prompt:
Chapter: 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Chorus The two armies are situated very close to one another and the noises from each camp can be heard by the enemy. The chorus indicates the the French are eagerly waiting for the night to go away and that they are supremely overconfident in their victory the next morning. The English, meanwhile, are quietly sitting by their fires looking tired and haggard. King Henry has disguised himself as a common soldier and is visiting his men at each tent in an attempt to lift up their spirits. Act Four, Scene One Henry tells his brothers, Clarence and Gloucester, that the army is in grave danger and therefore they need even greater courage. Sir Erpingham, an elderly man, arrives. Henry asks him for his cloak and puts it on, thereby disguising himself as one of the soldiers. He commands Clarence and Gloucester to gather the princes in the camp at his pavilion. In the meantime he himself goes to visit the common soldiers. Pistol hears Henry approaching and demands his name. Henry replies with Henry le roi, French for "the King." Pistol leaves and Fluellen and Gower arrive, but are unaware that Henry is standing nearby watching them. Fluellen admonishes Gower for talking too loudly, and tells him that just because the French army is unable to be quiet, that does not mean the English army has a right to be overly loud. Both captains leave, and King Henry remarks that although unconventional at times, Fluellen is a very good captain. Three soldiers, named Bates, Court, and Williams, enter and greet King Henry, who now pretends to be a member of Erpingham's company. Henry tells them that, "I think the King is but a man, as I am" . They are unwilling to fight since they are afraid of dying the next day, but Henry tells them that there is no other place he would rather be than fighting for the King. He further adds that, "I myself heard the King say he would not be ransomed" , indicating the King will fight to the death rather than surrender. Williams, one of the soldiers, does not believe him and says that the king could easily break his word to them. Henry pretends to take offense at this, and claims that he has been challenged. He agrees to fight Williams if they both survive the battle. They trade gloves and promise to wear the gloves in their bonnets so that they will be able to recognize each other in the future. Williams, after taking the king's glove, tells him he will box him on the ears if he ever returns to accept the challenge. Bates tells the two men, "Be friends, you English fools, be friends. We have French quarrels enough" . The soldiers exit, and Henry is left alone. He remarks that the soldiers want to blame all their troubles on the King, and mimics what Williams was saying, "Let us our lives, our souls, our debts, our care-full wives, / Our children, and our sins, lay on the King" . Henry then comments, "And what have kings that privates have not too, / Save ceremony, save general ceremony?" . He insists that the only thing that separates a king from the commoners is the use of ceremony. Erpingham finds Henry and tells him that the nobles are gathered and that they are worried about him since he has been gone so long. Henry quickly says a short prayer, asking God to forgive the fact that his father usurped the throne from Richard II. Gloucester arrives and Henry returns with him to meet the nobles. Act Four, Scene Two In the French camp, the Dukes of Bourbon and Orleans and Lord Rambures discuss the wonderful morning in anticipation of the coming battle. The Constable arrives and remarks on how spirited their horses seem, and Bourbon tells him they should prick the horses hides so the blood will spray out into the English soldiers' eyes. A messenger interrupts their discourse and informs them that the English have already formed battle lines. The Constable rallies the men by telling them their appearance alone will make the English run away. Lord Grandpre enters the camp and asks the lords why they are waiting to go to battle. He tells them the English have already walked onto the battle field. He then proceeds to describe the English as "cadaver" and "desperate to their bones" . The other men laugh at the description and finally the Constable orders them to go to the field. Act Four, Scene Three The English lords and dukes are assembled, waiting for Henry to arrive and wondering what has happened to him. Clarence informs them that Henry has gone to look at the French army, which Warwick claims has sixty thousand men in it. Exeter comments that the English are thereby outnumbered five to one, and the French also have been well fed rather than on a starvation diet. Salisbury exclaims, "'Tis a fearful odds" , but he nonetheless goes to his command post to lead his troops. Henry enters the gathering from behind and overhears Warwick wishing for another ten thousand men. Henry speaks to Warwick and the assembled men and says, "No, my fair cousin. / ...The fewer men, the greater share of honour" . He tells them that any soldier who does not wish to fight with them should be allowed to leave immediately, because he does not want to share the honor of the battle with such a man. Henry then proceeds to give what is famously known as his "Crispin Day Speech" because he emphasizes that every man will always remember that on this Feast of Crispian they were wounded while defeating France for the glory of England. In some of his most famous lines, Henry states, "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. / For he today that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother" . The Earl of Salisbury enters again and tells Henry that the French are already on the field of battle and marching towards them. King Henry orders his lords to take up their battle stations. He then meets with Montjoy, a messenger sent by the Constable of France, for one last negotiation. Montjoy asks him if he will agree to the terms that were previously offered him . Henry tells him to come and collect his bones himself rather then expect them to be handed over willingly. He then sends Montjoy away, telling to not come again if it is to ask him for surrender. Act Four, Scene Four Pistol, accompanied by the Boy, has come across a French soldier whom he is threatening to kill. He first makes fun of the man's French, but soon has the Boy translate for him. Pistol tells the man that he will kill him unless he pays a ransom. The man agrees to give Pistol two hundred crowns for which he is let loose and ordered to follow Pistol so that he can pay him. The Boy comments at the end that Pistol is far worse a thief than Bardolph or Nim ever were. He then remarks that if the French were only aware that most of the luggage in the camp was guarded by mere boys then they would have an easy time of stealing it. Act Four, Scene Five The French leaders, namely the Constable, Bourbon, Orleans and Rambures meet briefly on the battlefield. They all say that the day is lost and that the army is in complete disarray. Bourbon finally takes charge of the situation, saying, "The devil take order. Once more back again! / And he that will not follow Bourbon now, / Let him go home, and with his cap in hand" . The Constable agrees with him, and they return to the battle. Act Four, Scene Six Henry enters the stage with his soldiers and their prisoners. Exeter meets him and tells him that York, who lead the charge, commends himself to King Henry. Henry asks Exeter whether York is still alive. Exeter then tells how Suffolk fell first and died on the battlefield, at which point York went over to where Suffolk lay and also fell down. York told Suffolk that he would join him in heaven and died with him arm around the other man's neck. Henry is saddened by the loss of his men but does not have time for tears. He realizes that the French have regrouped on the field and are leading another attack. Henry tells his soldiers to kill their prisoners so they can keep fighting, which they do. Pistol ends the scene by saying, "Cut the throat" in French. Act Four, Scene Seven Fluellen and Gower are outside Henry's pavilion discussing the decisions that Henry has made throughout the play. Fluellen compares Henry to Alexander the Great and draws a long analogy between the two men and the places where they were born. When Fluellen mentions that Alexander killed his friend Cleitus in anger, Gower interrupts him and says, "Our King is not like him in that. He never killed any of his friends" . Fluellen tells Gower not to cut him off prematurely, and then points out that Henry turned away Sir John Falstaff. King Henry enters with his army and the new French prisoners including Bourbon and Orleans. Henry tells his herald that he was not angry before but he is now because some horsemen are standing on a hill refusing to attack the English but also refusing to retreat. He orders the Herald to inform that they should vacate the field or he will kill off all of the prisoners. Montjoy enters at that moment and begs permission from Henry to allow the French to catalog their dead and separate the noblemen from the common soldiers. Henry tells him that he does not know if he has won yet since the horsemen are still riding around the battlefield. Montjoy tells him that he has conquered the French army and that the castle located nearby is Agincourt. Henry then declares the battle to have taken place on the field Agincourt, thereby naming the battle. Fluellen comments that Henry's ancestor Edward the Black Prince won a valiant battle in France as well. Henry agrees with him. Fluellen then tells Henry that at the time the Welsh fought in a leek garden and put leeks into their hats, a symbol that is still a sign of a Welsh soldier. He lastly praises Henry as his king and tells him that he will never be ashamed of him, "so long as your majesty is an honest man" . Williams enters with Henry's glove in his cap and Henry orders Exeter to fetch him. He asks Williams why he is wearing the glove, and Williams tells him that he has a feud to settle with the owner. Henry then orders Williams to go fetch Captain Gower and bring him. Once Williams has left, Henry hands Fluellen the glove he received from Williams and tells him to wear it in his hat. He further gives instructions that Fluellen should arrest any man that challenges him on account of the glove. He then sends Fluellen to fetch Gower as well, knowing that Fluellen and Williams will meet each other. Henry tells Warwick and Gloucester what he has done, and orders them to follow Fluellen and prevent him from harming Williams. Act Four, Scene Eight Williams enters with Gower, telling Gower that Henry probably want to see him in order to knight him. Fluellen soon arrives and Williams, seeing the glove, challenges Fluellen by hitting him. Fluellen calls him a traitor and orders Gower to stand aside so he may arrest Williams. Warwick and Gloucester arrive and ask what the problem is. Henry soon appears with Exeter, and Fluellen hands Williams over to Henry. Henry matches up the two pairs of gloves and tells Williams that he was the man whom Williams promised to hit. He then has Exeter fill the glove with crowns and give it Williams, whom he tells to wear it in his cap. Williams, insulted by the way things have turned out, says, "I will none of your money" . Fluellen encourages Williams to take the money, although whether he does is ambiguous. A messenger arrives and gives Henry a list of the French dead. Henry tells his men that over ten thousand French soldiers died, a large number of whom were high ranking nobility. He is then handed another piece of paper listing the English dead, which only lists four men of high rank and twenty-five common soldiers. He orders them to go to the village and allows Fluellen to tell the soldiers how many French they killed.


prompt:
Chapter: 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 C�sar 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 Angli� & 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Chorus The chorus tells how Henry returned to London to a triumphant homecoming. They describe how all the people were celebrating out on the streets and cheering for their conqueror. The chorus compares the cheering crowds to those that might greet the Earl of Essex, "the general to our gracious Empress" , when he returns from Ireland. The chorus then moves ahead in time and comments on the fact that Henry invaded France twice more, in 1417 and in 1420, the latter date being the first scene of Act Five. Act Five, Scene One Gower and Fluellen are at the English camp in France. Gower asks Fluellen why he is wearing a leek in his hat given that St. Davy's day is past. Fluellen tells him that Pistol approached him the day before with salt and spread and asked him to eat the leek in his hat. Since there were other men around, Fluellen could not challenge him, but instead decided to wear the leek in his hat until he saw Pistol again so that he can get revenge. Pistol enters and makes fun of the smell of the leek in Fluellen's hat, telling him it will cut short his life. Fluellen takes the leek and asks Pistol to eat it since he has been so insulting to the Welsh symbol. Pistol refuses, and Fluellen strikes him. He continues striking Pistol until the man takes the leek and starts to eat it. Once Pistol finishes eating it, Fluellen offers him four pence for for his trouble. Pistol accepts the money and Fluellen leaves. Gower further admonishes Pistol for mocking the ancient Welsh custom of wearing the leeks and also departs. Pistol remains onstage and informs the audience that his wife Hostess Quickly has died from the French Disease . He decides to return to England, work as a thief, and pretend the marks he just received from Fluellen are battle scars. Act Five, Scene Two King Henry meets with King Charles for the first time, accompanied by many lords and attendants of both their courts. They greet each other and then listen to hear what Burgundy has to say. Burgundy compares France to an overgrown garden than needs to have peace in order to become productive again. King Henry tells him that peace will come as soon as Charles answers to his demands. Charles asks Henry to appoint some of his men to go over the documents and articles with him once more, after which he promises to give his answer. Henry sends all of the nobles who came with him, giving them power to negotiate and ratify on his behalf. Everyone leaves to discuss the documents except for Henry and Charles' daughter Katherine and her servant. Henry turns to Catherine and says, "Fair Catherine, and most fair, / Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms / Such as will enter a lady's ear / And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?" . Catherine tells him he is mocking her and that, "the tongues of men are full of deceits" . Henry tells her that he is a plain man who cannot woo her with words other than to tell her he loves her. She gives straightforward answers to him that can also be considered coy depending on how comically the scene is played. Henry finally decides to speak to her in French in a effort to get her to understand him. Catherine tells him he speaks better French than she English, a compliment that Henry denies. He continues trying to woo her until she finally tells him that she will accept him as long as it pleases her father. Henry accepts this as a good enough answer and tries to kiss her hand. She stops him and tells him he should not debase himself by kissing her hand. Henry then tells her he will instead kiss her lips, but again she stops him, claiming it is not the custom in France. Henry tells her, "nice customs curtsy to great kings" and kisses her. King Charles returns along with the rest of the lords. Burgundy asks Henry if he was teaching Catherine how to speak English, but Henry informs him he was trying to conjure up an image of his love for her. Burgundy promises to help Henry win her heart. Henry then asks whether Catherine will become his wife. King Charles tells him that if that is what he desires, then he consents. Exeter informs Henry that Charles has signed all the articles except one that would make him sign all documents with his name and also add "Henry,...heir of France". Charles quickly agrees to this article as well and Henry kisses Catherine as his future queen. Act Five, Epilogue The chorus enters and tells the audience that King Henry conquered the garden of France which he left to his son Henry VI. Being an infant king, Henry VI had so many lords managing both kingdoms that they lost France and caused England to erupt into civil war. The play ends on this dark note and asks the audience to find favor with what they have seen.


prompt:
Chapter: 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Chorus steps on stage and kicks things off with a bang by asking for a "muse of fire" to help the theater company portray "a kingdom for a stage." Translation: Shakespeare means serious business in this play. Then the Chorus tells us to get ready to rumble because we're about to watch "two mighty monarchies" go toe-to-toe over the French crown. We interrupt this program for an important brain snack: When we say "the Chorus," we're not talking about the kids from Glee. In Henry V, the Chorus is a single character who sets the scene for us at the beginning of each act. It's a throwback to the old school Choruses that we see in Greek tragedies like Antigone and Oedipus the King. Now, back to our show. After pumping us up for some serious drama, the Chorus then apologizes because there's no way the theater can accurately represent Henry V's war against France on a tiny little stage with just a handful of actors. The Chorus tells us that we have to use our imaginations to help bring the events to life, since it's impossible for the theater to "hold the vastly fields of France" and the thousands of soldiers and horses that were involved in the historic battle at Agincourt.


prompt:
Chapter: 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Chorus enters and calls upon the "Muse" to help in presenting this play since it deals with such a lofty subject matter. The Chorus explains that the small Elizabethan stage can hardly transform itself into the fields of France, or into an English court, or into a battlefield upon which thousands of horses and soldiers fight; with imagination, however, when "we talk of horses . . . you see them" moving across the landscape. Thus the greatness of the subject matter -- a subject dealing with England's ideal king, Henry V -- requires that the audience exert its greatest imagination to be able to see in their minds the vastness and the splendor that the play recalls. The audience must also be tolerant of the actors who attempt to portray personages of such high estate. And finally, the audience must be prepared for "jumping o'er times" back and forth, from England to France.


prompt:
Chapter: 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Chorus reappears at the beginning of each act to set the scene, to summarize events not shown, and to announce changes of location and passage of time. It is an acknowledgement of the limits of the theater in presenting such epic events as the battle of Agincourt. The audience must do its work too.


prompt:
Chapter: 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

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Chorus bids the audience imagine that they have seen the King sail for France with his fleet. Then he encourages the audience to imagine a siege of the French town of Harfleur. King Charles offers England his daughter Catherine in marriage, as well as some territory of little importance, but this is not considered sufficient. The siege goes on. (Historically, Charles made this offer two months before Henry sailed for France, but Shakespeare places it at the siege of Harfleur for dramatic effect.