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  • Title: Henry V (Modern, Folio)
  • Editor: James D. Mardock
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-409-7

    Copyright James D. Mardock. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: James D. Mardock
    Peer Reviewed

    Henry V (Modern, Folio)

    The Life of Henry the Fifth
    1Enter [Chorus as] Prologue.
    O for a muse of fire, that would ascend
    The brightest heaven of invention,
    A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
    5And monarchs to behold the swelling scene.
    Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
    Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels,
    Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire
    Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,
    10The flat unraisèd spirits that hath dared,
    On this unworthy scaffold, to bring forth
    So great an object. Can this cockpit hold
    The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
    Within this wooden O the very casques
    15That did affright the air at Agincourt?
    Oh, pardon, since a crooked figure may
    Attest in little place a million,
    And let us, ciphers to this great account,
    On your imaginary forces work.
    20Suppose within the girdle of these walls
    Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
    Whose high, uprearèd, and abutting fronts
    The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.
    Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
    25Into a thousand parts divide one man,
    And make imaginary puissance.
    Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
    Printing their proud hooves i'th'receiving earth.
    For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
    30Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times,
    Turning th'accomplishment of many years
    Into an hourglass: for the which supply,
    Admit me Chorus to this history,
    Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray
    35Gently to hear, kindly to judge our play.
    Enter [the Archbishop of] Canterbury and [the Bishop of] Ely.
    My lord, I'll tell you, that self bill is urged
    40Which in th'eleventh year of the last king's reign
    Was like, and had indeed against us passed,
    But that the scambling and unquiet time
    Did push it out of further question.
    But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?
    It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
    We lose the better half of our possession,
    For all the temporal lands which men devout
    By testament have given to the Church
    Would they strip from us, being valued thus:
    50As much as would maintain, to the king's honor,
    Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,
    Six thousand and two hundred good esquires,
    And to relief of lazars and weak age
    Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil,
    55A hundred almshouses, right well supplied;
    And to the coffers of the king beside,
    A thousand pounds by th'year. Thus runs the bill.
    This would drink deep.
    'Twould drink the cup and all.
    But what prevention?
    The king is full of grace and fair regard.
    And a true lover of the holy Church.
    The courses of his youth promised it not.
    65The breath no sooner left his father's body,
    But that his wildness, mortified in him,
    Seemed to die too. Yea, at that very moment,
    Consideration like an angel came,
    And whipped th'offending Adam out of him,
    70Leaving his body as a paradise,
    T'envelop and contain celestial spirits.
    Never was such a sudden scholar made,
    Never came reformation in a flood
    With such a heady currence scouring faults,
    75Nor never hydra-headed willfulness
    So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
    As in this king.
    We are blessèd in the change.
    Hear him but reason in divinity,
    80And, all-admiring, with an inward wish
    You would desire the king were made a prelate.
    Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
    You would say it hath been all in all his study.
    List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
    85A fearful battle rendered you in music.
    Turn him to any cause of policy,
    The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
    Familiar as his garter; that when he speaks,
    The air, a chartered libertine, is still,
    90And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears
    To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences,
    So that the art and practic part of life
    Must be the mistress to this theoric.
    Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it,
    95Since his addiction was to courses vain,
    His companies unlettered, rude, and shallow,
    His hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports,
    And never noted in him any study,
    Any retirement, any sequestration
    100From open haunts and popularity.
    The strawberry grows underneath the nettle,
    And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
    Neighbored by fruit of baser quality;
    And so the prince obscured his contemplation
    105Under the veil of wildness, which no doubt
    Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
    Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.
    It must be so, for miracles are ceased,
    And therefore we must needs admit the means
    110How things are perfected.
    But my good lord,
    How now for mitigation of this bill
    Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty
    Incline to it or no?
    He seems indifferent,
    Or rather swaying more upon our part,
    Than cherishing th'exhibitors against us;
    For I have made an offer to his majesty,
    Upon our spiritual convocation,
    120And in regard of causes now in hand,
    Which I have opened to his grace at large,
    As touching France, to give a greater sum
    Than ever at one time the clergy yet
    Did to his predecessors part withal.
    How did this offer seem received, my lord?
    With good acceptance of his majesty,
    Save that there was not time enough to hear,
    As I perceived his grace would fain have done,
    The severals and unhidden passages
    130Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms,
    And generally to the crown and seat of France
    Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather.
    What was th'impediment that broke this off?
    The French ambassador upon that instant
    135Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come
    To give him hearing. Is it four o'clock?
    It is.
    Then go we in to know his embassy,
    Which I could with a ready guess declare
    140Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.
    I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.
    Enter the King, Humphrey [Duke of Gloucester], Bedford, Clarence, Warwick, Westmorland, and Exeter[, with attendants].
    145King Henry
    Where is my gracious lord of Canterbury?
    Not here in presence.
    King Henry
    Send for him, good uncle.
    [Exit attendant.]
    Shall we call in th'ambassador, my liege?
    King Henry
    Not yet, my cousin. We would be resolved,
    150Before we hear him, of some things of weight
    That task our thoughts concerning us and France.
    Enter [the] two Bishops[, Canterbury and Ely].
    God and his angels guard your sacred throne
    And make you long become it.
    155King Henry
    Sure we thank you.
    My learnèd lord, we pray you to proceed,
    And justly and religiously unfold
    Why the law Salic, that they have in France,
    Or should or should not bar us in our claim.
    160And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
    That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
    Or nicely charge your understanding soul
    With opening titles miscreate, whose right
    Suits not in native colors with the truth.
    165For God doth know how many now in health
    Shall drop their blood in approbation
    Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
    Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
    How you awake our sleeping sword of war;
    170We charge you in the name of God, take heed.
    For never two such kingdoms did contend
    Without much fall of blood, whose guiltless drops
    Are every one a woe, a sore complaint
    'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords
    175That makes such waste in brief mortality.
    Under this conjuration speak, my lord,
    For we will hear, note, and believe in heart
    That what you speak is in your conscience washed
    As pure as sin with baptism.
    Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers
    That owe your selves, your lives and services
    To this imperial throne. There is no bar
    To make against your highness' claim to France
    But this, which they produce from Pharamond:
    185"In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant" --
    "No woman shall succeed in Salic land" --
    Which Salic land the French unjustly gloss
    To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
    The founder of this law and female bar.
    190Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
    That the land Salic is in Germany,
    Between the floods of Saale and of Elbe,
    Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons,
    There left behind and settled certain French
    195Who, holding in disdain the German women
    For some dishonest manners of their life,
    Established then this law: to wit, no female
    Should be inheritrix in Salic land,
    Which Salic, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Saale,
    200Is at this day in Germany, called Meissen.
    Then doth it well appear the Salic law
    Was not devisèd for the realm of France,
    Nor did the French possess the Salic land
    Until four hundred one-and-twenty years
    205After defunction of King Pharamond,
    Idly supposed the founder of this law,
    Who died within the year of our redemption
    Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
    Subdued the Saxons and did seat the French
    210Beyond the river Saale in the year
    Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say
    King Pepin, which deposèd Childeric,
    Did as heir general, being descended
    Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Chlothar,
    215Make claim and title to the crown of France.
    Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown
    Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
    Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
    To find his title with some shows of truth --
    220Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught --
    Conveyed himself as th'heir to th'lady Lingare,
    Daughter to Charlemagne, who was the son
    To Louis the emperor, and Louis the son
    Of Charles the Great. Also King Louis the Tenth,
    225Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
    Could not keep quiet in his conscience
    Wearing the crown of France till satisfied
    That fair Queen Isabelle, his grandmother,
    Was lineal of the lady Ermengarde,
    230Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine,
    By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
    Was reunited to the crown of France.
    So that, as clear as is the summer's sun,
    King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim,
    235King Louis his satisfaction, all appear
    To hold in right and title of the female;
    So do the kings of France unto this day,
    Howbeit they would hold up this Salic law
    To bar your highness claiming from the female,
    240And rather choose to hide them in a net
    Than amply to embar their crooked titles
    Usurped from you and your progenitors.
    King Henry
    May I with right and conscience make this claim?
    The sin upon my head, dread sovereign.
    245For in the book of Numbers is it writ:
    "When the man dies, let the inheritance
    Descend unto the daughter." Gracious lord,
    Stand for your own. Unwind your bloody flag,
    Look back into your mighty ancestors.
    250Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb,
    From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
    And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
    Who on the French ground played a tragedy,
    Making defeat on the full power of France
    255Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
    Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
    Forage in blood of French nobility.
    Oh, noble English, that could entertain
    With half their forces the full pride of France
    260And let another half stand laughing by,
    All out of work and cold for action!
    Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
    And with your puissant arm renew their feats.
    You are their heir, you sit upon their throne,
    265The blood and courage that renownèd them
    Runs in your veins, and my thrice-puissant liege
    Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
    Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
    Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
    270Do all expect that you should rouse yourself
    As did the former lions of your blood.
    They know your grace hath cause, and means, and might;
    So hath your highness. Never king of England
    Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
    275Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
    And lie pavilioned in the fields of France.
    Oh, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
    With bloods and sword and fire to win your right.
    In aid whereof, we of the spiritualty
    280Will raise your highness such a mighty sum
    As never did the clergy at one time
    Bring in to any of your ancestors.
    King Henry
    We must not only arm t'invade the French,
    But lay down our proportions to defend
    285Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
    With all advantages.
    They of those marches, gracious sovereign,
    Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
    Our inland from the pilfering borderers.
    290King Henry
    We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
    But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
    Who hath been still a giddy neighbor to us.
    For you shall read that my great-grandfather
    Never went with his forces into France
    295But that the Scot on his unfurnished kingdom
    Came pouring like the tide into a breach
    With ample and brim fullness of his force,
    Galling the gleanèd land with hot assays,
    Girding with grievous siege castles and towns,
    300That England, being empty of defense,
    Hath shook and trembled at th'ill neighborhood.
    She hath been then more feared than harmed, my liege.
    For hear her but exampled by herself:
    When all her chivalry hath been in France
    305And she a mourning widow of her nobles,
    She hath herself not only well defended,
    But taken and impounded as a stray
    The king of Scots, whom she did send to France
    To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings
    310And make their chronicle as rich with praise
    As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
    With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
    But there's a saying very old and true:
    "If that you will France win,
    Then with Scotland first begin."
    315For once the eagle England being in prey,
    To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
    Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs,
    Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
    To 'tame and havoc more than she can eat.
    It follows then the cat must stay at home,
    Yet that is but a crushed necessity,
    Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries
    And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
    While that the armèd hand doth fight abroad,
    325Th'advisèd head defends itself at home.
    For government, though high and low and lower
    Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
    Congreeing in a full and natural close
    Like music.
    Therefore doth heaven divide
    The state of man in divers functions,
    Setting endeavor in continual motion,
    To which is fixèd, as an aim or butt,
    Obedience. For so work the honeybees,
    335Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
    The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
    They have a king, and officers of sorts,
    Where some like magistrates correct at home;
    Others like merchants venture trade abroad;
    340Others, like soldiers armèd in their stings,
    Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
    Which pillage they with merry march bring home
    To the tent-royal of their emperor,
    Who, busied in his majesties, surveys
    345The singing masons building roofs of gold,
    The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
    The poor mechanic porters crowding in
    Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
    The sad-eyed justice with his surly hum
    350Delivering o'er to executors pale
    The lazy yawning drone. I this infer:
    That many things, having full reference
    To one consent, may work contrariously.
    As many arrows loosèd several ways
    355Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town,
    As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea,
    As many lines close in the dial's center,
    So may a thousand actions once afoot
    End in one purpose, and be all well borne
    360Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
    Divide your happy England into four,
    Whereof take you one quarter into France,
    And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
    If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
    365Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,
    Let us be worried, and our nation lose
    The name of hardiness and policy.
    King Henry
    Call in the messengers sent from the dauphin.
    [Exit attendant.]
    Now are we well resolved, and by God's help
    370And yours, the noble sinews of our power,
    France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
    Or break it all to pieces. Or there we'll sit,
    Ruling in large and ample empery
    O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,
    375Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
    Tombless, with no remembrance over them.
    Either our history shall with full mouth
    Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
    Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
    380Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph. --
    Enter Ambassadors of France.
    Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure
    Of our fair cousin dauphin, for we hear
    Your greeting is from him, not from the king.
    May't please your majesty to give us leave
    Freely to render what we have in charge,
    Or shall we sparingly show you far off
    The dauphin's meaning and our embassy?
    King Henry
    We are no tyrant, but a Christian king,
    390Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
    As is our wretches fettered in our prisons.
    Therefore with frank and with uncurbèd plainness
    Tell us the dauphin's mind.
    Thus, then, in few:
    395Your highness, lately sending into France,
    Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right
    Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
    In answer of which claim, the prince our master
    Says that you savor too much of your youth,
    400And bids you be advised, there's naught in France
    That can be with a nimble galliard won;
    You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
    He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
    This tun of treasure, and in lieu of this,
    405Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
    Hear no more of you. This the dauphin speaks.
    King Henry
    What treasure, uncle?
    Tennis balls, my liege.
    King Henry
    We are glad the dauphin is so pleasant with us.
    410His present and your pains we thank you for.
    When we have matched our rackets to these balls,
    We will in France, by God's grace, play a set
    Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
    Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
    415That all the courts of France will be disturbed
    With chases. And we understand him well,
    How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
    Not measuring what use we made of them.
    We never valued this poor seat of England,
    420And therefore living hence, did give ourself
    To barbarous license, as 'tis ever common
    That men are merriest when they are from home.
    But tell the dauphin I will keep my state,
    Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness
    425When I do rouse me in my throne of France.
    For that I have laid by my majesty
    And plodded like a man for working days,
    But I will rise there with so full a glory
    That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
    430Yea, strike the dauphin blind to look on us.
    And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his
    Hath turned his balls to gunstones, and his soul
    Shall stand sore chargèd for the wasteful vengeance
    That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows
    435Shall this, his mock, mock out of their dear husbands,
    Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down,
    And some are yet ungotten and unborn
    That shall have cause to curse the dauphin's scorn.
    But this lies all within the will of God,
    440To whom I do appeal, and in whose name
    Tell you the dauphin I am coming on
    To venge me as I may, and to put forth
    My rightful hand in a well-hallowed cause.
    So get you hence in peace, and tell the dauphin
    445His jest will savor but of shallow wit
    When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. --
    Convey them with safe conduct. -- Fare you well.
    Exeunt Ambassadors.
    This was a merry message.
    450King Henry
    We hope to make the sender blush at it.
    Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
    That may give furtherance to our expedition,
    For we have now no thought in us but France,
    Save those to God, that run before our business.
    455Therefore let our proportions for these wars
    Be soon collected, and all things thought upon
    That may with reasonable swiftness add
    More feathers to our wings, for, God before,
    We'll chide this dauphin at his father's door.
    460Therefore let every man now task his thought
    That this fair action may on foot be brought.
    Flourish. Enter Chorus.
    Now all the youth of England are on fire
    And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies.
    465Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought
    Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
    They sell the pasture now to buy the horse,
    Following the mirror of all Christian kings
    With wingèd heels, as English Mercuries.
    470For now sits expectation in the air
    And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
    With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets
    Promised to Harry and his followers.
    The French, advised by good intelligence
    475Of this most dreadful preparation,
    Shake in their fear, and with pale policy
    Seek to divert the English purposes.
    O England, model to thy inward greatness,
    Like little body with a mighty heart,
    480What mightst thou do, that honor would thee do,
    Were all thy children kind and natural!
    But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out:
    A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
    With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men,
    485One, Richard, Earl of Cambridge, and the second
    Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham, and the third
    Sir Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland,
    Have for the gilt of France -- oh, guilt indeed! --
    Confirmed conspiracy with fearful France.
    490And by their hands this grace of kings must die,
    If hell and treason hold their promises,
    Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
    Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
    Th'abuse of distance, force a play.
    495The sum is paid, the traitors are agreed,
    The king is set from London, and the scene
    Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton.
    There is the playhouse now, there must you sit,
    And thence to France shall we convey you safe
    500And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
    To give you gentle pass; for if we may,
    We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
    But when the king come forth, and not till then,
    Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
    505Enter Corporal Nym and Lieutenant Bardolph.
    Well met, Corporal Nym.
    Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
    What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
    For my part, I care not. I say little, but when 510time shall serve, there shall be smiles. But that shall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? It will toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man's sword will, and there's an end.
    I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends, and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France. LetÊŒt be so, good Corporal Nym.
    Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it. And when I cannot live any longer, I will do 520as I may. That is my rest; that is the rendezvous of it.
    It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.
    I cannot tell; things must be as they may. Men 525may sleep, and they may have their throats about them at that time, and some say knives have edges. It must be as it may. Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.
    530Enter Pistol and [Hostess, formerly Mistress] Quickly.
    Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good corporal, be patient here. -- How now, mine host Pistol?
    Base tyke, call'st thou me host? Now by this 535hand I swear I scorn the term! Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
    No, by my troth, not long, for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be 540thought we keep a bawdy house straight.
    [Nym draws his sword.]
    Oh, welladay, lady, if he be not hewn now, we shall see willful adultery and murder committed!
    Good lieutenant, good corporal, offer nothing here.
    Pish for thee, Iceland dog, thou prick-eared cur of Iceland.
    Good Corporal Nym, show thy valor and put up your sword.
    Will you shog off? [To Pistol] I would have you solus.
    "Solus," egregious dog? O viper vile! The "solus" in thy most marvelous face. The "solus" in thy teeth, and in thy throat, and in thy hateful lungs, yea in thy maw, perdy. And which is worse, within thy nasty mouth. I do retort the "solus" in thy bowels, for I can take, and 555Pistol's cock is up, and flashing fire will follow.
    I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humor to knock you indifferently well. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms. If you would walk 560off, I would prick your guts a little in good terms, as I may, and that's the humor of it.
    O braggart vile, and damnèd furious wight,
    The grave doth gape, and doting death is near,
    Therefore exhale.
    [Pistol draws his sword.]
    Hear me, hear me what I say. [Draws his sword (?)] He that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
    An oath of mickle might, and fury shall abate.
    [They sheathe their swords.]
    Give me thy fist. Thy forefoot to me give. Thy spirits 570are most tall.
    I will cut thy throat one time or other in fair terms. That is the humor of it.
    Couple a gorge, that is the word. I defy thee again! O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? 575No, to the Spital go, and from the powd'ring tub of infamy fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, Doll Tearsheet, she by name, and her espouse. I have, and I will hold the quondam Quickly for the only she, and pauca, there's enough. Go to.
    580Enter the Boy.
    Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and your hostess. He is very sick and would to bed. -- Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill.
    Away, you rogue.
    By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days. The king has killed his heart. Good husband, come home presently.
    Exeunt [Boy and Hostess.]
    Come, shall I make you two friends? We must 590to France together. Why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?
    Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on.
    [To Pistol] You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you 595at betting?
    Base is the slave that pays.
    That now I will have. That's the humor of it.
    As manhood shall compound. Push home.
    [They] draw [their swords.]
    [Drawing his sword (?)] By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, 600I'll kill him. By this sword, I will.
    Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
    [Sheathes his sword]
    Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends. An thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me, too. Prithee, put up.
    [Nym and Bardolph sheathe their swords. (?)]
    A noble shalt thou have, and present pay. And liquor likewise will I give to thee, and friendship shall combine, and brotherhood. I'll live by Nym and Nym shall live by me. Is not this just? For I shall sutler be unto the camp, and profits will accrue. Give me 610thy hand.
    I shall have my noble?
    In cash most justly paid.
    Well, then that's the humor of't.
    [Pistol and Nym shake hands. (?)]
    Enter Hostess.
    As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John. A poor heart, he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.
    The king hath run bad humors on the knight. 620That's the even of it.
    Nym, thou hast spoke the right. His heart is fracted and corroborate.
    The king is a good king, but it must be as it may. He passes some humors and careers.
    Let us condole the knight, for lambkins, we will live.
    Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmorland.
    'Fore God, his grace is bold to trust these traitors.
    They shall be apprehended by and by.
    How smooth and even they do bear themselves,
    As if allegiance in their bosoms sat
    Crownèd with faith and constant loyalty.
    The king hath note of all that they intend
    By interception, which they dream not of.
    Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
    Whom he hath dulled and cloyed with gracious favors,
    That he should for a foreign purse so sell
    His sovereign's life to death and treachery!
    Sound trumpets. 640Enter the King, Scrope, Cambridge, and Grey[, and attendants.]
    King Henry
    Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. --
    My lord of Cambridge, and my kind lord of Masham,
    And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts:
    Think you not that the powers we bear with us
    645Will cut their passage through the force of France,
    Doing the execution and the act
    For which we have in head assembled them?
    No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
    King Henry
    I doubt not that, since we are well persuaded
    650We carry not a heart with us from hence
    That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
    Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
    Success and conquest to attend on us.
    Never was monarch better feared and loved
    655Than is your majesty. There's not, I think, a subject
    That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
    Under the sweet shade of your government.
    True. Those that were your father's enemies
    Have steeped their galls in honey and do serve you
    660With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
    King Henry
    We therefore have great cause of thankfulness,
    And shall forget the office of our hand
    Sooner than quittance of desert and merit,
    According to the weight and worthiness.
    So service shall with steelèd sinews toil,
    And labor shall refresh itself with hope
    To do your grace incessant services.
    King Henry
    We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,
    Enlarge the man committed yesterday
    670That railed against our person. We consider
    It was excess of wine that set him on,
    And on his more advice we pardon him.
    That's mercy, but too much security.
    Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example
    675Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
    King Henry
    Oh, let us yet be merciful.
    So may your highness, and yet punish too.
    Sir, you show great mercy if you give him life
    After the taste of much correction.
    680King Henry
    Alas, your too much love and care of me
    Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.
    If little faults proceeding on distemper
    Shall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eye
    When capital crimes, chewed, swallowed, and digested,
    685Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,
    Though Cambridge, Scrope, and Grey, in their dear care
    And tender preservation of our person
    Would have him punished. And now to our French causes. --
    Who are the late commissioners?
    I one, my lord.
    Your highness bade me ask for it today.
    So did you me, my liege.
    And I, my royal sovereign.
    King Henry
    [Giving them papers] Then Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours.
    695There yours, Lord Scrope of Masham; and sir knight,
    Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.
    Read them and know I know your worthiness. --
    My lord of Westmorland, and uncle Exeter,
    We will aboard to night. -- Why, how now, gentlemen?
    700What see you in those papers that you lose
    So much complexion? Look ye how they change:
    Their cheeks are paper! Why, what read you there
    That have so cowarded and chased your blood
    Out of appearance?
    I do confess my fault,
    And do submit me to your highness' mercy.
    Grey, Scrope
    To which we all appeal.
    King Henry
    The mercy that was quick in us but late
    By your own counsel is suppressed and killed.
    710You must not dare for shame to talk of mercy,
    For your own reasons turn into your bosoms
    As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. --
    See you, my princes and my noble peers,
    These English monsters: my lord of Cambridge here,
    715You know how apt our love was to accord
    To furnish him with all appurtenants
    Belonging to his honor. And this man
    Hath for a few light crowns lightly conspired
    And sworn unto the practices of France
    720To kill us here in Hampton. To the which
    This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
    Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn.-- But oh,
    What shall I say to thee, Lord Scrope, thou cruel,
    Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature?
    725Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
    That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
    That almost mightst have coined me into gold,
    Wouldst thou have practiced on me for thy use?
    May it be possible that foreign hire
    730Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
    That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange
    That though the truth of it stands off as gross
    As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.
    Treason and murder ever kept together
    735As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
    Working so grossly in unnatural cause
    That admiration did not whoop at them.
    But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
    Wonder to wait on treason and on murder,
    740And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
    That wrought upon thee so preposterously
    Hath got the voice in hell for excellence;
    And other devils, that suggest by treasons,
    Do botch and bungle up damnation
    745With patches, colors, and with forms being fetched
    From glist'ring semblances of piety.
    But he that tempered thee, bade thee stand up,
    Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason
    Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
    750If that same demon that hath gulled thee thus
    Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
    He might return to vasty Tartar back
    And tell the legions, "I can never win
    A soul so easy as that Englishman's."
    755Oh, how hast thou with jealousy infected
    The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?
    Why so didst thou. Seem they grave and learnèd?
    Why so didst thou. Come they of noble family?
    Why so didst thou. Seem they religious?
    760Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
    Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
    Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
    Garnished and decked in modest complement,
    Not working with the eye without the ear,
    765And but in purgèd judgment trusting neither?
    Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem.
    And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot
    To make the full-fraught man, and best, indued
    With some suspicion. I will weep for thee,
    770For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
    Another fall of man.-- Their faults are open.
    Arrest them to the answer of the law,
    And God acquit them of their practices.
    I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of 775Richard Earl of Cambridge. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord Scrope of Masham. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland.
    Our purposes God justly hath discovered,
    And I repent my fault more than my death,
    Which I beseech your highness to forgive,
    Although my body pay the price of it.
    For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
    785Although I did admit it as a motive
    The sooner to effect what I intended.
    But God be thankèd for prevention,
    Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,
    Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
    Never did faithful subject more rejoice
    At the discovery of most dangerous treason
    Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself,
    Prevented from a damnèd enterprise.
    My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
    795King Henry
    God quit you in his mercy. Hear your sentence:
    You have conspired against our royal person,
    Joined with an enemy proclaimed and from his coffers
    Received the golden earnest of our death,
    Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
    800His princes and his peers to servitude,
    His subjects to oppression and contempt,
    And his whole kingdom into desolation.
    Touching our person seek we no revenge,
    But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
    805Whose ruin you sought, that to her laws
    We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence,
    Poor miserable wretches, to your death,
    The taste whereof God of his mercy give
    You patience to endure, and true repentance
    810Of all your dear offences. -- Bear them hence.
    [Exeunt traitors, guarded.]
    Now, lords, for France, the enterprise whereof
    Shall be to you as us like glorious.
    We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
    Since God so graciously hath brought to light
    815This dangerous treason lurking in our way
    To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
    But every rub is smoothèd on our way.
    Then forth, dear countrymen. Let us deliver
    Our puissance into the hand of God,
    820Putting it straight in expedition.
    Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance.
    No king of England if not king of France.
    Flourish. [Exeunt.]
    Enter Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostess.
    Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring 825thee to Staines.
    No, for my manly heart doth earn. Bardolph, be blithe. Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins. Boy, bristle thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead, and we must earn therefore.
    Would I were with him wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell.
    Nay, sure he's not in hell. He's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A made a finer end, and went away an it had been any christom 835child. A parted ev'n just between twelve and one, ev'n at the turning o'th'tide. For after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his finger's end, I knew there was but one way. For his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a babbled of green fields. "How now, 840Sir John?" quoth I. "What, man, be o' good cheer!" So a cried out, "God, God, God," three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So a bade me lay more clothes on his 845feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone. Then I felt to his knees, and so up-peered, and upward and all was as cold as any stone.
    They say he cried out of sack.
    Ay, that a did.
    And of women.
    Nay, that a did not.
    Yes, that a did, and said they were devils incarnate.
    A could never abide carnation; 'twas a 855color he never liked.
    A said once the devil would have him about women.
    A did in some sort, indeed, handle women, but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.860
    Do you not remember a saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose, and a said it was a black soul burning in hell?
    Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire. 865That's all the riches I got in his service.
    Shall we shog? The king will be gone from Southampton.
    Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. [Kisses her]Look to my chattels and my moveables. Let senses rule. 870The world is pitch-and-pay. Trust none, for oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, and Holdfast is the only dog, my duck, therefore caveto be thy counselor. Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, let us to France like 875horse-leeches, my boys: to suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!
    And that's but unwholesome food, they say.
    Touch her soft mouth and march.
    [Kisses her] Farewell, hostess.
    I cannot kiss, that is the humor of it, but adieu.
    Let housewifery appear. Keep close, I thee command.
    Farewell. Adieu.
    885Flourish. Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes of Berry and Brittany[, and the Constable of France].
    French King
    Thus comes the English with full power upon us,
    And more than carefully it us concerns
    890To answer royally in our defenses.
    Therefore the Dukes of Berry and of Brittany,
    Of Brabant and of Orléans shall make forth,
    And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch
    To line and new repair our towns of war
    895With men of courage and with means defendant,
    For England his approaches makes as fierce
    As waters to the sucking of a gulf.
    It fits us then to be as provident
    As fear may teach us, out of late examples
    900Left by the fatal and neglected English
    Upon our fields.
    My most redoubted father,
    It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe,
    For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,
    905Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,
    But that defenses, musters, preparations
    Should be maintained, assembled, and collected
    As were a war in expectation.
    Therefore I say 'tis meet we all go forth
    910To view the sick and feeble parts of France.
    And let us do it with no show of fear,
    No, with no more than if we heard that England
    Were busied with a Whitsun morris dance.
    For, my good liege, she is so idly kinged,
    915Her scepter so fantastically borne
    By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,
    That fear attends her not.
    Oh, peace, Prince Dauphin.
    You are too much mistaken in this king.
    920Question your grace the late ambassadors --
    With what great state he heard their embassy,
    How well supplied with noble counselors,
    How modest in exception, and withal
    How terrible in constant resolution --
    925And you shall find his vanities forespent
    Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
    Covering discretion with a coat of folly,
    As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
    That shall first spring and be most delicate.
    Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable.
    But though we think it so, it is no matter.
    In cases of defense, 'tis best to weigh
    The enemy more mighty than he seems.
    So the proportions of defense are filled,
    935Which of a weak and niggardly projection
    Doth like a miser spoil his coat with scanting
    A little cloth.
    French King
    Think we King Harry strong,
    And princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
    940The kindred of him hath been fleshed upon us,
    And he is bred out of that bloody strain
    That haunted us in our familiar paths:
    Witness our too much memorable shame
    When Crécy battle fatally was struck,
    945And all our princes captived by the hand
    Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales,
    Whiles that his mountain sire on mountain standing
    Up in the air, crowned with the golden sun,
    Saw his heroical seed and smiled to see him
    950Mangle the work of nature, and deface
    The patterns that by God and by French fathers
    Had twenty years been made. This is a stem
    Of that victorious stock, and let us fear
    The native mightiness and fate of him.
    955Enter a Messenger.
    Ambassadors from Harry, King of England,
    Do crave admittance to your majesty.
    French King
    We'll give them present audience; go and bring them.
    [Exit Messenger.]
    960You see this chase is hotly followed, friends.
    Turn head and stop pursuit, for coward dogs
    Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten
    Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
    Take up the English short, and let them know
    965Of what a monarchy you are the head.
    Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
    As self-neglecting.
    Enter Exeter.
    French King
    From our brother of England?
    From him, and thus he greets your majesty:
    He wills you in the name of God almighty
    That you divest yourself, and lay apart
    The borrowed glories that by gift of heaven,
    By law of nature and of nations longs
    975To him and to his heirs, namely the crown
    And all wide-stretchèd honors that pertain
    By custom and the ordinance of times
    Unto the crown of France. That you may know
    'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim
    980Picked from the wormholes of long-vanished days,
    Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,
    He sends you this most memorable line,
    982.1[Gives the French King a paper]
    In every branch truly demonstrative,
    Willing you overlook this pedigree.
    985And when you find him evenly derived
    From his most famed of famous ancestors,
    Edward the Third, he bids you then resign
    Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
    From him, the native and true challenger.
    990French King
    Or else what follows?
    Bloody constraint: for if you hide the crown
    Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
    Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
    In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,
    995That if requiring fail, he will compel.
    And bids you in the bowels of the Lord
    Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy
    On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
    Opens his vasty jaws, and on your head
    1000Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
    The dead men's blood, the privy maidens' groans
    For husbands, fathers, and betrothèd lovers
    That shall be swallowed in this controversy.
    This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message,
    1005Unless the dauphin be in presence here,
    To whom expressly I bring greeting too.
    French King
    For us, we will consider of this further.
    Tomorrow shall you bear our full intent
    Back to our brother of England.
    For the dauphin,
    I stand here for him. What to him from England?
    Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt,
    And anything that may not misbecome
    The mighty sender doth he prize you at.
    1015Thus says my king: an if your father's highness
    Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
    Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty,
    He'll call you to so hot an answer of it
    That caves and womby vaultages of France
    1020Shall chide your trespass and return your mock
    In second accent of his ordinance.
    Say if my father render fair return
    It is against my will, for I desire
    Nothing but odds with England. 1025To that end,
    As matching to his youth and vanity,
    I did present him with the Paris balls.
    He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
    Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe.
    And be assured, you'll find a difference,
    1030As we his subjects have in wonder found,
    Between the promise of his greener days
    And these he masters now. Now he weighs time
    Even to the utmost grain. That you shall read
    In your own losses, if he stay in France.
    1035French King
    Tomorrow shall you know our mind at full.
    Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
    Come here himself to question our delay,
    For he is footed in this land already.
    1040French King
    You shall be soon dispatched with fair conditions.
    A night is but small breath and little pause
    To answer matters of this consequence.
    Flourish. Enter Chorus.
    Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
    In motion of no less celerity
    Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
    The well-appointed king at Dover pier
    Embark his royalty, and his brave fleet
    1050With silken streamers the young Phoebus feigning.
    Play with your fancies, and in them behold
    Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing.
    Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give
    To sounds confused. Behold the threaden sails,
    1055Borne with th'invisible and creeping wind,
    Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,
    Breasting the lofty surge. Oh, do but think
    You stand upon the rivage, and behold
    A city on th'inconstant billows dancing,
    1060For so appears this fleet majestical
    Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
    Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy
    And leave your England as dead midnight, still,
    Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
    1065Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance.
    For who is he whose chin is but enriched
    With one appearing hair, that will not follow
    These culled and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
    Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege.
    1070Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
    With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
    Suppose th'ambassador from the French comes back,
    Tells Harry that the king doth offer him
    Catherine his daughter, and with her to dowry
    1075Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
    The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner
    With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
    Alarum, and chambers go off.
    And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
    1080And eke out our performance with your mind.
    Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester.
    Alarum. [Enter soldiers with] scaling-ladders at Harfleur.
    King Henry
    Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
    1085Or close the wall up with our English dead!
    In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man
    As modest stillness and humility,
    But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
    Then imitate the action of the tiger:
    1090Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood,
    Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage.
    Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
    Let it pry through the portage of the head
    Like the brass cannon. Let the brow o'erwhelm it
    1095As fearfully as doth a gallèd rock
    O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
    Swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean.
    Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
    Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
    1100To his full height. On! On, you noble English,
    Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof,
    Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
    Have in these parts from morn till even fought
    And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
    1105Dishonor not your mothers; now attest
    That those whom you called fathers did beget you.
    Be copy now to men of grosser blood
    And teach them how to war. And you good yeomen,
    Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
    1110The mettle of your pasture. Let us swear
    That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not,
    For there is none of you so mean and base
    That hath not noble luster in your eyes.
    I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
    1115Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
    Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
    Cry "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"
    Alarum, and chambers go off. [Exeunt.]
    Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.
    On, on, on, on, on, to the breach, to the breach!
    Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too hot, and for mine own part, I have not a case of lives. The humor of it is too hot, that is the very plainsong of it.
    The plainsong is most just, for humors do abound, knocks go and come, God's vassals drop and die,
    And sword and shield
    In bloody field
    Doth win immortal fame.
    Would I were in an alehouse in London. I 1130would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.
    And I.
    [Singing] If wishes would prevail with me,
    My purpose should not fail with me,
    But thither would I hie.
    [Singing] As duly --
    But not as truly --
    As bird doth sing on 1135bough.
    Enter Fluellen.
    [Beating them] Up to the breach, you dogs! Avaunt, you cullions!
    Be merciful, great duke, to men of mold! 1140Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage! Abate thy rage, great duke! Good bawcock, bate thy rage. Use lenity, sweet chuck.
    These be good humors! Your honor wins bad humors!
    [Exeunt Pistol, Bardolph, and Nym.]
    [To audience] As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers. I am boy to them all three, but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me, for indeed three such antics do not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and red-faced, by the 1150means whereof a faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword, by the means whereof a breaks words and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath heard that men of few words are the best men, and therefore he scorns to say 1155his prayers, lest a should be thought a coward. But his few bad words are matched with as few good deeds, for a never broke any man's head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute case, 1160bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a fire-shovel. I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves 1165or their handkerchers, which makes much against my manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine, for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and seek some better service. Their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore 1170I must cast it up.
    Exit [Boy].
    Enter Gower.
    Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.
    To the mines? Tell you the duke it is not so good to come to the mines, for look you, the mines is not according to the disciplines of the war. The concavities of it is not sufficient: for look you, th'athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look you, is digged 1180himself, four yard under, the countermines. By Cheshu, I think a will plow up all if there is not better directions.
    The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is given, is altogether directed by 1185an Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i'faith.
    It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?
    I think it be.
    By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world. I will verify as much in his beard. He has no more directions in 1190the true disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppydog.
    Enter Macmorris and Captain Jamy.
    Here a comes, and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him.
    Captain Jamy is a marvelous falorous gentleman, that is certain, and of great expedition and knowledge in th'aunchient wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu, he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the world, in 1200the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.
    I say guid day, Captain Fluellen.
    Good e'en to your worship, good Captain James.
    How now, Captain Macmorris, have you 1205quit the mines? Have the pioneers given o'er?
    By Chrish law, 'tish ill done. The work ish give over, the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand I swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over. I would have blowed up the town, 1210so Chrish save me law, in an hour. Oh, 'tish ill done, 'tish ill done, by my hand 'tish ill done.
    Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you vouchsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of 1215the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication? Partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline; that is the point.
    It sall be verray guid, guid faith, guid captains baith, and I sall quit you with guid leve, as I may pick occasion. That sall I, marry.
    It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the 1225king, and the dukes. It is no time to discourse. The town is besieched, and the trumpet call us to the breach, and we talk, and be Chrish do nothing! 'Tis shame for us all; so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still. It is shame, by my hand; and there is throats to be cut, and works to be 1230done, and there ish nothing done, so Christ sa' me law.
    By the mess, ere these eyes of mine take themselves to slumber, I'll dae guid service, or I'll lig i'th' grund for it; I owe God a death, and I'll pay't as valorously as I may, that sall I surely do. That is the brefe and the long. 1235Marry, I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you twae.
    Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation --
    Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?
    Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I 1245shall think you do not use me with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you, being as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of war and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.
    I do not know you so good a man as myself. So Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
    Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
    Ah, that's a foul fault.
    A parley [is sounded.]
    The town sounds a parley.
    Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war, and there is an end.
    Enter the King and all his train before the gates.
    1260King Henry
    How yet resolves the governor of the town?
    This is the latest parle we will admit,
    Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
    Or like to men proud of destruction
    Defy us to our worst; for as I am a soldier,
    1265A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
    If I begin the batt'ry once again,
    I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
    Till in her ashes she lie burièd.
    The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
    1270And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart,
    In liberty of bloody hand shall range
    With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
    Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
    What is it then to me if impious war,
    1275Arrayed in flames like to the prince of fiends,
    Do with his smirched complexion all fell feats
    Enlinked to waste and desolation?
    What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
    If your pure maidens fall into the hand
    1280Of hot and forcing violation?
    What rein can hold licentious wickedness
    When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
    We may as bootless spend our vain command
    Upon th'enragèd soldiers in their spoil
    1285As send precepts to the leviathan
    To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
    Take pity of your town and of your people
    Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,
    Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
    1290O'er-blows the filthy and contagious clouds
    Of headly murder, spoil, and villainy.
    If not, why in a moment look to see
    The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
    Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters,
    1295Your fathers taken by the silver beards
    And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls,
    Your naked infants spitted upon pikes
    Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
    Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
    1300At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
    What say you? Will you yield and this avoid,
    Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed?
    Enter Governor.
    Our expectation hath this day an end:
    1305The dauphin, whom of succors we entreated,
    Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
    To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king,
    We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
    Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours,
    1310For we no longer are defensible.
    King Henry
    Open your gates. --
    [Exit Governor.]
    Come, uncle Exeter,
    Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain
    And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French.
    Use mercy to them all for us, dear uncle.
    1315The winter coming on and sickness growing
    Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
    Tonight in Harfleur will we be your guest;
    Tomorrow for the march are we addressed.
    Flourish, and [the English] enter the town.
    1320Enter Catherine and [Alice,] an old gentlewoman.
    Alice, tu as été en Angleterre, et tu bien parles le langage.
    Un peu, madame.
    Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne à 1325parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en anglais?
    La main? Elle est appellée de hand.
    De hand. Et les doigts?
    Les doigts -- ma foi, j'oublie les doigts! Mais je me souviendrai: 1330les doigts, je pense qu'ils sont appellés de fingres. Oui, de fingres.
    Le main, de hand, les doigts, les fingres. Je pense que je suis la bonne Ă©colière. J'ai gagnĂ© deux mots d'anglais vistement. Comment appelez vous les ongles?
    Les ongles, nous les appelons de nails.
    De nails. Ă©coutez; dites-moi si je parle bien: de hand, de fingres, et de nails.
    C'est bien dit, madame. Il est fort bon anglais.
    Dites-moi l'anglais pour le bras.
    De arm, madame.
    Et le coude?
    D'elbow. Je m'en fais la rĂ©pĂ©tition de tous les mots que vous m'avez appris dès à prĂ©sent.
    Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.
    Excusez-moi, Alice. Ă©scoutez: d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arma, de bilbow.
    D'elbow, madame.
    O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow. Comment 1350appellez-vous le col?
    De nick, madame.
    De nick. Et le menton?
    De chin.
    De sin. Le col, de nick, le menton, de sin.
    Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en vérité vous prononcez les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.
    Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grâce de Dieu, et en peu de temps.
    N'avez-vous dĂ©jà oubliĂ© ce que je vous ai enseignĂ©?
    Non, et je rĂ©citerai à vous promptement: d'hand, de fingre, de mailĂ©s --
    De nails, madame.
    De nails, de arm, de ilbow --
    Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.
    Ainsi dis-je, d'elbow. De nick, et de sin. Comment appellez-vous le pied et la robe?
    Le foot, madame, et le count.
    Le foot et le count? O Seigneur Dieu, ils sont les mots de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non 1370pour les dames d'honneur d'user! Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! Le foot et le count! NĂ©anmoins, je rĂ©citerai une autre fois ma leçon ensemble: d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, le count.
    Excellent, madame!
    C'est assez pour une fois. Allons-nous à dîner.
    Enter the King of France, the Dauphin, the Constable of France, [the Duke of Brittany,] and others.
    1380French King
    'Tis certain he hath passed the river Somme.
    And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
    Let us not live in France. Let us quit all
    And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
    O Dieu vivant! Shall a few sprays of us,
    1385The emptying of our fathers' luxury,
    Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
    Spurt up so suddenly into the clouds
    And overlook their grafters?
    Normans, but bastard Normans! Norman bastards!
    1390Mort de ma vie, if they march along
    Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom
    To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm
    In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
    Dieu des batailles, where have they this mettle?
    1395Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull,
    On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
    Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
    A drench for sur-reined jades, their barley broth,
    Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
    1400And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
    Seem frosty? Oh, for honor of our land,
    Let us not hang like roping icicles
    Upon our houses' thatch whiles a more frosty people
    Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields!
    1405Poor we may call them in their native lords.
    By faith and honor,
    Our madams mock at us, and plainly say
    Our mettle is bred out, and they will give
    Their bodies to the lust of English youth
    1410To new-store France with bastard warriors.
    They bid us to the English dancing schools
    And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,
    Saying our grace is only in our heels
    And that we are most lofty runaways.
    1415French King
    Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence.
    Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.
    Up, princes, and with spirit of honor edged
    More sharper than your swords, hie to the field.
    Charles d'Alberet, High Constable of France,
    1420You Dukes of Orléans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
    Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy,
    Jaques Châtillon, Rambures, VaudĂ©mont,
    Beaumont, Grandpré, Roucy, and Fauquembergues,
    Foix, Lestrelles, Boucicaut, and Charolais,
    1425High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and kings,
    For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.
    Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
    With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur.
    Rush on his host as doth the melted snow
    1430Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat
    The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon.
    Go down upon him -- you have power enough --
    And in a captive chariot into Rouen
    Bring him our prisoner.
    This becomes the great.
    Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
    His soldiers sick and famished in their march;
    For I am sure when he shall see our army
    He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear
    1440And, 'fore achievement, offer us his ransom.
    French King
    Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy
    And let him say to England that we send
    To know what willing ransom he will give.
    Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
    Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
    French King
    Be patient, for you shall remain with us.
    Now forth, lord constable, and princes all,
    And quickly bring us word of England's fall.
    Enter Captains English and Welsh, Gower 1450and Fluellen[, meeting].
    How now, Captain Fluellen, come you from the bridge?
    I assure you, there is very excellent services committed at the bridge.
    Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
    The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon, and a man that I love and honor with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my live, and my living, and my uttermost power. He is not, God be praised and 1460blessed, any hurt in the world, but keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the pridge. I think in my very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony, and he is a man of no estimation in the world, but I did see 1465him do as gallant service.
    What do you call him?
    He is called Aunchient Pistol.
    I know him not.
    Enter Pistol.
    Here is the man.
    Captain, I thee beseech to do me favors; the Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
    Ay, I praise God, and I have merited some love at his hands.
    Bardolph, a soldier firm and sound of heart, and of buxom valor, hath, by cruel fate and giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, that goddess blind that stands upon the rolling restless stone --
    By your patience, Aunchient Pistol, Fortune is 1480painted blind, with a muffler afore his eyes, to signify to you that fortune is blind; and she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning and inconstant, and mutability, and variation; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a 1485spherical stone, which rowls and rowls and rowls. In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of it. Fortune is an excellent moral.
    Fortune is Bardolph's foe and frowns on him, for he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a be, a damned 1490death. Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free, and let not hemp his windpipe suffocate. But Exeter hath given the doom of death for pax of little price. Therefore go speak -- the duke will hear thy voice -- and let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut with edge of 1495penny-cord and vile reproach. Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
    Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
    Why then, rejoice therefore!
    Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at. For if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire the duke to use his good pleasure and put him to execution; for discipline ought to be used.
    Die and be damned, and fico for thy friendship!
    It is well.
    The fig of Spain!
    Very good.
    Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal. I remember him now: a bawd, a cutpurse.
    I'll assure you, a uttered as prave words at the pridge as you shall see in a summer's day. But it is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.
    Why 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue that now and 1515then goes to the wars to grace himself at his return into London under the form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names, and they will learn you by rote where services were done: at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a 1520convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgraced; what terms the enemy stood on. And this they con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths. And what a beard of the general's cut and a horrid suit of the camp will do 1525among foaming bottles and ale-washed wits is wonderful to be thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be marvelously mistook.
    I tell you what, Captain Gower: I do perceive 1530he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the world he is. If I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. [Drum within] Hark you, the king is coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.
    Drum and Colors. Enter the King and his 1535poor soldiers[, and Gloucester].
    God pless your majesty.
    King Henry
    How now, Fluellen, cam'st thou from the bridge?
    Ay, so please your majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintained the pridge. The French is 1540gone off, look you, and there is gallant and most prave passages. Marry, th'athversary was have possession of the pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge. I can tell your majesty, the duke is a prave man.
    1545King Henry
    What men have you lost, Fluellen?
    The perdition of th'athversary hath been very great, reasonable great. Marry, for my part I think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church: one Bardolph, 1550if your majesty know the man. His face is all bubuckles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames afire, and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red. But his nose is executed, and his fire's out.
    1555King Henry
    We would have all such offenders so cut off, and we give express charge that in our marches through the country there be nothing compelled from the villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful language. For when 1560levity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.
    Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
    You know me by my habit.
    King Henry
    Well then, I know thee. What shall I know 1565of thee?
    My master's mind.
    King Henry
    Unfold it.
    Thus says my king: "Say thou to Harry of England, though we seemed dead, we did but sleep. 1570Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him we could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial: England shall repent his folly, see his 1575weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransom, which must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested, which in weight to re-answer his pettiness would bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is 1580too poor; for th'effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person kneeling at our feet but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add defiance, and tell him for conclusion he hath betrayed his followers, whose 1585condemnation is pronounced." So far my king and master; so much my office.
    King Henry
    What is thy name? I know thy quality.
    King Henry
    Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back
    1590And tell thy king I do not seek him now,
    But could be willing to march on to Calais
    Without impeachment; for to say the sooth,
    Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
    Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,
    1595My people are with sickness much enfeebled,
    My numbers lessened, and those few I have
    Almost no better than so many French,
    Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
    I thought upon one pair of English legs
    1600Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God,
    That I do brag thus; this your air of France
    Hath blown that vice in me. I must repent.
    Go therefore, tell thy master here I am.
    My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk,
    1605My army but a weak and sickly guard.
    Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
    Though France himself and such another neighbor
    Stand in our way.
    [Gives money]
    There's for thy labor, Montjoy.
    Go bid thy master well advise himself.
    1610If we may pass, we will. If we be hindered,
    We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
    Discolor. And so, Montjoy, fare you well.
    The sum of all our answer is but this:
    We would not seek a battle as we are,
    1615Nor as we are, we say, we will not shun it.
    So tell your master.
    I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.
    I hope they will not come upon us now.
    1620King Henry
    We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs. --
    March to the bridge. -- It now draws toward night.
    Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves,
    And on tomorrow bid them march away.
    Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, 1625Orléans, [and the] Dauphin, with others.
    Tut, I have the best armor of the world. Would it were day.
    You have an excellent armor, but let my horse have his due.
    It is the best horse of Europe.
    Will it never be morning?
    My lord of Orléans, and my lord high constable, you talk of horse and armor?
    You are as well provided of both as any 1635prince in the world.
    What a long night is this! I will not change my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. Ch'ha! He bounds from the earth as if his entrails were hairs: le cheval volant, the Pegasus, qui a les narines de 1640feu! When I bestride him, I soar; I am a hawk. He trots the air. The earth sings when he touches it. The basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
    He's of the color of the nutmeg.
    And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for Perseus. He is pure air and fire, and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him. He is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call 1650beasts.
    Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.
    It is the prince of palfreys. His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces 1655homage.
    No more, cousin.
    Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot from the rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb vary deserved praise on my palfrey; it is a theme as 1660fluent as the sea. Turn the sands into eloquent tongues and my horse is argument for them all. 'Tis a subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's sovereign to ride on, and for the world, familiar to us and unknown, to lay apart their particular functions 1665and wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise, and began thus: "Wonder of nature --"
    I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
    Then did they imitate that which I composed 1670to my courser, for my horse is my mistress.
    Your mistress bears well.
    Me well, which is the prescript praise and perfection of a good and particular mistress.
    Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress 1675shrewdly shook your back.
    So perhaps did yours.
    Mine was not bridled.
    Oh, then belike she was old and gentle, and you rode like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, and in 1680your strait strossers.
    You have good judgment in horsemanship.
    Be warned by me then: they that ride so and ride not warily fall into foul bogs. I had rather have 1685my horse to my mistress.
    I had as lief have my mistress a jade.
    I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears his own hair.
    I could make as true a boast as that if I had a 1690sow to my mistress.
    "Le chien est retournĂ© à son propre vomissement, et la truie lavĂ©e au bourbier." Thou makest use of anything.
    Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any such proverb so little kin to the purpose.
    My lord constable, the armor that I saw in your tent tonight: are those stars or suns upon it?
    Stars, my lord.
    Some of them will fall tomorrow, I hope.
    And yet my sky shall not want.
    That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and 'twere more honor some were away.
    Ev'n as your horse bears your praises, who would trot as well were some of your brags dismounted.
    Would I were able to load him with his desert. Will it never be day? I will trot tomorrow a mile, and my way shall be paved with English faces.
    I will not say so for fear I should be faced out of my way, but I would it were morning, for I would 1710fain be about the ears of the English.
    Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners?
    You must first go yourself to hazard ere you have them.
    'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself.
    The dauphin longs for morning.
    He longs to eat the English.
    I think he will eat all he kills.
    By the white hand of my lady, he's a 1720gallant prince.
    Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.
    He is simply the most active gentleman of France.
    Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.
    He never did harm that I heard of.
    Nor will do none tomorrow; he will keep that good name still.
    I know him to be valiant.
    I was told that by one that knows him better than you.
    What's he?
    Marry, he told me so himself, and he said he cared not who knew it.
    He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him.
    By my faith, sir, but it is. Never anybody saw it but his lackey. 'Tis a hooded valor, and when it appears, it will bate.
    Ill will never said well.
    I will cap that proverb with "There is flattery in friendship."
    And I will take up that with "Give the devil his due."
    Well placed. There stands your friend for the devil. Have at the very eye of that proverb with "A pox of the devil."
    You are the better at proverbs by how much "a fool's bolt is soon shot."
    You have shot over.
    'Tis not the first time you were overshot.
    Enter a Messenger.
    My lord high constable, the English lie within fifteen hundred paces of your tents.
    Who hath measured the ground?
    The lord Grandpré.
    A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England. He longs not for the dawning as we do.
    What a wretched and peevish fellow is this king of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so far out of his knowledge!
    If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.
    That they lack, for if their heads had any intellectual armor, they could never wear such heavy headpieces.
    That island of England breeds very valiant creatures. Their mastiffs are of unmatchable 1770courage.
    Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear and have their heads crushed like rotten apples. You may as well say that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a 1775lion.
    Just, just. And the men do sympathize with the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives. And then give them great meals of beef, and iron and steel; they 1780will eat like wolves and fight like devils.
    Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.
    Then shall we find tomorrow they have only stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to 1785arm. Come, shall we about it?
    It is now two o'clock, but let me see: by ten
    We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.
    [Enter] Chorus.
    Now entertain conjecture of a time
    When creeping murmur and the poring dark
    Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
    From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
    The hum of either army stilly sounds,
    1795That the fixed sentinels almost receive
    The secret whispers of each other's watch.
    Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
    Each battle sees the other's umbered face.
    Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
    1800Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents,
    The armorers accomplishing the knights,
    With busy hammers closing rivets up,
    Give dreadful note of preparation.
    The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,
    1805And the third hour of drowsy morning named.
    Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
    The confident and over-lusty French
    Do the low-rated English play at dice,
    And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
    1810Who like a foul and ugly witch doth limp
    So tediously away. The poor condemnèd English,
    Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
    Sit patiently and inly ruminate
    The morning's danger; and their gesture sad,
    1815Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,
    Presented them unto the gazing moon
    So many horrid ghosts. Oh, now, who will behold
    The royal captain of this ruined band
    Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
    1820Let him cry "Praise and glory on his head!"
    For forth he goes and visits all his host,
    Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
    And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
    Upon his royal face there is no note
    1825How dread an army hath enrounded him;
    Nor doth he dedicate one jot of color
    Unto the weary and all-watchèd night,
    But freshly looks and overbears attaint
    With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty,
    1830That every wretch, pining and pale before,
    Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
    A largess universal like the sun
    His liberal eye doth give to everyone,
    Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all
    1835Behold, as may unworthiness define,
    A little touch of Harry in the night.
    And so our scene must to the battle fly,
    Where -- oh, for pity! -- we shall much disgrace
    With four or five most vile and ragged foils
    1840Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,
    The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
    Minding true things by what their mock'ries be.
    Enter the King [and Gloucester, meeting Bedford].
    1845King Henry
    Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
    The greater therefore should our courage be.--
    Good morrow, brother Bedford. God almighty,
    There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
    Would men observingly distill it out.
    1850For our bad neighbor makes us early stirrers,
    Which is both healthful and good husbandry.
    Besides, they are our outward consciences
    And preachers to us all, admonishing
    That we should dress us fairly for our end.
    1855Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
    And make a moral of the devil himself.
    Enter Erpingham.
    Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham.
    A good soft pillow for that good white head
    1860Were better than a churlish turf of France.
    Not so, my liege. This lodging likes me better,
    Since I may say "Now lie I like a king."
    King Henry
    'Tis good for men to love their present pains.
    Upon example so, the spirit is eased,
    1865And when the mind is quickened, out of doubt
    The organs, though defunct and dead before,
    Break up their drowsy grave and newly move
    With casted slough, and fresh legerity.
    Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. -- Brothers both,
    1870Commend me to the princes in our camp.
    Do my good morrow to them, and anon
    Desire them all to my pavilion.
    We shall, my liege.
    Shall I attend your grace?
    1875King Henry
    No, my good knight,
    Go with my brothers to my lords of England.
    I and my bosom must debate awhile,
    And then I would no other company.
    The lord in heaven bless thee, noble 1880Harry.
    Exeunt [all but King Henry, who disguises himself in Erpingham's cloak].
    King Henry
    God-a-mercy, old heart; thou speak'st cheerfully.
    Enter Pistol.
    Che vous la?
    King Henry
    A friend.
    Discuss unto me: art thou officer, or art thou base, common, and popular?
    King Henry
    I am a gentleman of a company.
    Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
    King Henry
    Even so. What are you?
    As good a gentleman as the emperor.
    King Henry
    Then you are a better than the king.
    The king's a bawcock and a heart of gold, a lad of life, an imp of fame, of parents good, of fist most valiant. I kiss his dirty shoe, and from 1895heartstring I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?
    King Henry
    Harry le Roy.
    Leroy? A Cornish name; art thou of Cornish crew?
    King Henry
    No, I am a Welshman.
    Know'st thou Fluellen?
    1900King Henry
    Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate upon Saint Davy's day.
    King Henry
    Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he knock that about yours.
    Art thou his friend?
    King Henry
    And his kinsman too.
    The fico for thee then.
    King Henry
    I thank you. God be with you.
    My name is Pistol called.
    Exit [Pistol].
    1910King Henry
    It sorts well with your fierceness.
    Enter Fluellen and Gower [separately].
    Captain Fluellen.
    'So! In the name of Jesu Christ speak fewer! It 1915is the greatest admiration in the universal world when the true and aunchient prerogatiffs and laws of the wars is not kept. If you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle nor pibble-babble 1920in Pompey's camp. I warrant you, you shall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the sobriety of it, and the modesty of it, to be otherwise.
    Why, the enemy is loud; you hear him all 1925night.
    If the enemy is an ass and a fool and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass and a fool and a prating coxcomb, in your own conscience now?
    I will speak lower.
    I pray you and beseech you that you will.
    [Exeunt Gower and Fluellen.]
    King Henry
    Though it appear a little out of fashion,
    There is much care and valor in this Welshman.
    Enter three soldiers: John Bates, Alexander Court, 1935and Michael Williams.
    Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder?
    I think it be, but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.
    We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think we shall never see the end of it. -- Who goes there?
    King Henry
    A friend.
    Under what captain serve you?
    1945King Henry
    Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
    A good old commander and a most kind gentleman. I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?
    King Henry
    Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be washed off the next tide.
    He hath not told his thought to the king?
    King Henry
    No, nor it is not meet he should. For though I speak it to you, I think the king is but a man, as I am. The violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but 1955human conditions. His ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man, and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing. Therefore when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears out of doubt be of 1960the same relish as ours are. Yet in reason, no man should possess him with any appearance of fear, lest he by showing it should dishearten his army.
    He may show what outward courage he will, but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish 1965himself in Thames up to the neck. And so I would he were, and I by him, at all adventures, so we were quit here.
    King Henry
    By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the king: I think he would not wish himself anywhere but where he is.
    Then I would he were here alone. So should he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's lives saved.
    King Henry
    I dare say you love him not so ill to wish him here alone, howsoever you speak this to feel other men's minds. Methinks I could not die anywhere so 1975contented as in the king's company, his cause being just and his quarrel honorable.
    That's more than we know.
    Ay, or more than we should seek after. For we know enough if we know we are the king's subjects. 1980If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes the crime of it out of us.
    But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads chopped off in a battle 1985shall join together at the latter day, and cry all, "We died at such a place," some swearing, some crying for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I am afeared there are few die well that die 1990in a battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument? Now if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it, who to disobey were against all proportion of subjection.
    1995King Henry
    So if a son that is by his father sent about merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed upon his father that sent him. Or if a servant, under his master's command transporting a sum of 2000money, be assailed by robbers and die in many irreconciled iniquities, you may call the business of the master the author of the servant's damnation. But this is not so. The king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master 2005of his servant, for they purpose not their death when they purpose their services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrament of swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers. Some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of 2010premeditated and contrived murder; some of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of perjury; some, making the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage and robbery. Now if these men have defeated the law and 2015outrun native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God. War is his beadle; war is his vengeance. So that here men are punished for before-breach of the king's laws in now the king's quarrel. Where they feared the death, 2020they have borne life away; and where they would be safe, they perish. Then if they die unprovided, no more is the king guilty of their damnation than he was before guilty of those impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is the king's, but 2025every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience. And dying so, death is to him advantage, or not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was 2030gained. And in him that escapes, it were not sin to think that, making God so free an offer, he let him outlive that day to see his greatness and to teach others how they should prepare.
    'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon 2035his own head; the king is not to answer it.
    I do not desire he should answer for me, and yet I determine to fight lustily for him.
    King Henry
    I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed.
    Ay, he said so to make us fight cheerfully, but when our throats are cut he may be ransomed and we ne'er the wiser.
    King Henry
    If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.
    You pay him, then! That's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun that a poor and a private displeasure can do against a monarch. You may as well go about to turn the sun to ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word after! 2050Come, 'tis a foolish saying.
    King Henry
    Your reproof is something too round. I should be angry with you if the time were convenient.
    Let it be a quarrel between us if you live.
    2055King Henry
    I embrace it.
    How shall I know thee again?
    King Henry
    Give me any gage of thine and I will wear it in my bonnet. Then if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.
    Here's my glove. Give me another of thine.
    King Henry
    [They exchange gloves.]
    This will I also wear in my cap. If ever thou come to me and say, after tomorrow, "This is my glove," 2065by this hand I will take thee a box on the ear.
    King Henry
    If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.
    Thou darest as well be hanged.
    King Henry
    Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the king's company.
    Keep thy word. Fare thee well.
    Be friends, you English fools, be friends! We have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to reckon.
    [Exeunt] Soldiers.
    King Henry
    Indeed, the French may lay twenty French 2075crowns to one they will beat us, for they bear them on their shoulders. But it is no English treason to cut French crowns, and tomorrow the king himself will be a clipper. --
    Upon the king! "Let us our lives, our souls,
    2080Our debts, our careful wives, our children, and
    Our sins lay on the king." We must bear all.
    O hard condition, twin-born with greatness,
    Subject to the breath of every fool whose sense
    2085No more can feel but his own wringing.
    What infinite heart's-ease must kings neglect,
    That private men enjoy?
    And what have kings that privates have not too,
    Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
    2090And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
    What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
    Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
    What are thy rents? What are thy comings in?
    O ceremony, show me but thy worth.
    2095What? Is thy soul of adoration?
    Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
    Creating awe and fear in other men,
    Wherein thou art less happy being feared
    Than they in fearing?
    2100What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
    But poisoned flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
    And bid thy ceremony give thee cure.
    Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out
    With titles blown from adulation?
    2105Will it give place to flexure and low bending?
    Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
    Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream
    That play'st so subtly with a king's repose.
    I am a king that find thee, and I know
    2110'Tis not the balm, the scepter, and the ball,
    The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
    The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
    The farcèd title running 'fore the king,
    The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
    2115That beats upon the high shore of this world --
    No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
    Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
    Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave
    Who, with a body filled and vacant mind,
    2120Gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread;
    Never sees horrid night, the child of hell,
    But like a lackey, from the rise to set,
    Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
    Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn
    2125Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
    And follows so the ever-running year
    With profitable labor to his grave.
    And but for ceremony, such a wretch,
    Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
    2130Had the forehand and vantage of a king.
    The slave, a member of the country's peace,
    Enjoys it, but in gross brain little wots
    What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
    Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
    2135Enter Erpingham.
    My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
    Seek through your camp to find you.
    King Henry
    Good old knight,
    Collect them all together at my tent:
    I'll be before thee.
    I shall do't, my lord.
    King Henry
    [Kneeling] O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts.
    Possess them not with fear. Take from them now
    The sense of reck'ning, ere th'opposèd numbers
    Pluck their hearts from them. Not today, O Lord,
    2145Oh, not today -- think not upon the fault
    My father made in compassing the crown.
    I Richard's body have interrèd new,
    And on it have bestowed more contrite tears
    Than from it issued forcèd drops of blood.
    2150Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay
    Who twice a day their withered hands hold up
    Toward heaven to pardon blood, and I have built
    Two chantries where the sad and solemn priests
    Sing still 2155for Richard's soul. More will I do,
    Though all that I can do is nothing worth,
    Since that my penitence comes after all,
    Imploring pardon.
    Enter Gloucester.
    My liege.
    King Henry
    My brother Gloucester's voice? Ay,
    I know thy errand. I will go with thee.
    The day, my friend, and all things stay for me.
    2165Enter the Dauphin, Orléans, Rambures, and Beaumont.
    The sun doth gild our armor. Up, my lords!
    Montez à cheval: my horse, varlet lackey, 2170ha!
    Oh, brave spirit!
    Via les eaux et terres.
    Rien plus? L'air et feu?
    Cieux, Cousin Orléans.
    Enter Constable.
    2175Now my lord constable?
    Hark how our steeds for present service neigh.
    Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
    That their hot blood may spin in English eyes
    2180And d'out them with superfluous courage. Ha!
    What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?
    How shall we then behold their natural tears?
    Enter Messenger.
    The English are embattled, you French 2185peers.
    To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse!
    Do but behold yon poor and starvèd band
    And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
    Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
    2190There is not work enough for all our hands,
    Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
    To give each naked curtle-ax a stain
    That our French gallants shall today draw out
    And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on them,
    2195The vapor of our valor will o'erturn them.
    'Tis positive against all exceptions, lords,
    That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,
    Who in unnecessary action swarm
    About our squares of battle, were enough
    2200To purge this field of such a hilding foe
    Though we upon this mountain's basis by
    Took stand for idle speculation,
    But that our honors must not. What's to say?
    A very little little let us do
    2205And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
    The tucket sonance and the note to mount,
    For our approach shall so much dare the field
    That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
    Enter Grandpré.
    Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
    Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
    Ill-favoredly become the morning field.
    Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose
    And our air shakes them passing scornfully.
    2215Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggared host
    And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.
    The horsemen sit like fixèd candlesticks
    With torch-staves in their hand, and their poor jades
    Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
    2220The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes,
    And in their pale dull mouths the gemelled bit
    Lies foul with chawed grass, still and motionless;
    And their executors, the knavish crows,
    Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.
    2225Description cannot suit itself in words
    To demonstrate the life of such a battle
    In life so lifeless as it shows itself.
    They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.
    Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits
    And give their fasting horses provender,
    And after fight with them?
    I stay but for my guard. On to the field;
    I will the banner from a trumpet take
    2235And use it for my haste. Come, come away.
    The sun is high and we outwear the day.
    Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all his host, Salisbury, and Westmorland.
    Where is the king?
    The king himself is rode to view their battle.
    Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.
    There's five to one, besides they all are fresh.
    God's arm strike with us! 'Tis a fearful odds.
    God b'wi'you, princes all. I'll to my charge.
    If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
    Then joyfully, my noble lord of Bedford,
    2250My dear lord Gloucester, and my good lord Exeter,
    And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu.
    Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee.
    [To Salisbury] Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today.
    And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
    For thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
    [Exit Salisbury.]
    He is as full of valor as of kindness,
    Princely in both.
    Enter the King.
    Oh, that we now had here
    2260But one ten thousand of those men in England
    That do no work today.
    King Henry
    What's he that wishes so?
    My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin,
    If we are marked to die, we are enough
    2265To do our country loss; and if to live,
    The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
    God's will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
    By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
    Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost.
    2270It earns me not if men my garments wear;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
    But if it be a sin to covet honor,
    I am the most offending soul alive.
    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
    2275God's peace, I would not lose so great an honor
    As one man more methinks would share from me
    For the best hope I have. Oh, do not wish one more.
    Rather proclaim it, Westmorland, through my host
    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
    2280Let him depart. His passport shall be made
    And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
    We would not die in that man's company
    That fears his fellowship to die with us.
    This day is called the feast of Crispian.
    2285He that outlives this day and comes safe home
    Will stand a tiptoe when this day is named
    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
    He that shall see this day and live old age
    Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors
    2290And say, "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian."
    Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
    But he'll remember, with advantages,
    What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
    2295Familiar in his mouth as household words --
    Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester --
    Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
    This story shall the good man teach his son,
    2300And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be rememberèd,
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
    For he today that sheds his blood with me
    2305Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition.
    And gentlemen in England now abed,
    Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    2310That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
    Enter Salisbury.
    My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed.
    The French are bravely in their battles set
    And will with all expedience charge on us.
    2315King Henry
    All things are ready if our minds be so.
    Perish the man whose mind is backward now.
    King Henry
    Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?
    God's will, my liege, would you and I alone
    2320Without more help could fight this royal battle!
    King Henry
    Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men,
    Which likes me better than to wish us one. --
    You know your places. God be with you all.
    Tucket. Enter Montjoy.
    Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
    If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound
    Before thy most assurèd overthrow,
    For certainly thou art so near the gulf
    Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
    2330The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
    Thy followers of repentance, that their souls
    May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
    From off these fields where, wretches, their poor bodies
    Must lie and fester.
    2335King Henry
    Who hath sent thee now?
    The Constable of France.
    King Henry
    I pray thee bear my former answer back:
    Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
    Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?
    2340The man that once did sell the lion's skin
    While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
    A many of our bodies shall no doubt
    Find native graves, upon the which I trust
    Shall witness live in brass of this day's work.
    2345And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
    Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
    They shall be famed, for there the sun shall greet them
    And draw their honors reeking up to heaven,
    Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
    2350The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
    Mark then abounding valor in our English,
    That being dead, like to the bullets crazing,
    Break out into a second course of mischief,
    Killing in relapse of mortality.
    2355Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
    We are but warriors for the working day.
    Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched
    With rainy marching in the painful field.
    There's not a piece of feather in our host --
    2360Good argument, I hope, we will not fly --
    And time hath worn us into slovenry.
    But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim,
    And my poor soldiers tell me yet ere night
    They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
    2365The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
    And turn them out of service. If they do this,
    As, if God please, they shall, my ransom then
    Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labor.
    2370Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.
    They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints,
    Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
    Shall yield them little. Tell the constable.
    I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well.
    2375Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
    King Henry
    I fear thou wilt once more come for a ransom.
    Enter York.
    [Kneeling] My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
    2380The leading of the vanguard.
    King Henry
    Take it, brave York. -- Now soldiers, march away,
    And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day.
    Alarum. Excursions.
    2385Enter Pistol, French Soldier, [and] Boy.
    Yield, cur!
    French Soldier
    Je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bon qualitĂ©.
    Qualtity? "Calinny custure me!" Art thou a 2390gentleman? What is thy name? Discuss.
    French Soldier
    O Seigneur Dieu!
    O Signieur Dew should be a gentleman. Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark: O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox, except, O Signieur, 2395thou do give to me egregious ransom.
    French Soldier
    Oh, prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitié de moi!
    Moy shall not serve. I will have forty moys, for I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat in drops of crimson blood.
    2400French Soldier
    Est-il impossible d'Ă©chapper la force de ton bras?
    Brass, cur? Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat, offer'st me brass?
    French Soldier
    Oh, pardonnez-moi!
    Say'st thou me so? Is that a ton of moys? 2405-- Come hither, boy. Ask me this slave in French what is his name.
    Ă©coutez: comment êtes-vous appellĂ©?
    French Soldier
    Monsieur le Fer.
    He says his name is Master Fer.
    Master Fer. I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him. Discuss the same in French unto him.
    I do not know the French for fer and ferret and firk.
    Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.
    2415French Soldier
    [To Boy] Que dit-il, monsieur?
    Il me commande à vous dire que vous faites vous prêt, car ce soldat ici est disposĂ© tout à cette heure de couper votre gorge.
    Owi, cuppe-la gorge, permafoy, peasant, unless 2420thou give me crowns. Brave crowns, or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.
    French Soldier
    Oh, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me pardonner! Je suis le gentilhomme de bonne maison. Gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cent Ă©cus.
    What are his words?
    He prays you to save his life. He is a gentleman of a good house, and for his ransom he will give you two hundred crowns.
    Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the crowns 2430will take.
    French Soldier
    [To Boy] Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
    Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier, nĂ©anmoins, pour les Ă©cus que vous l'avez promis, il est content à vous donner la libertĂ©, le franchisement.
    2435French Soldier
    [Kneeling to Pistol] Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciements, et je m'estime heureux que je suis tombĂ© entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant et très distinguĂ© seigneur d'Angleterre.
    Expound unto me, boy.
    He gives you upon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous and thrice-worthy seigneur of England.
    As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. 2445Follow me.
    Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.
    [Exeunt Pistol and French Soldier]
    I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart, but the saying is true, "The empty vessel makes the greatest sound." Bardolph and Nym had ten times more 2450valor than this roaring devil i'th'old play, that everyone may pare his nails with a wooden dagger, and they are both hanged; and so would this be if he durst steal anything adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys with the luggage of our camp. The French might 2455have a good prey of us if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boys.
    Enter Constable, Orléans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and Rambures.
    O diable!
    O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
    Mort Dieu! Ma vie! All is confounded, all.
    Reproach and everlasting shame sits mocking in our plumes.
    A short alarum
    O méchante Fortune! Do not run away.
    Why, all our ranks are broke.
    Oh, perdurable shame. Let's stab ourselves.
    Be these the wretches that we played at dice for?
    Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
    Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame.
    2470Let us die. In once more, back again,
    And he that will not follow Bourbon now
    Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand
    Like a base pander, hold the chamber door
    Whilst by a slave no gentler than my dog
    2475His fairest daughter is contaminated.
    Disorder that hath spoiled us, friend us now.
    Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
    We are enough yet living in the field
    To smother up the English in our throngs,
    2480If any order might be thought upon.
    The devil take order now. I'll to the throng;
    Let life be short, else shame will be too long.
    Alarum. Enter the King and his train, with prisoners.
    2485King Henry
    Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen,
    But all's not done. Yet keep the French the field.
    [Enter Exeter.]
    The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.
    King Henry
    Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour
    I saw him down, thrice up again and fighting.
    2490From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
    In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
    Larding the plain. And by his bloody side,
    Yoke-fellow to his honor-owing wounds,
    The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
    2495Suffolk first died, and York, all haggled over,
    Comes to him where in gore he lay insteeped,
    And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
    That bloodily did yawn upon his face.
    He cries aloud, "Tarry, my cousin Suffolk.
    2500My soul shall thine keep company to heaven.
    Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
    As in this glorious and well-foughten field
    We kept together in our chivalry."
    Upon these words I came and cheered him up.
    2505He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,
    And with a feeble grip says, "Dear my lord,
    Commend my service to my sovereign."
    So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
    He threw his wounded arm, and kissed his lips,
    2510And so espoused to death, with blood he sealed
    A testament of noble-ending love.
    The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
    Those waters from me which I would have stopped,
    But I had not so much of man in me,
    2515And all my mother came into mine eyes
    And gave me up to tears.
    King Henry
    I blame you not,
    For hearing this I must perforce compound
    With mixtful eyes, or they will issue too.
    2520But hark, what new alarum is this same?
    The French have reinforced their scattered men.
    Then every soldier kill his prisoners.
    Give the word through.
    2525Enter Fluellen and Gower.
    Kill the poys and the luggage! 'Tis expressly against the law of arms. 'Tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offer't. In your conscience now, is it not?
    'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive, and the cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha' done this slaughter. Besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the king's tent, wherefore the king most worthily hath caused every soldier to cut his 2535prisoner's throat. Oh, 'tis a gallant king.
    Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What call you the town's name where Alexander the Pig was born?
    Alexander the Great.
    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, save the phrase is a little variations.
    I think Alexander the Great was born in 2545Macedon. His father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.
    I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of the 'orld, I warrant you sall find, in the comparisons 2550between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river. But 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers 2555is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and 2560his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his best friend Cleitus.
    Our king is not like him in that. He never killed 2565any of his friends.
    It is not well done, mark 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 killed his friend Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so 2570also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits, and his good judgments, turned away the fat knight with the great belly-doublet. He was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks. I have forgot his name.
    Sir John Falstaff.
    That is he. I'll tell you, there is good men porn at Monmouth.
    Here comes his majesty.
    Alarum. Enter King Harry[, Exeter, Warwick, Gloucester, an English herald, and others, with] Bourbon [and other] prisoners. Flourish.
    2580King Henry
    I was not angry since I came to France
    Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald.
    Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill.
    If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
    Or void the field. They do offend our sight.
    2585If they'll do neither, we will come to them
    And make them skirr away as swift as stones
    Enforcèd from the old Assyrian slings.
    Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,
    And not a man of them that we shall take
    2590Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
    Enter Montjoy.
    Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.
    His eyes are humbler than they used to be.
    King Henry
    How now, what means this, herald? Know'st 2595thou not
    That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?
    Com'st thou again for ransom?
    No, great king.
    I come to thee for charitable license,
    2600That we may wander o'er this bloody field
    To book our dead and then to bury them,
    To sort our nobles from our common men.
    For many of our princes -- woe the while --
    Lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood;
    2605So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
    In blood of princes, and the wounded steeds
    Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage
    Jerk out their armèd heels at their dead masters,
    Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
    2610To view the field in safety and dispose
    Of their dead bodies.
    King Henry
    I tell thee truly, herald,
    I know not if the day be ours or no,
    For yet a many of your horsemen peer
    2615And gallop o'er the field.
    The day is yours.
    King Henry
    Praisèd be God and not our strength for it.
    What is this castle called that stands hard by?
    They call it Agincourt.
    2620King Henry
    Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
    Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
    Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your majesty, and your great uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought 2625a most prave pattle here in France.
    King Henry
    They did, Fluellen.
    Your majesty says very true. If your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen did good service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their 2630Monmouth caps, which your majesty know to this hour is an honorable badge of the service. And I do believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.
    King Henry
    I wear it for a memorable honor,
    2635For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
    All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that. God pless it, and preserve it, as long as it pleases his grace, and his majesty too.
    2640King Henry
    Thanks, good my countryman.
    By Jeshu, I am your majesty's countryman. I care not who know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld. I need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be God, so long as your majesty is an honest man.
    2645King Henry
    God keep me so. --
    Enter Williams.
    Our heralds go with him.
    Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
    On both our parts. --
    [Exeunt Montjoy, English heralds, and Gower.]
    Call yonder fellow hither.
    [To Williams] Soldier, you must come to the king.
    King Henry
    Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?
    An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive.
    2655King Henry
    An Englishman?
    An't please your majesty, a rascal that swaggered with me last night, who, if alive and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box o'th'ear; or if I can see my glove in his cap, which he 2660swore as he was a soldier he would wear, if alive, I will strike it out soundly.
    King Henry
    What think you, Captain Fluellen? Is it fit this soldier keep his oath?
    He is a craven and a villain else, an't please 2665your majesty, in my conscience.
    King Henry
    It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree.
    Though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look 2670your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath. If he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a jack-sauce as ever his black shoe trod upon God's ground and his earth, in my conscience, law.
    King Henry
    Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st 2675the fellow.
    So I will, my liege, as I live.
    King Henry
    Who serv'st thou under?
    Under Captain Gower, my liege.
    Gower is a good captain, and is good 2680knowledge and literatured in the wars.
    King Henry
    Call him hither to me, soldier.
    I will, my liege.
    King Henry
    Here, Fluellen, wear thou this favor for me and stick it in thy cap. [Gives him Williams's glove] When Alençon and myself were 2685down together I plucked this glove from his helm. If any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alençon and an enemy to our person. If thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou dost me love.
    Your grace does me as great honors as can be 2690desired in the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that has but two legs that shall find himself aggrief'd at this glove. That is all, but I would fain see it once an't please God of his grace that I might see.
    King Henry
    Know'st thou Gower?
    He is my dear friend, an't please you.
    King Henry
    Pray thee, go seek him and bring him to my tent.
    I will fetch him.
    King Henry
    My lord of Warwick and my brother Gloucester,
    2700Follow Fluellen closely at the heels.
    The glove which I have given him for a favor
    May haply purchase him a box o'th'ear.
    It is the soldier's. I by bargain should
    Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick.
    2705If that the soldier strike him -- as I judge
    By his blunt bearing he will keep his word --
    Some sudden mischief may arise of it.
    For I do know Fluellen valiant
    And touched with choler, hot as gunpowder,
    2710And quickly will return an injury.
    Follow, and see there be no harm between them. --
    Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.
    Enter Gower and Williams.
    I warrant it is to knight you, captain.
    2715Enter Fluellen.
    God's will, and his pleasure, captain, I beseech you now come apace to the king. There is more good toward you, peradventure, than is in your knowledge to dream of.
    [To Fluellen] Sir, know you this glove?
    Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove.
    I know this, and thus I challenge it.
    Strikes him.
    'Sblood, an arrant traitor as any's in the 2725universal world, or in France, or in England!
    How now, sir? [To Williams] You villain!
    Do you think I'll be forsworn?
    Stand away, Captain Gower. I will give treason his payment into plows, I warrant you.
    I am no traitor.
    That's a lie in thy throat. [To Gower] I charge you in his majesty's name, apprehend him. He's a friend of the Duke Alençon's.
    Enter Warwick and Gloucester.
    How now, how now, what's the matter?
    My lord of Warwick, here is, praised be God for it, a most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a summer's day. Here is his majesty.
    Enter King and Exeter.
    2740King Henry
    How now, what's the matter?
    My liege, here is a villain and a traitor that, look your grace, has struck the glove which your majesty is take out of the helmet of Alençon.
    My liege, this was my glove -- here is the fellow of it -- and he that I gave it to in change promised to wear it in his cap. I promised to strike him if he did. I met this man with my glove in his cap and I have been as good as my word.
    Your majesty hear now, saving your majesty's manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lousy knave it is. I hope your majesty is pear me testimony and witness, and will avouchment, that this is the glove of Alençon that your majesty is give me, in your 2755conscience now.
    King Henry
    Give me thy glove, soldier. Look, here is the fellow of it.
    'Twas I indeed thou promisèd'st to strike,
    And thou hast given me most bitter terms.
    An't please your majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the world.
    King Henry
    How canst thou make me satisfaction?
    All offences, my lord, come from the heart. Never came any from mine that might offend your 2765majesty.
    King Henry
    It was ourself thou didst abuse.
    Your majesty came not like yourself. You appeared to me but as a common man -- witness the night, your garments, your lowliness -- and what 2770your highness suffered under that shape, I beseech you take it for your own fault and not mine, for had you been as I took you for, I made no offense. Therefore I beseech your highness pardon me.
    King Henry
    Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns
    2775And give it to this fellow. [To Williams] Keep it, fellow,
    And wear it for an honor in thy cap
    Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns.
    [To Fluellen] And captain, you must needs be friends with him.
    By this day and this light, the fellow has 2780mettle enough in his belly. -- Hold, there is twelvepence for you, and I pray you to serve God and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and I warrant you it is the better for you.
    I will none of your money.
    It is with a good will. I can tell you it will serve you to mend your shoes. Come, wherefore should you be so pashful? Your shoes is not so good. 'Tis a good silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.
    Enter Herald.
    2790King Henry
    Now, herald, are the dead numbered?
    [Presenting a paper] Here is the number of the slaughtered French.
    King Henry
    [To Exeter] What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
    Charles, Duke of Orléans, nephew to the king;
    John, Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Boucicaut.
    Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
    Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
    King Henry
    This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
    2800That in the field lie slain. Of princes in this number
    And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
    One hundred twenty-six. Added to these,
    Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
    Eight thousand and four hundred, of the which
    2805Five hundred were but yesterday dubbed knights.
    So that in these ten thousand they have lost
    There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries.
    The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires,
    And gentlemen of blood and quality.
    2810The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
    Charles d'Alberet, High Constable of France,
    Jacques of Châtillon, Admiral of France,
    The Master of the Crossbows, Lord Rambures,
    Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dauphin;
    2815Jean Duke of Alençon, Antony Duke of Brabant,
    The brother to the Duke of Burgundy,
    And Ă©douard Duke of Bar. Of lusty earls,
    Grandpré and Roucy, Fauquembergues and Foix,
    Beaumont and Marle, Vaudémont and Lestrelles.
    2820Here was a royal fellowship of death. --
    Where is the number of our English dead?
    [Takes a paper]
    Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
    Sir Richard Kyghley, Davey Gam, Esquire.
    None else of name, and of all other men
    2825But five-and-twenty. O God, thy arm was here,
    And not to us but to thy arm alone
    Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
    But in plain shock and even play of battle,
    2830Was ever known so great and little loss
    On one part and on th'other? Take it, God,
    For it is none but thine.
    'Tis wonderful.
    King Henry
    Come, go we in procession to the village,
    2835And be it death proclaimèd through our host
    To boast of this, or take that praise from God
    Which is his only.
    Is it not lawful, an't please your majesty, to tell how many is killed?
    2840King Henry
    Yes, captain, but with this acknowledgement:
    That God fought for us.
    Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.
    King Henry
    Do we all holy rites.
    Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum,
    2845The dead with charity enclosed in clay,
    And then to Calais, and to England then,
    Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men.
    2850Enter Chorus.
    Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story
    That I may prompt them; and of such as have,
    I humbly pray them to admit th'excuse
    Of time, of numbers, and due course of things
    2855Which cannot in their huge and proper life
    Be here presented. Now we bear the king
    Toward Calais; grant him there. There seen,
    Heave him away upon your wingèd thoughts
    Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
    2860Pales in the flood with men, wives, and boys,
    Whose shouts and claps outvoice the deep-mouthed sea,
    Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king,
    Seems to prepare his way. So let him land,
    And solemnly see him set on to London.
    2865So swift a pace hath thought that even now
    You may imagine him upon Blackheath,
    Where that his lords desire him to have borne
    His bruisèd helmet and his bended sword
    Before him through the city. He forbids it,
    2870Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride,
    Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent
    Quite from himself to God. But now behold
    In the quick forge and working-house of thought
    How London doth pour out her citizens.
    2875The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
    Like to the senators of th'antique Rome
    With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
    Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring Caesar in --
    As, by a lower but by loving likelihood,
    2880Were now the general of our gracious empress
    (As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
    Bringing rebellion broachèd on his sword,
    How many would the peaceful city quit
    To welcome him? Much more, and much more cause,
    2885Did they this Harry. Now in London place him,
    As yet the lamentation of the French
    Invites the king of England's stay at home.
    The emperor's coming in behalf of France
    To order peace between them, we omit:
    2890All the occurrences, whatever chanced,
    Till Harry's back return again to France.
    There must we bring him, and myself have played
    The interim by remembering you 'tis past.
    Then brook abridgement, and your eyes advance,
    2895After your thoughts, straight back again to France.
    Enter Fluellen and Gower.
    Nay, that's right. But why wear you your leek today? Saint Davy's day is past.
    There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things. I will tell you ass my friend, Captain Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave Pistol, which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no 2905merits, he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek. It was in a place where I could not breed no contention with him, but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little 2910piece of my desires.
    Enter Pistol.
    Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
    'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his 2915turkey-cocks. -- God pless you, Aunchient Pistol, you scurvy lousy knave, God pless you.
    Ha, art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base Trojan, to have me fold up Parca's fatal web? Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
    I peseech you heartily, scurvy lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek. Because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections and your appetites and your disgestions does not agree with it, I would desire you 2925to eat it.
    Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
    There is one goat for you. Strikes him [with a cudgel]
    Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?
    Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
    You say very true, scald knave, when God's will is. I will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals. Come, there is sauce for it. [Strikes him] You called me yesterday mountain squire, but I will make you today a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to. If 2935you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
    Enough, captain. You have astonished him.
    I say I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days. -- Bite, I pray you. It is good for your green wound and your ploody 2940coxcomb.
    Must I bite?
    Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question, too, and ambiguities.
    By this leek, I will most horribly revenge -- [Fluellen threatens him.] I 2945eat and eat, I swear.
    Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more sauce to your leek? There is not enough leek to swear by.
    Quiet thy cudgel! Thou dost see I eat.
    Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 2950pray you throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at 'em, that is all.
    Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat to 2955heal your pate.
    [Offers money]
    Me a groat?
    Yes, verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I have another leek in my pocket which you shall eat.
    I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
    If I owe you anything, I will pay you in cudgels. You shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God b'wi'you, and keep you, and heal your pate.
    All hell shall stir for this.
    Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honorable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valor, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling 2970at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought because he could not speak English in the native garb he could not therefore handle an English cudgel. You find it otherwise, and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye well.
    Doth fortune play the hussy with me now? News have I that my Doll is dead i'th'Spital of a malady of France, and there my rendezvous is quite cut off. Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs honor is cudgeled. Well, bawd I'll turn, and something lean to 2980cutpurse of quick hand. To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.
    And patches will I get unto these cudgeled scars,
    And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.
    Enter at one door King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwick, 2985[Westmorland,] and other lords [(Clarence, Gloucester, and Huntingdon)]. At another, Queen Isabeau, the [French] King, [Catherine, Alice,] the Duke of Burgundy, and other French.
    King Henry
    Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met.
    Unto our brother France and to our sister,
    2990Health and fair time of day. Joy and good wishes
    To our most fair and princely cousin Catherine.
    And as a branch and member of this royalty,
    By whom this great assembly is contrived,
    We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy.
    2995And princes French, and peers, health to you all.
    French King
    Right joyous are we to behold your face,
    Most worthy brother England; fairly met.
    So are you, princes English, every one.
    Queen Isabeau
    So happy be the issue, brother England,
    3000Of this good day and of this gracious meeting
    As we are now glad to behold your eyes --
    Your eyes which hitherto have borne in them
    Against the French that met them in their bent
    The fatal balls of murdering basilisks.
    3005The venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
    Have lost their quality, and that this day
    Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
    King Henry
    To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
    Queen Isabeau
    You English princes all, I do salute you.
    My duty to you both, on equal love.
    Great kings of France and England, that I have labored
    With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavors,
    To bring your most imperial majesties
    Unto this bar and royal interview,
    3015Your mightiness on both parts best can witness.
    Since, then, my office hath so far prevailed
    That face to face and royal eye to eye
    You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me
    If I demand before this royal view
    3020What rub or what impediment there is
    Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace,
    Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births,
    Should not in this best garden of the world,
    Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?
    3025Alas, she hath from France too long been chased,
    And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,
    Corrupting in it own fertility.
    Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,
    Unprunèd, dies. Her hedges even-pleached,
    3030Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,
    Put forth disordered twigs. Her fallow leas
    The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
    Doth root upon, while that the colter rusts
    That should deracinate such savagery.
    3035The even mead that erst brought sweetly forth
    The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,
    Wanting the scythe, withal uncorrected, rank,
    Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems
    But hateful docks, rough thistles, kexes, burrs,
    3040Losing both beauty and utility,
    And all our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
    Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.
    Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children
    Have lost, or do not learn for want of time
    3045The sciences that should become our country,
    But grow like savages -- as soldiers will
    That nothing do but meditate on blood --
    To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire,
    And everything that seems unnatural.
    3050Which to reduce into our former favor,
    You are assembled, and my speech entreats
    That I may know the let why gentle peace
    Should not expel these inconveniences
    And bless us with her former qualities.
    3055King Henry
    If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace
    Whose want gives growth to th'imperfections
    Which you have cited, you must buy that peace
    With full accord to all our just demands,
    Whose tenors and particular effects
    3060You have enscheduled briefly in your hands.
    The king hath heard them, to the which as yet
    There is no answer made.
    King Henry
    Well then, the peace
    Which you before so urged lies in his answer.
    3065French King
    I have but with a curselary eye
    O'erglanced the articles. Pleaseth your grace
    To appoint some of your council presently
    To sit with us once more, with better heed
    To re-survey them, we will suddenly
    3070Pass our accept and peremptory answer.
    King Henry
    Brother, we shall. -- Go, uncle Exeter,
    And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester,
    Warwick, and Huntingdon, go with the king,
    And take with you free power to ratify,
    3075Augment, or alter as your wisdoms best
    Shall see advantageable for our dignity,
    Anything in or out of our demands,
    And we'll consign thereto. [To Queen Isabeau] Will you, fair sister,
    Go with the princes, or stay here with us?
    3080Queen Isabeau
    Our gracious brother, I will go with them.
    Haply a woman's voice may do some good
    When articles too nicely urged be stood on.
    King Henry
    Yet leave our cousin Catherine here with us.
    She is our capital demand, comprised
    3085Within the forerank of our articles.
    Queen Isabeau
    She hath good leave.
    Exeunt all but King Henry, Catherine [and Alice].
    King Henry
    Fair Catherine, and most fair,
    Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms
    3090Such as will enter at a lady's ear
    And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
    Your majesty shall mock at me. I cannot speak your England.
    King Henry
    Oh, fair Catherine, if you will love me soundly 3095with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
    Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell wat is "like me."
    King Henry
    An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an 3100angel.
    [To Alice] Que dit-il? Que je suis semblable à les anges?
    Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grâce, ainsi dit-il.
    King Henry
    I said so, dear Catherine, and I must not blush to affirm it.
    O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperies!
    King Henry
    [To Alice] What says she, fair one? That the tongues of men are full of deceits?
    Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of 3110deceits. Dat is de princess.
    King Henry
    The princess is the better Englishwoman. I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding. I am glad thou canst speak no better English, for if thou couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king that 3115thou wouldst think I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say "I love you." Then if you urge me farther than to say, "Do you in faith?", I wear out my suit. Give me your answer, i'faith do, and so clap hands and a 3120bargain. How say you, lady?
    Sauf votre honneur, me understand well.
    King Henry
    Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me. For the one I have neither words nor measure, and for the other I 3125have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a lady at leapfrog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armor on my back -- under the correction of bragging be it spoken -- I should quickly leap into a wife. Or if I might buffet for my 3130love or bound my horse for her favors, I could lay on like a butcher and sit like a jackanapes, never off. But before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation, only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, 3135nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning, that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier. If thou canst love me for this, 3140take me. If not, to say to thee that I shall die is true, but for thy love, by the Lord, no. Yet I love thee too. And while thou liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy, for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places. For 3145these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favors, they do always reason themselves out again. What! A speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a ballad, a good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curled pate will 3150grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon, or rather the sun and not the moon, for it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me. 3155An take me, take a soldier. Take a soldier, take a king. And what say'st thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
    Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?
    3160King Henry
    No, it is not possible you should love the enemy of France, Kate, but in loving me you should love the friend of France, for I love France so well that I will not part with a village of it; I will have it all mine. And Kate, when France is mine and I am yours, then yours 3165is France, and you are mine.
    I cannot tell wat is dat.
    King Henry
    No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. 3170Je quand sur le possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi -- let me see, what then? Saint Denis be my speed! -- donc vôtre est France, et vous êtes mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom as to speak so much more French. I shall never move thee in 3175French unless it be to laugh at me.
    Sauf votre honneur, le français que vous parlez, il est meilleur que l'anglais lequel je parle.
    King Henry
    No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking of my tongue and I thine, most truly falsely, must 3180needs be granted to be much at one. But Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love me?
    I cannot tell.
    King Henry
    Can any of your neighbors tell, Kate? I'll 3185ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me, and at night when you come into your closet you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those parts in me that you love with your heart. But good Kate, mock me mercifully, the rather, 3190gentle princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder. Shall not thou and I, between Saint Denis and Saint 3195George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard? Shall we not? What say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce?
    I do not know dat.
    3200King Henry
    No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise. Do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavor for your French part of such a boy, and for my English moiety, take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Catherine du monde, mon très cher et divin 3205dĂ©esse?
    Your majesty 'ave fausse French enough to deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France.
    King Henry
    Now fie upon my false French! By mine honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate; by which honor I dare 3210not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. Now beshrew my father's ambition! He was thinking of civil wars when he got me, therefore was I created with a 3215stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo ladies I fright them. But in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear. My comfort is that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at 3220the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better. And therefore tell me, most fair Catherine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes. Avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress. Take me by the hand and say, "Harry of 3225England, I am thine." Which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal but I will tell thee aloud "England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine," who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt 3230find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music, for thy voice is music and thy English broken. Therefore, queen of all, Catherine, break thy mind to me in broken English: wilt thou have me?
    Dat is as it shall please de roi mon père.
    King Henry
    Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.
    Den it sall also content me.
    King Henry
    Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my 3240queen.
    Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez! Ma foi, je ne veux point que vous abaissez votre grandeur en baisant le main d'une de votre seigneurie indigne serviteure. Excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon très puissant seigneur.
    3245King Henry
    Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
    Les dames et demoiselles, pour être baisĂ©es devant leurs noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France.
    King Henry
    Madam my interpreter, what says she?
    Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of 3250France -- I cannot tell wat is baiser en Anglish.
    King Henry
    To kiss.
    Your majesty entend bettre que moi.
    King Henry
    It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?
    Oui, vraiment.
    King Henry
    Oh, Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion. We are the makers of manners, Kate, and the liberty that follows 3260our places stops the mouth of all find-faults, as I will do yours for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss, therefore patiently, and yielding -- [Kisses her] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate. There is more eloquence in a sugar touch of 3265them than in the tongues of the French council, and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
    Enter the French power [(French King, Queen Isabeau, Burgundy),] and the English 3270lords[, including Exeter and Westmorland].
    God save your majesty. My royal cousin, teach you our princess English?
    King Henry
    I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her, and that is good English.
    Is she not apt?
    King Henry
    Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not smooth, so that having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in her that he will appear in his true 3280likeness.
    Pardon the frankness of my mirth if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle. If conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you 3285blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.
    3290King Henry
    Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.
    They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.
    King Henry
    Then good my lord, teach your cousin to 3295consent winking.
    I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning. For maids well summered and warm kept are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes, and then 3300they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.
    King Henry
    This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer, and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end, and she must be blind too.
    As love is, my lord, before it loves.
    King Henry
    It is so. And you may, some of you, thank love for my blindness, who cannot see many a fair French city for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
    3310French King
    Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid, for they are all girdled with maiden walls that no war hath entered.
    King Henry
    Shall Kate be my wife?
    3315French King
    So please you.
    King Henry
    I am content, so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her. So the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show me the way to my will.
    3320French King
    We have consented to all terms of reason.
    King Henry
    Is't so, my lords of England?
    The king hath granted every article:
    His daughter first, and in sequel, all,
    3325According to their firm proposèd natures.
    Only he hath not yet subscribèd this:
    where your majesty demands that the king of France, having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form and with this 3330addition, in French: Notre très cher fils Henri, Roi d'Angleterre, hĂ©ritier de France; and thus in Latin: Praecarissimus filius noster Henricus, Rex Angliae et Haeres Franciae.
    French King
    Nor this I have not, brother, so denied
    But your request shall make me let it pass.
    3335King Henry
    I pray you then in love and dear alliance,
    Let that one article rank with the rest,
    And thereupon give me your daughter.
    French King
    Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
    Issue to me, that the contending kingdoms
    3340Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
    With envy of each other's happiness,
    May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction
    Plant neighborhood and Christian-like accord
    In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
    3345His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
    King Henry
    Now welcome, Kate, and bear me witness all
    That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
    3350Queen Isabeau
    God, the best maker of all marriages,
    Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one.
    As man and wife, being two, are one in love,
    So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal
    That never may ill office or fell jealousy,
    3355Which troubles oft the bed of blessèd marriage,
    Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms
    To make divorce of their incorporate league,
    That English may as French, French Englishmen,
    Receive each other. God speak this amen.
    King Henry
    Prepare we for our marriage; on which day,
    My lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath,
    And all the peers', for surety of our leagues.
    Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me,
    3365And may our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be.
    Sennet. Exeunt.
    Enter Chorus.
    Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
    Our bending author hath pursued the story,
    3370In little room confining mighty men,
    Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
    Small time, but in that small most greatly lived
    This star of England. Fortune made his sword,
    By which the world's best garden he achieved,
    3375And of it left his son imperial lord.
    Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crowned 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,
    3380Which oft our stage hath shown; and for their sake,
    In your fair minds let this acceptance take.