text: William Shakespeare The Life of King 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. 
   
   
   Publication Date: May 29th 2008 https://www.bookrix.com/-bx.shakespeare