    Exeunt.


    Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Ramburs, Orleance,
    Dolphin, with
    others.


      Const. Tut, I haue the best Armour of the World:
    would it were day


       Orleance. You haue an excellent Armour: but let my
    Horse haue his due


       Const. It is the best Horse of Europe


       Orleance. Will it neuer be Morning?
      Dolph. My Lord of Orleance, and my Lord High Constable,
    you talke of Horse and Armour?
      Orleance. You are as well prouided of both, as any
    Prince in the World


       Dolph. What a long Night is this? I will not change
    my Horse with any that treades but on foure postures:
    ch' ha: he bounds from the Earth, as if his entrayles were
    hayres: le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de
    feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots
    the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest
    horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of
    Hermes


       Orleance. Hee's of the colour of the Nutmeg


       Dolph. And of the heat of the Ginger. It is a Beast
    for Perseus: hee is pure Ayre and Fire; and the dull Elements
    of Earth and Water neuer appeare in him, but only
    in patient stillnesse while his Rider mounts him: hee
    is indeede a Horse, and all other Iades you may call
    Beasts


       Const. Indeed my Lord, it is a most absolute and excellent
    Horse


       Dolph. It is the Prince of Palfrayes, his Neigh is like
    the bidding of a Monarch, and his countenance enforces
    Homage


       Orleance. No more Cousin


       Dolph. Nay, the man hath no wit, that cannot from
    the rising of the Larke to the lodging of the Lambe,
    varie deserued prayse on my Palfray: it is a Theame as
    fluent as the Sea: Turne the Sands into eloquent tongues,
    and my Horse is argument for them all: 'tis a subiect
    for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne
    to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs,
    and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions,
    and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse,
    and began thus, Wonder of Nature


       Orleance. I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Mistresse


       Dolph. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd
    to my Courser, for my Horse is my Mistresse


       Orleance. Your Mistresse beares well


       Dolph. Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfection
    of a good and particular Mistresse


       Const. Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresse
    shrewdly shooke your back


       Dolph. So perhaps did yours


       Const. Mine was not bridled


       Dolph. O then belike she was old and gentle, and you
    rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in
    your strait Strossers


       Const. You haue good iudgement in Horsemanship


       Dolph. Be warn'd by me then: they that ride so, and
    ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue
    my Horse to my Mistresse


       Const. I had as liue haue my Mistresse a Iade


       Dolph. I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares his
    owne hayre


       Const. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a
    Sow to my Mistresse


       Dolph. Le chien est retourne a son propre vemissement est
    la leuye lauee au bourbier: thou mak'st vse of any thing


       Const. Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,
    or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purpose


       Ramb. My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw in
    your Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?
      Const. Starres my Lord


       Dolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope


       Const. And yet my Sky shall not want


       Dolph. That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,
    and 'twere more honor some were away


       Const. Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, who
    would trot as well, were some of your bragges dismounted


       Dolph. Would I were able to loade him with his desert.
    Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile,
    and my way shall be paued with English Faces


       Const. I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out
    of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would
    faine be about the eares of the English


       Ramb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentie
    Prisoners?
      Const. You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere you
    haue them


       Dolph. 'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.
    Enter.


      Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morning


       Ramb. He longs to eate the English


       Const. I thinke he will eate all he kills


       Orleance. By the white Hand of my Lady, hee's a gallant
    Prince


       Const. Sweare by her Foot, that she may tread out the
    Oath


       Orleance. He is simply the most actiue Gentleman of
    France


       Const. Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doing


       Orleance. He neuer did harme, that I heard of


       Const. Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe
    that good name still


       Orleance. I know him to be valiant


       Const. I was told that, by one that knowes him better
    then you


       Orleance. What's hee?
      Const. Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd hee
    car'd not who knew it


       Orleance. Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue in
    him


       Const. By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw
    it, but his Lacquey: 'tis a hooded valour, and when it
    appeares, it will bate


       Orleance. Ill will neuer sayd well


       Const. I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatterie
    in friendship


       Orleance. And I will take vp that with, Giue the Deuill
    his due


       Const. Well plac't: there stands your friend for the
    Deuill: haue at the very eye of that Prouerbe with, A
    Pox of the Deuill


       Orleance. You are the better at Prouerbs, by how much
    a Fooles Bolt is soone shot


       Const. You haue shot ouer


       Orleance. 'Tis not the first time you were ouer-shot.
    Enter a Messenger.


      Mess. My Lord high Constable, the English lye within
    fifteene hundred paces of your Tents


       Const. Who hath measur'd the ground?
      Mess. The Lord Grandpree


       Const. A valiant and most expert Gentleman. Would
    it were day? Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs
    not for the Dawning, as wee doe


       Orleance. What a wretched and peeuish fellow is this
    King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers
    so farre out of his knowledge


       Const. If the English had any apprehension, they
    would runne away


       Orleance. That they lack: for if their heads had any intellectuall
    Armour, they could neuer weare such heauie
    Head-pieces


       Ramb. That Iland of England breedes very valiant
    Creatures; their Mastiffes are of vnmatchable courage


       Orleance. Foolish Curres, that runne winking into
    the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht
    like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that's a valiant
    Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a
    Lyon


       Const. Iust, iust: and the men doe sympathize with
    the Mastiffes, in robustious and rough comming on,
    leauing their Wits with their Wiues: and then giue
    them great Meales of Beefe, and Iron and Steele; they
    will eate like Wolues, and fight like Deuils


       Orleance. I, but these English are shrowdly out of
    Beefe


       Const. Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only
    stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to
    arme: come, shall we about it?
      Orleance. It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten
    Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.


    Exeunt.


    Actus Tertius.


    Chorus.


    Now entertaine coniecture of a time,
    When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke
    Fills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse.
    From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night
    The Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds;
    That the fixt Centinels almost receiue
    The secret Whispers of each others Watch.
    Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
    Each Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.
    Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull Neighs
    Piercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents,
    The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,
    With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp,
    Giue dreadfull note of preparation.
    The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle:
    And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd,
    Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule,
    The confident and ouer-lustie French,
    Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;
    And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night,
    Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpe
    So tediously away. The poore condemned English,
    Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull Fires
    Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
    The Mornings danger: and their gesture sad,
    Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,
    Presented them vnto the gazing Moone
    So many horride Ghosts. O now, who will behold
    The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band
    Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;
    Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head:
    For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast,
    Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle,
    And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.
    Vpon his Royall Face there is no note,
    How dread an Army hath enrounded him;
    Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour
    Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night:
    But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,
    With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie:
    That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,
    Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.
    A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne,
    His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,
    Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle all
    Behold, as may vnworthinesse define.
    A little touch of Harry in the Night,
    And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye:
    Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,
    With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles,
    (Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)
    The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see,
    Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.
    Enter.


    Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.


      King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,
    The greater therefore should our Courage be.
    God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie,
    There is some soule of goodnesse in things euill,
    Would men obseruingly distill it out.
    For our bad Neighbour makes vs early stirrers,
    Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry.
    Besides, they are our outward Consciences,
    And Preachers to vs all; admonishing,
    That we should dresse vs fairely for our end.
    Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
    And make a Morall of the Diuell himselfe.
    Enter Erpingham.


    Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
    A good soft Pillow for that good white Head,
    Were better then a churlish turfe of France


       Erping. Not so my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,
    Since I may say, now lye I like a King


       King. 'Tis good for men to loue their present paines,
    Vpon example, so the Spirit is eased:
    And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt
    The Organs, though defunct and dead before,
    Breake vp their drowsie Graue, and newly moue
    With casted slough, and fresh legeritie.
    Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both,
    Commend me to the Princes in our Campe;
    Doe my good morrow to them, and anon
    Desire them all to my Pauillion


       Gloster. We shall, my Liege


       Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
      King. No, my good Knight:
    Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:
    I and my Bosome must debate a while,
    And then I would no other company


       Erping. The Lord in Heauen blesse thee, Noble
    Harry.


    Exeunt.


      King. God a mercy old Heart, thou speak'st chearefully.
    Enter Pistoll


       Pist. Che vous la?
      King. A friend


       Pist. Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thou
    base, common, and popular?
      King. I am a Gentleman of a Company


       Pist. Trayl'st thou the puissant Pyke?
      King. Euen so: what are you?
      Pist. As good a Gentleman as the Emperor


       King. Then you are a better then the King


       Pist. The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a
    Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fist
    most valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heartstring
    I loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?
      King. Harry le Roy


       Pist. Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?
      King. No, I am a Welchman


       Pist. Know'st thou Fluellen?
      King. Yes


       Pist. Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vpon
    S[aint]. Dauies day


       King. Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappe
    that day, least he knock that about yours


       Pist. Art thou his friend?
      King. And his Kinsman too


       Pist. The Figo for thee then


       King. I thanke you: God be with you


       Pist. My name is Pistol call'd.
    Enter.


      King. It sorts well with your fiercenesse.


    Manet King.


    Enter Fluellen and Gower.


      Gower. Captaine Fluellen


       Flu. 'So, in the Name of Iesu Christ, speake fewer: it
    is the greatest admiration in the vniuersall World, when
    the true and aunchient Prerogatifes and Lawes of the
    Warres is not kept: if you would take the paines but to
    examine the Warres of Pompey the Great, you shall finde,
    I warrant you, that there is no tiddle tadle nor pibble bable
    in Pompeyes Campe: I warrant you, you shall finde
    the Ceremonies of the Warres, and the Cares of it, and
    the Formes of it, and the Sobrietie of it, and the Modestie
    of it, to be otherwise


       Gower. Why the Enemie is lowd, you heare him all
    Night


       Flu. If the Enemie is an Asse and a Foole, and a prating
    Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should
    also, looke you, be an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe,
    in your owne conscience now?
      Gow. I will speake lower


       Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will.
    Enter.


      King. Though it appeare a little out of fashion,
    There is much care and valour in this Welchman.
    Enter three Souldiers, Iohn Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael
    Williams.



      Court. Brother Iohn Bates, is not that the Morning
    which breakes yonder?
      Bates. I thinke it be: but wee haue no great cause to
    desire the approach of day


       Williams. Wee see yonder the beginning of the day,
    but I thinke wee shall neuer see the end of it. Who goes
    there?
      King. A Friend


       Williams. Vnder what Captaine serue you?
      King. Vnder Sir Iohn Erpingham


       Williams. A good old Commander, and a most kinde
    Gentleman: I pray you, what thinkes he of our estate?
      King. Euen as men wrackt vpon a Sand, that looke to
    be washt off the next Tyde


       Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King?
      King. No: nor it is not meet he should: for though I
    speake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am:
    the Violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the Element
    shewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but
    humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Nakednesse
    he appeares but a man; and though his affections
    are higher mounted then ours, yet when they stoupe,
    they stoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he sees
    reason of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of
    the same rellish as ours are: yet in reason, no man should
    possesse him with any appearance of feare; least hee, by
    shewing it, should dis-hearten his Army


       Bates. He may shew what outward courage he will:
    but I beleeue, as cold a Night as 'tis, hee could wish himselfe
    in Thames vp to the Neck; and so I would he were,
    and I by him, at all aduentures, so we were quit here


       King. By my troth, I will speake my conscience of the
    King: I thinke hee would not wish himselfe any where,
    but where hee is


       Bates. Then I would he were here alone; so should he be
    sure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues saued


       King. I dare say, you loue him not so ill, to wish him
    here alone: howsoeuer you speake this to feele other
    mens minds, me thinks I could not dye any where so contented,
    as in the Kings company; his Cause being iust, and
    his Quarrell honorable


       Williams. That's more then we know


       Bates. I, or more then wee should seeke after; for wee
    know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subiects:
    if his Cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes
    the Cryme of it out of vs


       Williams. But if the Cause be not good, the King himselfe
    hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all those
    Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile,
    shall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all, Wee dyed
    at such a place, some swearing, some crying for a Surgean;
    some vpon their Wiues, left poore behind them;
    some vpon the Debts they owe, some vpon their Children
    rawly left: I am afear'd, there are few dye well, that dye
    in a Battaile: for how can they charitably dispose of any
    thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if these men
    doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King,
    that led them to it; who to disobey, were against all proportion
    of subiection


       King. So, if a Sonne that is by his Father sent about
    Merchandize, doe sinfully miscarry vpon the Sea; the imputation
    of his wickednesse, by your rule, should be imposed
    vpon his Father that sent him: or if a Seruant, vnder
    his Masters command, transporting a summe of Money,
    be assayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil'd
    Iniquities; you may call the businesse of the Master the
    author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not so:
    The King is not bound to answer the particular endings
    of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Master
    of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when
    they purpose their seruices. Besides, there is no King, be
    his Cause neuer so spotlesse, if it come to the arbitrement
    of Swords, can trye it out with all vnspotted Souldiers:
    some (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of
    premeditated and contriued Murther; some, of beguiling
    Virgins with the broken Seales of Periurie; some,
    making the Warres their Bulwarke, that haue before gored
    the gentle Bosome of Peace with Pillage and Robberie.
    Now, if these men haue defeated the Law, and outrunne
    Natiue punishment; though they can out-strip
    men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is
    his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: so that here men
    are punisht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in
    now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death,
    they haue borne life away; and where they would bee
    safe, they perish. Then if they dye vnprouided, no more
    is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was before
    guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are
    now visited. Euery Subiects Dutie is the Kings, but
    euery Subiects Soule is his owne. Therefore should
    euery Souldier in the Warres doe as euery sicke man in
    his Bed, wash euery Moth out of his Conscience: and
    dying so, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying,
    the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was
    gayned: and in him that escapes, it were not sinne to
    thinke, that making God so free an offer, he let him outliue
    that day, to see his Greatnesse, and to teach others
    how they should prepare


       Will. 'Tis certaine, euery man that dyes ill, the ill vpon
    his owne head, the King is not to answer it


       Bates. I doe not desire hee should answer for me, and
    yet I determine to fight lustily for him


       King. I my selfe heard the King say he would not be
    ransom'd


       Will. I, hee said so, to make vs fight chearefully: but
    when our throats are cut, hee may be ransom'd, and wee
    ne're the wiser


       King. If I liue to see it, I will neuer trust his word after


       Will. You pay him then: that's a perillous shot out
    of an Elder Gunne, that a poore and a priuate displeasure
    can doe against a Monarch: you may as well goe about
    to turne the Sunne to yce, with fanning in his face with a
    Peacocks feather: You'le neuer trust his word after;
    come, 'tis a foolish saying


       King. Your reproofe is something too round, I should
    be angry with you, if the time were conuenient


       Will. Let it bee a Quarrell betweene vs, if you
    liue


       King. I embrace it


       Will. How shall I know thee againe?
      King. Giue me any Gage of thine, and I will weare it
    in my Bonnet: Then if euer thou dar'st acknowledge it,
    I will make it my Quarrell


       Will. Heere's my Gloue: Giue mee another of
    thine


       King. There


       Will. This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou
    come to me, and say, after to morrow, This is my Gloue,
    by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eare


       King. If euer I liue to see it, I will challenge it


       Will. Thou dar'st as well be hang'd


       King. Well, I will doe it, though I take thee in the
    Kings companie


       Will. Keepe thy word: fare thee well


       Bates. Be friends you English fooles, be friends, wee
    haue French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.


    Exit Souldiers.


      King. Indeede the French may lay twentie French
    Crownes to one, they will beat vs, for they beare them
    on their shoulders: but it is no English Treason to cut
    French Crownes, and to morrow the King himselfe will
    be a Clipper.
    Vpon the King, let vs our Liues, our Soules,
    Our Debts, our carefull Wiues,
    Our Children, and our Sinnes, lay on the King:
    We must beare all.
    O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatnesse,
    Subiect to the breath of euery foole, whose sence
    No more can feele, but his owne wringing.
    What infinite hearts-ease must Kings neglect,
    That priuate men enioy?
    And what haue Kings, that Priuates haue not too,
    Saue Ceremonie, saue generall Ceremonie?
    And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?
    What kind of God art thou? that suffer'st more
    Of mortall griefes, then doe thy worshippers.
    What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?
    O Ceremonie, shew me but thy worth.
    What? is thy Soule of Odoration?
    Art thou ought else but Place, Degree, and Forme,
    Creating awe and feare in other men?
    Wherein thou art lesse happy, being fear'd,
    Then they in fearing.
    What drink'st thou oft, in stead of Homage sweet,
    But poyson'd flatterie? O, be sick, great Greatnesse,
    And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.
    Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe out
    With Titles blowne from Adulation?
    Will it giue place to flexure and low bending?
    Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggers knee,
    Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,
    That play'st so subtilly with a Kings Repose.
    I am a King that find thee: and I know,
    'Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,
    The Sword, the Mase, the Crowne Imperiall,
    The enter-tissued Robe of Gold and Pearle,
    The farsed Title running 'fore the King,
    The Throne he sits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,
    That beates vpon the high shore of this World:
    No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;
    Not all these, lay'd in Bed Maiesticall,
    Can sleepe so soundly, as the wretched Slaue:
    Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
    Gets him to rest, cram'd with distressefull bread,
    Neuer sees horride Night, the Child of Hell:
    But like a Lacquey, from the Rise to Set,
    Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all Night
    Sleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,
    Doth rise and helpe Hiperio[n] to his Horse,
    And followes so the euer-running yeere
    With profitable labour to his Graue:
    And but for Ceremonie, such a Wretch,
    Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with sleepe,
    Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.
    The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,
    Enioyes it; but in grosse braine little wots,
    What watch the King keepes, to maintaine the peace;
    Whose howres, the Pesant best aduantages.
    Enter Erpingham.


      Erp. My Lord, your Nobles iealous of your absence,
    Seeke through your Campe to find you


       King. Good old Knight, collect them all together
    At my Tent: Ile be before thee


       Erp. I shall doo't, my Lord.
    Enter.


      King. O God of Battailes, steele my Souldiers hearts,
    Possesse them not with feare: Take from them now
    The sence of reckning of th' opposed numbers:
    Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,
    O not to day, thinke not vpon the fault
    My Father made, in compassing the Crowne.
    I Richards body haue interred new,
    And on it haue bestowed more contrite teares,
    Then from it issued forced drops of blood.
    Fiue hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,
    Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold vp
    Toward Heauen, to pardon blood:
    And I haue built two Chauntries,
    Where the sad and solemne Priests sing still
    For Richards Soule. More will I doe:
    Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;
    Since that my Penitence comes after all,
    Imploring pardon.
    Enter Gloucester.


      Glouc. My Liege


       King. My Brother Gloucesters voyce? I:
    I know thy errand, I will goe with thee:
    The day, my friend, and all things stay for me.


    Exeunt.


    Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs, and Beaumont.


      Orleance. The Sunne doth gild our Armour vp, my
    Lords


       Dolph. Monte Cheual: My Horse, Verlot Lacquay:
    Ha


       Orleance. Oh braue Spirit


       Dolph. Via les ewes &terre


       Orleance. Rien puis le air &feu


       Dolph. Cein, Cousin Orleance.
    Enter Constable.


    Now my Lord Constable?
      Const. Hearke how our Steedes, for present Seruice
    neigh


       Dolph. Mount them, and make incision in their Hides,
    That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
    And doubt them with superfluous courage: ha


       Ram. What, wil you haue them weep our Horses blood?
    How shall we then behold their naturall teares?
    Enter Messenger.


      Messeng. The English are embattail'd, you French
    Peeres


       Const. To Horse you gallant Princes, straight to Horse.
    Doe but behold yond poore and starued Band,
    And your faire shew shall suck away their Soules,
    Leauing them but the shales and huskes of men.
    There is not worke enough for all our hands,
    Scarce blood enough in all their sickly Veines,
    To giue each naked Curtleax a stayne,
    That our French Gallants shall to day draw out,
    And sheath for lack of sport. Let vs but blow on them,
    The vapour of our Valour will o're-turne them.
    'Tis positiue against all exceptions, Lords,
    That our superfluous Lacquies, and our Pesants,
    Who in vnnecessarie action swarme
    About our Squares of Battaile, were enow
    To purge this field of such a hilding Foe;
    Though we vpon this Mountaines Basis by,
    Tooke stand for idle speculation:
    But that our Honours must not. What's to say?
    A very little little let vs doe,
    And all is done: then let the Trumpets sound
    The Tucket Sonuance, and the Note to mount:
    For our approach shall so much dare the field,
    That England shall couch downe in feare, and yeeld.
    Enter Graundpree.


      Grandpree. Why do you stay so long, my Lords of France?
    Yond Iland Carrions, desperate of their bones,
    Ill-fauoredly become the Morning field:
    Their ragged Curtaines poorely are let loose,
    And our Ayre shakes them passing scornefully.
    Bigge Mars seemes banqu'rout in their begger'd Hoast,
    And faintly through a rustie Beuer peepes.
    The Horsemen sit like fixed Candlesticks,
    With Torch-staues in their hand: and their poore Iades
    Lob downe their heads, dropping the hides and hips:
    The gumme downe roping from their pale-dead eyes,
    And in their pale dull mouthes the Iymold Bitt
    Lyes foule with chaw'd-grasse, still and motionlesse.
    And their executors, the knauish Crowes,
    Flye o're them all, impatient for their howre.
    Description cannot sute it selfe in words,
    To demonstrate the Life of such a Battaile,
    In life so liuelesse, as it shewes it selfe


       Const. They haue said their prayers,
    And they stay for death


       Dolph. Shall we goe send them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,
    And giue their fasting Horses Prouender,
    And after fight with them?
      Const. I stay but for my Guard: on
    To the field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,
    And vse it for my haste. Come, come away,
    The Sunne is high, and we out-weare the day.


    Exeunt.


    Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his Hoast:
    Salisbury, and Westmerland.


      Glouc. Where is the King?
      Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their Battaile


       West. Of fighting men they haue full threescore thousand


       Exe. There's fiue to one, besides they all are fresh


       Salisb. Gods Arme strike with vs, 'tis a fearefull oddes.
    God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:
    If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;
    Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,
    My deare Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
    And my kind Kinsman, Warriors all, adieu


       Bedf. Farwell good Salisbury, &good luck go with thee:
    And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,
    For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valour


       Exe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to day


       Bedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindnesse,
    Princely in both.
    Enter the King.


      West. O that we now had here
    But one ten thousand of those men in England,
    That doe no worke to day


       King. What's he that wishes so?
    My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:
    If we are markt to dye, we are enow
    To doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,
    The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
    Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
    By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,
    Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:
    It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
    But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,
    I am the most offending Soule aliue.
    No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:
    Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,
    As one man more me thinkes would share from me,
    For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:
    Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,
    That he which hath no stomack to this fight,
    Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,
    And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:
    We would not dye in that mans companie,
    That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.
    This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:
    He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
    And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.
    He that shall see this day, and liue old age,
    Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,
    And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.
    Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:
    But hee'le remember, with aduantages,
    What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,
    Familiar in his mouth as household words,
    Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
    Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
    This story shall the good man teach his sonne:
    And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
    From this day to the ending of the World,
    But we in it shall be remembred;
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
    For he to day that sheds his blood with me,
    Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,
    This day shall gentle his Condition.
    And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
    Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;
    And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
    That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.
    Enter Salisbury.


      Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:
    The French are brauely in their battailes set,
    And will with all expedience charge on vs


       King. All things are ready, if our minds be so


       West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now


       King. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,
    Couze?
      West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,
    Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile


       King. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:
    Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.
    You know your places: God be with you all.


    Tucket. Enter Montioy.


      Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,
    If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
    Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:
    For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,
    Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
    The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind
    Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
    May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre
    From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies
    Must lye and fester


       King. Who hath sent thee now?
      Mont. The Constable of France


       King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
    Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
    Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
    The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
    While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
    A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
    Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust
    Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.
    And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,
    Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,
    They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,
    And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
    Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,
    The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.
    Marke then abounding valour in our English:
    That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,
    Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,
    Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
    Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,
    We are but Warriors for the working day:
    Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht
    With raynie Marching in the painefull field.
    There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:
    Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:
    And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.
    But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:
    And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
    They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck
    The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
    And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,
    As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then
    Will soone be leuyed.
    Herauld, saue thou thy labour:
    Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
    They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:
    Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,
    Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable


       Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
    Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.
    Enter.


      King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a
    Ransome.
    Enter Yorke.


      Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge
    The leading of the Vaward


       King. Take it, braue Yorke.
    Now Souldiers march away,
    And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.


    Exeunt.


    Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.


      Pist. Yeeld Curre


       French. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee


       Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?
    What is thy Name? discusse


       French. O Seigneur Dieu


       Pist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend
    my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur
    Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur
    thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome


       French. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy


       Pist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: for
    I will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes of
    Crimson blood


       French. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras


       Pist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine
    Goat, offer'st me Brasse?
      French. O perdonne moy


       Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?
    Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is his
    Name


       Boy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle?
      French. Mounsieur le Fer


       Boy. He sayes his Name is M. Fer


       Pist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:
    discusse the same in French vnto him


       Boy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, and
    firke


       Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat


       French. Que dit il Mounsieur?
      Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous
    prest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre
    gorge


       Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse
    thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt
    thou be by this my Sword


       French. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner,
    Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, &Ie
    vous donneray deux cent escus


       Pist. What are his words?
      Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentleman
    of a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you two
    hundred Crownes


       Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crownes
    will take


       Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?
      Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucune
    prisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets,
    il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisement


       Fre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, et
    Ie me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn Cheualier
    Ie pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieur
    d' Angleterre


       Pist. Expound vnto me boy


       Boy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks,
    and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into
    the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous
    and thrice-worthy signeur of England


       Pist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow
    mee


       Boy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine?
    I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a
    heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the
    greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more
    valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie
    one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and
    they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst
    steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the
    Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might
    haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none
    to guard it but boyes.
    Enter.


    Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures.


      Con. O Diable


       Orl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdie


       Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,
    Reproach, and euerlasting shame
    Sits mocking in our Plumes.


    A short Alarum.


    O meschante Fortune, do not runne away


       Con. Why all our rankes are broke


       Dol. O perdurable shame, let's stab our selues:
    Be these the wretches that we plaid at dice for?
      Orl. Is this the King we sent too, for his ransome?
      Bur. Shame, and eternall shame, nothing but shame,
    Let vs dye in once more backe againe,
    And he that will not follow Burbon now,
    Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand
    Like a base Pander hold the Chamber doore,
    Whilst a base slaue, no gentler then my dogge,
    His fairest daughter is contaminated


       Con. Disorder that hath spoyl'd vs, friend vs now,
    Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liues


       Orl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field,
    To smother vp the English in our throngs,
    If any order might be thought vpon


       Bur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng;
    Let life be short, else shame will be too long.
    Enter.


    Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.


      King. Well haue we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen,
    But all's not done, yet keepe the French the field


       Exe. The D[uke]. of York commends him to your Maiesty
      King. Liues he good Vnckle: thrice within this houre
    I saw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting,
    From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he was


       Exe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye,
    Larding the plaine: and by his bloody side,
    (Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds)
    The Noble Earle of Suffolke also lyes.
    Suffolke first dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouer
    Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
    And takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashes
    That bloodily did yawne vpon his face.
    He cryes aloud; Tarry my Cosin Suffolke,
    My soule shall thine keepe company to heauen:
    Tarry (sweet soule) for mine, then flye a-brest:
    As in this glorious and well-foughten field
    We kept together in our Chiualrie.
    Vpon these words I came, and cheer'd him vp,
    He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
    And with a feeble gripe, sayes: Deere my Lord,
    Commend my seruice to my Soueraigne,
    So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes necke
    He threw his wounded arme, and kist his lippes,
    And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
    A Testament of Noble-ending-loue:
    The prettie and sweet manner of it forc'd
    Those waters from me, which I would haue stop'd,
    But I had not so much of man in mee,
    And all my mother came into mine eyes,
    And gaue me vp to teares


       King. I blame you not,
    For hearing this, I must perforce compound
    With mixtfull eyes, or they will issue to.


    Alarum


    But hearke, what new alarum is this same?
    The French haue re-enforc'd their scatter'd men:
    Then euery souldiour kill his Prisoners,
    Giue the word through.


    Exit


    Actus Quartus.


    Enter Fluellen and Gower.


      Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely
    against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery
    marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience
    now, is it not?
      Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the
    Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done
    this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away
    all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King
    most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners
    throat. O 'tis a gallant King


       Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:
    What call you the Townes name where Alexander the
    pig was borne?
      Gow. Alexander the Great


       Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or
    the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous,
    are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variations


       Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in
    Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I
    take it


       Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is
    porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of
    the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene
    Macedon &Monmouth, that the situations looke
    you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, &there
    is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at
    Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name
    of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers
    is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you
    marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is
    come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all
    things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his
    rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and
    his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations,
    and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in
    his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend
    Clytus


       Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd
    any of his friends


       Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the
    tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak
    but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander
    kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so
    also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his
    good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the
    great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and
    knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name


       Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe


       Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne
    at Monmouth


       Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.


    Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.


      King. I was not angry since I came to France,
    Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,
    Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:
    If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,
    Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.
    If they'l do neither, we will come to them,
    And make them sker away, as swift as stones
    Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
    Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,
    And not a man of them that we shall take,
    Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
    Enter Montioy.


      Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege
      Glou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be


       King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowst
    thou not,
    That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?
    Com'st thou againe for ransome?
      Her. No great King:
    I come to thee for charitable License,
    That we may wander ore this bloody field,
    To booke our dead, and then to bury them,
    To sort our Nobles from our common men.
    For many of our Princes (woe the while)
    Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:
    So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbes
    In blood of Princes, and with wounded steeds
    Fret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage
    Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,
    Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,
    To view the field in safety, and dispose
    Of their dead bodies


       Kin. I tell thee truly Herald,
    I know not if the day be ours or no,
    For yet a many of your horsemen peere,
    And gallop ore the field


       Her. The day is yours


       Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:
    What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by


       Her. They call it Agincourt


       King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
    Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus


       Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please
    your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke
    Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought
    a most praue pattle here in France


       Kin. They did Fluellen


       Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties
    is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a
    Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their
    Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre
    is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue
    your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon
    S[aint]. Tauies day


       King. I weare it for a memorable honor:
    For I am Welch you know good Countriman


       Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your Maiesties
    Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:
    God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases his
    Grace, and his Maiesty too


       Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen


       Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I
    care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I
    need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God
    so long as your Maiesty is an honest man


       King. Good keepe me so.
    Enter Williams.


    Our Heralds go with him,
    Bring me iust notice of the numbers dead
    On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither


       Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King


       Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thy
    Cappe?
      Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of one
    that I should fight withall, if he be aliue


       Kin. An Englishman?
      Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd
    with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to
    challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe
    a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he
    swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil
    strike it out soundly


       Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this
    souldier keepe his oath


       Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't please
    your Maiesty in my conscience


       King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of great
    sort quite from the answer of his degree


       Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is,
    as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke
    your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee
    bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a
    villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd
    vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law
      King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st
    the fellow


       Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue


       King. Who seru'st thou vnder?
      Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege


       Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge
    and literatured in the Warres


       King. Call him hither to me, Souldier


       Will. I will my Liege.
    Enter.


      King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and
    sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were
    downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If
    any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an
    enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend
    him, and thou do'st me loue


       Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be
    desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see
    the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe
    agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see
    it once, and please God of his grace that I might see


       King. Know'st thou Gower?
      Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you


       King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to my
    Tent


       Flu. I will fetch him.
    Enter.


      King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,
    Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.
    The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,
    May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.
    It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should
    Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:
    If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudge
    By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;
    Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:
    For I doe know Fluellen valiant,
    And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,
    And quickly will returne an iniurie.
    Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.
    Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.


    Exeunt.


    Enter Gower and Williams.


      Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.
    Enter Fluellen.


      Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech
    you now, come apace to the King: there is more good
    toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to
    dreame of


       Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?
      Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue


       Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.


    Strikes him.


      Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuersall
    World, or in France, or in England


       Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine


       Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?
      Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treason
    his payment into plowes, I warrant you


       Will. I am no Traytor


       Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his
    Maiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke
    Alansons.
    Enter Warwick and Gloucester.


      Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter?
      Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God
    for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke
    you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his
    Maiestie.
    Enter King and Exeter.


      King. How now, what's the matter?
      Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,
    that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue which
    your Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson


       Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow
    of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare
    it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met
    this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as
    good as my word


       Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties
    Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie
    Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie
    and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue
    of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience
    now


       King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;
    Looke, heere is the fellow of it:
    'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,
    And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes


       Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answere
    for it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World


       King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?
      Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuer
    came any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie


       King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse


       Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you
    appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the
    Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what
    your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you
    take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you
    beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I
    beseech your Highnesse pardon me


       King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,
    And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,
    And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,
    Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:
    And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him


       Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell
    enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for
    you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of
    prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I
    warrant you it is the better for you


       Will. I will none of your Money


       Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue
    you to mend your shooes: come, wherefore should you
    be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: 'tis a good
    silling I warrant you, or I will change it.
    Enter Herauld.


      King. Now Herauld, are the dead numbred?
      Herald. Heere is the number of the slaught'red
    French


       King. What Prisoners of good sort are taken,
    Vnckle?
      Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King,
    Iohn Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchiquald:
    Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires,
    Full fifteene hundred, besides common men


       King. This Note doth tell me of ten thousand French
    That in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number,
    And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye dead
    One hundred twentie six: added to these,
    Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen,
    Eight thousand and foure hundred: of the which,
    Fiue hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights.
    So that in these ten thousand they haue lost,
    There are but sixteene hundred Mercenaries:
    The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,
    And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie.
    The Names of those their Nobles that lye dead:
    Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
    Iaques of Chatilion, Admirall of France,
    The Master of the Crosse-bowes, Lord Rambures,
    Great Master of France, the braue Sir Guichard Dolphin,
    Iohn Duke of Alanson, Anthonie Duke of Brabant,
    The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie,
    And Edward Duke of Barr: of lustie Earles,
    Grandpree and Roussie, Fauconbridge and Foyes,
    Beaumont and Marle, Vandemont and Lestrale.
    Here was a Royall fellowship of death.
    Where is the number of our English dead?
    Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke,
    Sir Richard Ketly, Dauy Gam Esquire;
    None else of name: and of all other men,
    But fiue and twentie.
    O God, thy Arme was heere:
    And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone,
    Ascribe we all: when, without stratagem,
    But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile,
    Was euer knowne so great and little losse?
    On one part and on th' other, take it God,
    For it is none but thine


       Exet. 'Tis wonderfull


       King. Come, goe we in procession to the Village:
    And be it death proclaymed through our Hoast,
    To boast of this, or take that prayse from God,
    Which is his onely


       Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maiestie, to tell
    how many is kill'd?
      King. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowledgement,
    That God fought for vs


       Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did vs great good


       King. Doe we all holy Rights:
    Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum,
    The dead with charitie enclos'd in Clay:
    And then to Callice, and to England then,
    Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.


    Exeunt.


    Actus Quintus.


    Enter Chorus.


    Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story,
    That I may prompt them: and of such as haue,
    I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
    Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
    Which cannot in their huge and proper life,
    Be here presented. Now we beare the King
    Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene,
    Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts,
    Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach
    Pales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes,
    Whose shouts &claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea,
    Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King,
    Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land,
    And solemnly see him set on to London.
    So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen now
    You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath:
    Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borne
    His bruised Helmet, and his bended Sword
    Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it,
    Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride;
    Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent,
    Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold,
    In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought,
    How London doth powre out her Citizens,
    The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort,
    Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome,
    With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles,
    Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Cæsar in:
    As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood,
    Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse,
    As in good time he may, from Ireland comming,
    Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword;
    How many would the peacefull Citie quit,
    To welcome him? much more, and much more cause,
    Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
    As yet the lamentation of the French
    Inuites the King of Englands stay at home:
    The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France,
    To order peace betweene them: and omit
    All the occurrences, what euer chanc't,
    Till Harryes backe returne againe to France:
    There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'd
    The interim, by remembring you 'tis past.
    Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance,
    After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France.
    Enter.


    Enter Fluellen and Gower.


      Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your
    Leeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past


       Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore
    in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine
    Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging
    Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World,
    know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no
    merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and
    sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke:
    it was in a place where I could not breed no contention
    with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap
    till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little
    piece of my desires.
    Enter Pistoll.


      Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock


       Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks .
    God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsie
    Knaue, God plesse you


       Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, base
    Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence;
    I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke


       Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at
    my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate,
    looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not
    loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your
    disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you
    to eate it


       Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats


       Flu. There is one Goat for you.


    Strikes him.


    Will you be so good, scauld Knaue, as eate it?
      Pist. Base Troian, thou shalt dye


       Flu. You say very true, scauld Knaue, when Gods
    will is: I will desire you to liue in the meane time, and
    eate your Victuals: come, there is sawce for it. You
    call'd me yesterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make
    you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if
    you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke


       Gour. Enough Captaine, you haue astonisht him


       Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke,
    or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is
    good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxecombe


       Pist. Must I bite


       Flu. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of question
    too, and ambiguities


       Pist. By this Leeke, I will most horribly reuenge I
    eate and eate I sweare


       Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauce
    to your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sweare by


       Pist. Quiet thy Cudgell, thou dost see I eate


       Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay,
    pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your
    broken Coxcombe; when you take occasions to see
    Leekes heereafter, I pray you mocke at 'em, that is all


       Pist. Good


       Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat to
    heale your pate


       Pist. Me a groat?
      Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haue
    another Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate


       Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of reuenge


       Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels,
    you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of
    me but cudgels: God bu'y you, and keepe you, &heale
    your pate.


    Exit


      Pist. All hell shall stirre for this


       Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue,
    will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vppon an
    honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Trophee
    of predeceased valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds
    any of your words. I haue seene you gleeking &galling
    at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because
    he could not speake English in the natiue garb, he could
    not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it otherwise,
    and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach
    you a good English condition, fare ye well.


    Exit


      Pist. Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now?
    Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i'th Spittle of a malady
    of France, and there my rendeuous is quite cut off:
    Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is
    Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to
    Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and
    there Ile steale:
    And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres,
    And swore I got them in the Gallia warres.
    Enter.


    Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke, and
    other
    Lords. At another, Queene Isabel, the King, the Duke of
    Bourgougne, and
    other French.


      King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met;
    Vnto our brother France, and to our Sister
    Health and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishes
    To our most faire and Princely Cosine Katherine:
    And as a branch and member of this Royalty,
    By whom this great assembly is contriu'd,
    We do salute you Duke of Burgogne,
    And Princes French and Peeres health to you all


       Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face,
    Most worthy brother England, fairely met,
    So are you Princes (English) euery one


       Quee. So happy be the Issue brother Ireland
    Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,
    As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
    Your eyes which hitherto haue borne
    In them against the French that met them in their bent,
    The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes:
    The venome of such Lookes we fairely hope
    Haue lost their qualitie, and that this day
    Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue


       Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare


       Quee. You English Princes all, I doe salute you


       Burg. My dutie to you both, on equall loue.
    Great Kings of France and England: that I haue labour'd
    With all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuors,
    To bring your most Imperiall Maiesties
    Vnto this Barre, and Royall enterview;
    Your Mightinesse on both parts best can witnesse.
    Since then my Office hath so farre preuayl'd,
    That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye,
    You haue congreeted: let it not disgrace me,
    If I demand before this Royall view,
    What Rub, or what Impediment there is,
    Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace,
    Deare Nourse of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births,
    Should not in this best Garden of the World,
    Our fertile France, put vp her louely Visage?
    Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas'd,
    And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes,
    Corrupting in it owne fertilitie.
    Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
    Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd,
    Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre,
    Put forth disorder'd Twigs: her fallow Leas,
    The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary,
    Doth root vpon; while that the Culter rusts,
    That should deracinate such Sauagery:
    The euen Meade, that erst brought sweetly forth
    The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and greene Clouer,
    Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke;
    Conceiues by idlenesse, and nothing teemes,
    But hatefull Docks, rough Thistles, Keksyes, Burres,
    Loosing both beautie and vtilitie;
    And all our Vineyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges,
    Defectiue in their natures, grow to wildnesse.
    Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children,
    Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time,
    The Sciences that should become our Countrey;
    But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,
    That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,
    To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus'd Attyre,
    And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall.
    Which to reduce into our former fauour,
    You are assembled: and my speech entreats,
    That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace
    Should not expell these inconueniences,
    And blesse vs with her former qualities


       Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,
    Whose want giues growth to th' imperfections
    Which you haue cited; you must buy that Peace
    With full accord to all our iust demands,
    Whose Tenures and particular effects
    You haue enschedul'd briefely in your hands


       Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as yet
    There is no Answer made


       Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before so vrg'd,
    Lyes in his Answer


       France. I haue but with a curselarie eye
    O're-glanc't the Articles: Pleaseth your Grace
    To appoint some of your Councell presently
    To sit with vs once more, with better heed
    To re-suruey them; we will suddenly
    Passe our accept and peremptorie Answer


       England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter,
    And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Gloucester,
    Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King,
    And take with you free power, to ratifie,
    Augment, or alter, as your Wisdomes best
    Shall see aduantageable for our Dignitie,
    Any thing in or out of our Demands,
    And wee'le consigne thereto. Will you, faire Sister,
    Goe with the Princes, or stay here with vs?
      Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them:
    Happily a Womans Voyce may doe some good,
    When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be stood on


       England. Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs,
    She is our capitall Demand, compris'd
    Within the fore-ranke of our Articles


       Quee. She hath good leaue.


    Exeunt. omnes.


    Manet King and Katherine


       King. Faire Katherine, and most faire,
    Will you vouchsafe to teach a Souldier tearmes,
    Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare,
    And pleade his Loue-suit to her gentle heart


       Kath. Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speake
    your England


       King. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me soundly
    with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you confesse
    it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you
    like me, Kate?
      Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me


       King. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an
    Angell


       Kath. Que dit il que Ie suis semblable a les Anges?
      Lady. Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit il


       King. I said so, deare Katherine, and I must not blush
    to affirme it


       Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein de
    tromperies


       King. What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues of
    men are full of deceits?
      Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits:
    dat is de Princesse


       King. The Princesse is the better English-woman:
    yfaith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderstanding, I am
    glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou
    could'st, thou would'st finde me such a plaine King, that
    thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my
    Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly
    to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther,
    then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue
    me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine:
    how say you, Lady?
      Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well


       King. Marry, if you would put me to Verses, or to
    Dance for your sake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one
    I haue neither words nor measure; and for the other, I
    haue no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in
    strength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape-frogge, or by
    vawting into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe;
    vnder the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should
    quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my
    Loue, or bound my Horse for her fauours, I could lay on
    like a Butcher, and sit like a Iack an Apes, neuer off. But
    before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaspe out
    my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in protestation;
    onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vse till vrg'd,
    nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canst loue a fellow
    of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-burning?
    that neuer lookes in his Glasse, for loue of any
    thing he sees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I speake
    to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canst loue me for this,
    take me? if not? to say to thee that I shall dye, is true; but
    for thy loue, by the L[ord]. No: yet I loue thee too. And
    while thou liu'st, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and
    vncoyned Constancie, for he perforce must do thee right,
    because he hath not the gift to wooe in other places: for
    these fellowes of infinit tongue, that can ryme themselues
    into Ladyes fauours, they doe alwayes reason themselues
    out againe. What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is
    but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will
    stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will
    grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax
    hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the
    Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it
    shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course
    truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and
    take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King.
    And what say'st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire,
    and fairely, I pray thee


       Kath. Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of
    Fraunce?
      King. No, it is not possible you should loue the Enemie
    of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue
    the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I
    will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine:
    and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours
    is France, and you are mine


       Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat


       King. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am
    sure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife
    about her Husbands Necke, hardly to be shooke off; Ie
    quand sur le possession de Fraunce, &quand vous aues le
    possession
    de moy. (Let mee see, what then? Saint Dennis bee
    my speede) Donc vostre est Fraunce, &vous estes mienne.
    It is as easie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to
    speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in
    French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me


       Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, le Francois ques vous parleis, il
    &melieus que l' Anglois le quel Ie parle


       King. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of
    my Tongue, and I thine, most truely falsely, must
    needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, doo'st
    thou vnderstand thus much English? Canst thou loue
    mee?
      Kath. I cannot tell


       King. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile
    aske them. Come, I know thou louest me: and at night,
    when you come into your Closet, you'le question this
    Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
    her disprayse those parts in me, that you loue with your
    heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather
    gentle Princesse, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou
    beest mine, Kate, as I haue a sauing Faith within me tells
    me thou shalt; I get thee with skambling, and thou
    must therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder:
    Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint
    George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English,
    that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by
    the Beard. Shall wee not? what say'st thou, my faire
    Flower-de-Luce


       Kate. I doe not know dat


       King. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise:
    doe but now promise Kate, you will endeauour for your
    French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie,
    take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How answer
    you. La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trescher &deuin
    deesse


       Kath. Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to
    deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce


       King. Now fye vpon my false French: by mine Honor
    in true English, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare
    not sweare thou louest me, yet my blood begins to flatter
    me, that thou doo'st; notwithstanding the poore and
    vntempering effect of my Visage. Now beshrew my
    Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres
    when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne
    out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come
    to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder
    I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that
    Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more
    spoyle vpon my Face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at
    the worst; and thou shalt weare me, if thou weare me,
    better and better: and therefore tell me, most faire Katherine,
    will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blushes,
    auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of
    an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of
    England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner
    blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England
    is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry
    Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his
    Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt
    finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer
    in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and
    thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine,
    breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou
    haue me?
      Kath. Dat is as it shall please de Roy mon pere


       King. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please
    him, Kate


       Kath. Den it sall also content me


       King. Vpon that I kisse your Hand, and I call you my
    Queene


       Kath. Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne
    veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le
    main d' une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse moy. Ie
    vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur


       King. Then I will kisse your Lippes, Kate


       Kath. Les Dames &Damoisels pour estre baisee deuant
    leur nopcese il net pas le costume de Fraunce


       King. Madame, my Interpreter, what sayes shee?
      Lady. Dat it is not be de fashon pour le Ladies of
    Fraunce; I cannot tell wat is buisse en Anglish


       King. To kisse


       Lady. Your Maiestee entendre bettre que moy


       King. It is not a fashion for the Maids in Fraunce to
    kisse before they are marryed, would she say?
      Lady. Ouy verayment


       King. O Kate, nice Customes cursie to great Kings.
    Deare Kate, you and I cannot bee confin'd within the
    weake Lyst of a Countreyes fashion: wee are the makers
    of Manners, Kate; and the libertie that followes
    our Places, stoppes the mouth of all finde-faults, as I
    will doe yours, for vpholding the nice fashion of your
    Countrey, in denying me a Kisse: therefore patiently,
    and yeelding. You haue Witch-craft in your Lippes,
    Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of
    them, then in the Tongues of the French Councell; and
    they should sooner perswade Harry of England, then a
    generall Petition of Monarchs. Heere comes your
    Father.
    Enter the French Power, and the English Lords.


      Burg. God saue your Maiestie, my Royall Cousin,
    teach you our Princesse English?
      King. I would haue her learne, my faire Cousin, how
    perfectly I loue her, and that is good English


       Burg. Is shee not apt?
      King. Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condition
    is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyce nor
    the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot so coniure vp
    the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true
    likenesse


       Burg. Pardon the franknesse of my mirth, if I answer
    you for that. If you would coniure in her, you must
    make a Circle: if coniure vp Loue in her in his true
    likenesse, hee must appeare naked, and blinde. Can you
    blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd ouer with the
    Virgin Crimson of Modestie, if shee deny the apparance
    of a naked blinde Boy in her naked seeing selfe? It were
    (my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to consigne
    to


       King. Yet they doe winke and yeeld, as Loue is blind
    and enforces


       Burg. They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they see
    not what they doe


       King. Then good my Lord, teach your Cousin to
    consent winking


       Burg. I will winke on her to consent, my Lord, if you
    will teach her to know my meaning: for Maides well
    Summer'd, and warme kept, are like Flyes at Bartholomew-tyde,
    blinde, though they haue their eyes, and then
    they will endure handling, which before would not abide
    looking on


       King. This Morall tyes me ouer to Time, and a hot
    Summer; and so I shall catch the Flye, your Cousin, in
    the latter end, and she must be blinde to


       Burg. As Loue is my Lord, before it loues


       King. It is so: and you may, some of you, thanke
    Loue for my blindnesse, who cannot see many a faire
    French Citie for one faire French Maid that stands in my
    way


       French King. Yes my Lord, you see them perspectiuely:
    the Cities turn'd into a Maid; for they are
    all gyrdled with Maiden Walls, that Warre hath entred


       England. Shall Kate be my Wife?
      France. So please you


       England. I am content, so the Maiden Cities you
    talke of, may wait on her: so the Maid that stood in
    the way for my Wish, shall shew me the way to my
    Will


       France. Wee haue consented to all tearmes of reason


       England. Is't so, my Lords of England?
      West. The King hath graunted euery Article:
    His Daughter first; and in sequele, all,
    According to their firme proposed natures


       Exet. Onely he hath not yet subscribed this:
    Where your Maiestie demands, That the King of France
    hauing any occasion to write for matter of Graunt, shall
    name your Highnesse in this forme, and with this addition,
    in French: Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre
    Heretere de Fraunce: and thus in Latine; Praeclarissimus
    Filius noster Henricus Rex Angliæ &Heres Franciae


       France. Nor this I haue not Brother so deny'd,
    But your request shall make me let it passe


       England. I pray you then, in loue and deare allyance,
    Let that one Article ranke with the rest,
    And thereupon giue me your Daughter


       France. Take her faire Sonne, and from her blood rayse vp
    Issue to me, that the contending Kingdomes
    Of France and England, whose very shoares looke pale,
    With enuy of each others happinesse,
    May cease their hatred; and this deare Coniunction
    Plant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accord
    In their sweet Bosomes: that neuer Warre aduance
    His bleeding Sword 'twixt England and faire France


       Lords. Amen


       King. Now welcome Kate: and beare me witnesse all,
    That here I kisse her as my Soueraigne Queene.


    Flourish.


      Quee. God, the best maker of all Marriages,
    Combine your hearts in one, your Realmes in one:
    As Man and Wife being two, are one in loue,
    So be there 'twixt your Kingdomes such a Spousall,
    That neuer may ill Office, or fell Iealousie,
    Which troubles oft the Bed of blessed Marriage,
    Thrust in betweene the Paction of these Kingdomes,
    To make diuorce of their incorporate League:
    That English may as French, French Englishmen,
    Receiue each other. God speake this Amen


       All. Amen


       King. Prepare we for our Marriage: on which day,
    My Lord of Burgundy wee'le take your Oath
    And all the Peeres, for suretie of our Leagues.
    Then shall I sweare to Kate, and you to me,
    And may our Oathes well kept and prosp'rous be.


    Senet. Exeunt.


    Enter Chorus.


    Thus farre with rough, and all-vnable Pen,
    Our bending Author hath pursu'd the Story,
    In little roome confining mightie men,
    Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
    Small time: but in that small, most greatly liued
    This Starre of England. Fortune made his Sword;
    By which, the Worlds best Garden he atchieued:
    And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord.
    Henry the Sixt, in Infant Bands crown'd King
    Of France and England, did this King succeed:
    Whose State so many had the managing,
    That they lost France, and made his England bleed:
    Which oft our Stage hath showne; and for their sake,
    In your faire minds let this acceptance take.


    FINIS. The Life of Henry the Fift.