The Life of King Henry the Fifth

 

By

 

William Shakespeare

 


CONTENTS:

 

ACT I 3

PROLOGUE. 3

SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. 4

SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. 8

ACT II 18

PROLOGUE. 18

SCENE I. London. A street. 20

SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. 26

SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. 33

SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. 36

ACT III 41

PROLOGUE. 41

SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. 43

SCENE II. The same. 44

SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. 50

SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. 52

SCENE V. The same. 56

SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. 59

SCENE VII. The French camp, near Agincourt: 66

ACT IV.. 75

PROLOGUE. 75

SCENE I. The English camp at Agincourt. 77

SCENE II. The French camp. 90

SCENE III. The English camp. 93

SCENE IV. The field of battle. 98

SCENE V. Another part of the field. 102

SCENE VI. Another part of the field. 104

SCENE VII. Another part of the field. 106

SCENE VIII. Before KING HENRY'S pavilion. 114

ACT V.. 120

PROLOGUE. 120

SCENE I. France. The English camp. 122

SCENE II. France. A royal palace. 126

 


ACT I

PROLOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

Chorus

 

    O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend

    The brightest heaven of invention,

    A kingdom for a stage, princes to act

    And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

    Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,

    Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,

    Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire

    Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,

    The flat unraised spirits that have 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

    That did affright the air at Agincourt?

    O, pardon! since a crooked figure may

    Attest in little place a million;

    And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,

    On your imaginary forces work.

    Suppose within the girdle of these walls

    Are now confined two mighty monarchies,

    Whose high upreared and abutting fronts

    The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:

    Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;

    Into a thousand parts divide on man,

    And make imaginary puissance;

    Think when we talk of horses, that you see them

    Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;

    For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,

    Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,

    Turning the accomplishment of many years

    Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,

    Admit me Chorus to this history;

    Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,

    Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

 

    Exit


SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace.

 

    Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY

 

CANTERBURY

 

    My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged,

    Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign

    Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd,

    But that the scambling and unquiet time

    Did push it out of farther question.

 

ELY

 

    But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    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:

    As much as would maintain, to the king's honour,

    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.

    A hundred almshouses right well supplied;

    And to the coffers of the king beside,

    A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill.

 

ELY

 

    This would drink deep.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    'Twould drink the cup and all.

 

ELY

 

    But what prevention?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    The king is full of grace and fair regard.

 

ELY

 

    And a true lover of the holy church.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    The courses of his youth promised it not.

    The breath no sooner left his father's body,

    But that his wildness, mortified in him,

    Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment

    Consideration, like an angel, came

    And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him,

    Leaving his body as a paradise,

    To envelop and contain celestial spirits.

    Never was such a sudden scholar made;

    Never came reformation in a flood,

    With such a heady currance, scouring faults

    Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness

    So soon did lose his seat and all at once

    As in this king.

 

ELY

 

    We are blessed in the change.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    Hear him but reason in divinity,

    And 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

    A fearful battle render'd 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 charter'd libertine, is still,

    And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,

    To steal his sweet and honey'd 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,

    Since his addiction was to courses vain,

    His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow,

    His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports,

    And never noted in him any study,

    Any retirement, any sequestration

    From open haunts and popularity.

 

ELY

 

    The strawberry grows underneath the nettle

    And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best

    Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality:

    And so the prince obscured his contemplation

    Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,

    Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,

    Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    It must be so; for miracles are ceased;

    And therefore we must needs admit the means

    How things are perfected.

 

ELY

 

    But, my good lord,

    How now for mitigation of this bill

    Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty

    Incline to it, or no?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    He seems indifferent,

    Or rather swaying more upon our part

    Than cherishing the exhibiters against us;

    For I have made an offer to his majesty,

    Upon our spiritual convocation

    And in regard of causes now in hand,

    Which I have open'd 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.

 

ELY

 

    How did this offer seem received, my lord?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    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

    Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms

    And generally to the crown and seat of France

    Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather.

 

ELY

 

    What was the impediment that broke this off?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    The French ambassador upon that instant

    Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come

    To give him hearing: is it four o'clock?

 

ELY

 

    It is.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    Then go we in, to know his embassy;

    Which I could with a ready guess declare,

    Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.

 

ELY

 

    I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber.

 

    Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

 

EXETER

 

    Not here in presence.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Send for him, good uncle.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved,

    Before we hear him, of some things of weight

    That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.

 

    Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY

 

CANTERBURY

 

    God and his angels guard your sacred throne

    And make you long become it!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Sure, we thank you.

    My learned lord, we pray you to proceed

    And justly and religiously unfold

    Why the law Salique that they have in France

    Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim:

    And 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 colours with the truth;

    For 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:

    We 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 wrong gives edge unto the swords

    That make 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 wash'd

    As pure as sin with baptism.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,

    That owe yourselves, 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,

    'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:'

    'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:'

    Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze

    To be the realm of France, and Pharamond

    The founder of this law and female bar.

    Yet their own authors faithfully affirm

    That the land Salique is in Germany,

    Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;

    Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons,

    There left behind and settled certain French;

    Who, holding in disdain the German women

    For some dishonest manners of their life,

    Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female

    Should be inheritrix in Salique land:

    Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,

    Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.

    Then doth it well appear that Salique law

    Was not devised for the realm of France:

    Nor did the French possess the Salique land

    Until four hundred one and twenty years

    After 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

    Beyond the river Sala, in the year

    Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,

    King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,

    Did, as heir general, being descended

    Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,

    Make 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,

    'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,

    Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare,

    Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son

    To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son

    Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,

    Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,

    Could not keep quiet in his conscience,

    Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied

    That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,

    Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,

    Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine:

    By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great

    Was re-united to the crown of France.

    So that, as clear as is the summer's sun.

    King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim,

    King Lewis 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 Salique law

    To bar your highness claiming from the female,

    And rather choose to hide them in a net

    Than amply to imbar their crooked titles

    Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    May I with right and conscience make this claim?

 

CANTERBURY

 

    The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!

    For 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:

    Go, 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 play'd a tragedy,

    Making defeat on the full power of France,

    Whiles his most mighty father on a hill

    Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp

    Forage in blood of French nobility.

    O noble English. that could entertain

    With half their forces the full Pride of France

    And let another half stand laughing by,

    All out of work and cold for action!

 

ELY

 

    Awake remembrance of these valiant dead

    And with your puissant arm renew their feats:

    You are their heir; you sit upon their throne;

    The blood and courage that renowned 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.

 

EXETER

 

    Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth

    Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,

    As did the former lions of your blood.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    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,

    Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England

    And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,

    With blood and sword and fire to win your right;

    In aid whereof we of the spiritualty

    Will raise your highness such a mighty sum

    As never did the clergy at one time

    Bring in to any of your ancestors.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    We must not only arm to invade the French,

    But lay down our proportions to defend

    Against the Scot, who will make road upon us

    With all advantages.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    They of those marches, gracious sovereign,

    Shall be a wall sufficient to defend

    Our inland from the pilfering borderers.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,

    But fear the main intendment of the Scot,

    Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;

    For you shall read that my great-grandfather

    Never went with his forces into France

    But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom

    Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,

    With ample and brim fulness of his force,

    Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,

    Girding with grievous siege castles and towns;

    That England, being empty of defence,

    Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege;

    For hear her but exampled by herself:

    When all her chivalry hath been in France

    And 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

    And make her chronicle as rich with praise

    As is the ooze and bottom of the sea

    With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    But there's a saying very old and true,

    'If that you will France win,

    Then with Scotland first begin:'

    For once the eagle England being in prey,

    To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot

    Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs,

    Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,

    To tear and havoc more than she can eat.

 

EXETER

 

    It follows then the cat must stay at home:

    Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,

    Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,

    And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.

    While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,

    The advised 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.

 

CANTERBURY

 

    Therefore doth heaven divide

    The state of man in divers functions,

    Setting endeavour in continual motion;

    To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,

    Obedience: for so work the honey-bees,

    Creatures 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,

    Others, like soldiers, armed 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 majesty, surveys

    The 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,

    Delivering 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, loosed several ways,

    Come 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 centre;

    So may a thousand actions, once afoot.

    End in one purpose, and be all well borne

    Without 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,

    Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,

    Let us be worried and our nation lose

    The name of hardiness and policy.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.

 

    Exeunt some Attendants

    Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help,

    And 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,

    Or 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,

    Not worshipp'd 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.

 

First Ambassador

 

    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 V

 

    We are no tyrant, but a Christian king;

    Unto whose grace our passion is as subject

    As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons:

    Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness

    Tell us the Dauphin's mind.

 

First Ambassador

 

    Thus, then, in few.

    Your 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 savour too much of your youth,

    And bids you be advised there's nought 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,

    Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim

    Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What treasure, uncle?

 

EXETER

 

    Tennis-balls, my liege.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;

    His present and your pains we thank you for:

    When we have march'd 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

    That all the courts of France will be disturb'd

    With chaces. 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;

    And therefore, living hence, did give ourself

    To barbarous licence; 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

    When 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,

    Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.

    And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his

    Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul

    Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance

    That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows

    Shall 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,

    To 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-hallow'd cause.

    So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin

    His jest will savour but of shallow wit,

    When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.

    Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.

 

    Exeunt Ambassadors

 

EXETER

 

    This was a merry message.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

    Therefore 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.

    Therefore let every man now task his thought,

    That this fair action may on foot be brought.

 

    Exeunt. Flourish

 


ACT II

PROLOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

Chorus

 

    Now all the youth of England are on fire,

    And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies:

    Now thrive the armourers, and honour'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 winged heels, as English Mercuries.

    For 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

    Of 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,

    What mightst thou do, that honour 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,

    One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second,

    Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third,

    Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland,

    Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed!

    Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;

    And 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

    The abuse of distance; force a play:

    The 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,

    And 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, till the king come forth, and not till then,

    Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE I. London. A street.

 

    Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Well met, Corporal Nym.

 

NYM

 

    Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

 

NYM

 

    For my part, I care not: I say little; but when

    time 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.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and

    we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it

    be so, good Corporal Nym.

 

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 as I may: that is my rest, that is the

    rendezvous of it.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell

    Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you

    were troth-plight to her.

 

NYM

 

    I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may

    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.

 

    Enter PISTOL and Hostess

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good

    corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!

 

PISTOL

 

    Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand,

    I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

 

Hostess

 

    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 thought we keep a bawdy house straight.

 

    NYM and PISTOL draw

    O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we

    shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.

 

NYM

 

    Pish!

 

PISTOL

 

    Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland!

 

Hostess

 

    Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.

 

NYM

 

    Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

 

PISTOL

 

    'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!

    The 'solus' in thy most mervailous 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 Pistol's cock is up,

    And flashing fire will follow.

 

NYM

 

    I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an

    humour 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

    off, I would prick your guts a little, in good

    terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it.

 

PISTOL

 

    O braggart vile and damned furious wight!

    The grave doth gape, and doting death is near;

    Therefore exhale.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the

    first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.

 

    Draws

 

PISTOL

 

    An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

    Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give:

    Thy spirits are most tall.

 

NYM

 

    I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair

    terms: that is the humour of it.

 

PISTOL

 

    'Couple a gorge!'

    That is the word. I thee defy again.

    O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?

    No; to the spital go,

    And from the powdering 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.

 

    Enter the Boy

 

Boy

 

    Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and

    you, 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.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Away, you rogue!

 

Hostess

 

    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 Hostess and Boy

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to

    France together: why the devil should we keep

    knives to cut one another's throats?

 

PISTOL

 

    Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

 

NYM

 

    You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?

 

PISTOL

 

    Base is the slave that pays.

 

NYM

 

    That now I will have: that's the humour of it.

 

PISTOL

 

    As manhood shall compound: push home.

 

    They draw

 

BARDOLPH

 

    By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll

    kill him; by this sword, I will.

 

PISTOL

 

    Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends:

    an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too.

    Prithee, put up.

 

NYM

 

    I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?

 

PISTOL

 

    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 thy hand.

 

NYM

 

    I shall have my noble?

 

PISTOL

 

    In cash most justly paid.

 

NYM

 

    Well, then, that's the humour of't.

 

    Re-enter Hostess

 

Hostess

 

    As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir

    John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning

    quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to

    behold. Sweet men, come to him.

 

NYM

 

    The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's

    the even of it.

 

PISTOL

 

    Nym, thou hast spoke the right;

    His heart is fracted and corroborate.

 

NYM

 

    The king is a good king: but it must be as it may;

    he passes some humours and careers.

 

PISTOL

 

    Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live.

 


SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber.

 

    Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND

 

BEDFORD

 

    'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors.

 

EXETER

 

    They shall be apprehended by and by.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    How smooth and even they do bear themselves!

    As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,

    Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.

 

BEDFORD

 

    The king hath note of all that they intend,

    By interception which they dream not of.

 

EXETER

 

    Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,

    Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours,

    That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell

    His sovereign's life to death and treachery.

 

    Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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

    Will cut their passage through the force of France,

    Doing the execution and the act

    For which we have in head assembled them?

 

SCROOP

 

    No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded

    We 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.

 

CAMBRIDGE

 

    Never was monarch better fear'd and loved

    Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject

    That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness

    Under the sweet shade of your government.

 

GREY

 

    True: those that were your father's enemies

    Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you

    With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

SCROOP

 

    So service shall with steeled sinews toil,

    And labour shall refresh itself with hope,

    To do your grace incessant services.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,

    Enlarge the man committed yesterday,

    That rail'd against our person: we consider

    it was excess of wine that set him on;

    And on his more advice we pardon him.

 

SCROOP

 

    That's mercy, but too much security:

    Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example

    Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    O, let us yet be merciful.

 

CAMBRIDGE

 

    So may your highness, and yet punish too.

 

GREY

 

    Sir,

    You show great mercy, if you give him life,

    After the taste of much correction.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye

    When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested,

    Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,

    Though Cambridge, Scroop 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?

 

CAMBRIDGE

 

    I one, my lord:

    Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.

 

SCROOP

 

    So did you me, my liege.

 

GREY

 

    And I, my royal sovereign.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;

    There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight,

    Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours:

    Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.

    My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter,

    We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen!

    What 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 hath so cowarded and chased your blood

    Out of appearance?

 

CAMBRIDGE

 

    I do confess my fault;

    And do submit me to your highness' mercy.

 

GREY SCROOP

 

    To which we all appeal.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    The mercy that was quick in us but late,

    By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:

    You 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,

    You know how apt our love was to accord

    To furnish him with all appertinents

    Belonging to his honour; and this man

    Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired,

    And sworn unto the practises of France,

    To kill us here in Hampton: to the which

    This knight, no less for bounty bound to us

    Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O,

    What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel,

    Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature!

    Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,

    That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,

    That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,

    Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use,

    May it be possible, that foreign hire

    Could 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,

    As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,

    Working so grossly in a natural cause,

    That admiration did not whoop at them:

    But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in

    Wonder to wait on treason and on murder:

    And whatsoever cunning fiend it was

    That wrought upon thee so preposterously

    Hath got the voice in hell for excellence:

    All other devils that suggest by treasons

    Do botch and bungle up damnation

    With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd

    From glistering semblances of piety;

    But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,

    Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,

    Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.

    If that same demon that hath gull'd 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.'

    O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected

    The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?

    Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned?

    Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family?

    Why, so didst thou: seem they religious?

    Why, 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,

    Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,

    Not working with the eye without the ear,

    And but in purged judgment trusting neither?

    Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem:

    And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,

    To mark the full-fraught man and best indued

    With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;

    For 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 practises!

 

EXETER

 

    I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of

    Richard Earl of Cambridge.

    I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of

    Henry Lord Scroop of Masham.

    I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of

    Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland.

 

SCROOP

 

    Our purposes God justly hath discover'd;

    And I repent my fault more than my death;

    Which I beseech your highness to forgive,

    Although my body pay the price of it.

 

CAMBRIDGE

 

    For me, the gold of France did not seduce;

    Although I did admit it as a motive

    The sooner to effect what I intended:

    But God be thanked for prevention;

    Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,

    Beseeching God and you to pardon me.

 

GREY

 

    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 damned enterprise:

    My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.

    You have conspired against our royal person,

    Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers

    Received the golden earnest of our death;

    Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,

    His 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,

    Whose ruin you have 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

    Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence.

 

    Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, 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

    This dangerous treason lurking in our way

    To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now

    But every rub is smoothed on our way.

    Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver

    Our puissance into the hand of God,

    Putting it straight in expedition.

    Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:

    No king of England, if not king of France.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. London. Before a tavern.

 

    Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy

 

Hostess

 

    Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.

 

PISTOL

 

    No; for my manly heart doth yearn.

    Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:

    Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,

    And we must yearn therefore.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in

    heaven or in hell!

 

Hostess

 

    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 child; a' parted even just between twelve

    and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after

    I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with

    flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew

    there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as

    a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now,

    sir 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 feet: I put my

    hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as

    cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and

    they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and

    upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

 

NYM

 

    They say he cried out of sack.

 

Hostess

 

    Ay, that a' did.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    And of women.

 

Hostess

 

    Nay, that a' did not.

 

Boy

 

    Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils

    incarnate.

 

Hostess

 

    A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he

    never liked.

 

Boy

 

    A' said once, the devil would have him about women.

 

Hostess

 

    A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then

    he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.

 

Boy

 

    Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon

    Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul

    burning in hell-fire?

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire:

    that's all the riches I got in his service.

 

NYM

 

    Shall we shog? the king will be gone from

    Southampton.

 

PISTOL

 

    Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.

    Look to my chattels and my movables:

    Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:'

    Trust none;

    For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,

    And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck:

    Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.

    Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,

    Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys,

    To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!

 

Boy

 

    And that's but unwholesome food they say.

 

PISTOL

 

    Touch her soft mouth, and march.

 

BARDOLPH

 

    Farewell, hostess.

 

    Kissing her

 

NYM

 

    I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu.

 

PISTOL

 

    Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.

 

Hostess

 

    Farewell; adieu.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace.

 

    Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Thus comes the English with full power upon us;

    And more than carefully it us concerns

    To answer royally in our defences.

    Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne,

    Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,

    And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch,

    To line and new repair our towns of war

    With 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

    Left by the fatal and neglected English

    Upon our fields.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    My most redoubted father,

    It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe;

    For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,

    Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,

    But that defences, musters, preparations,

    Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected,

    As were a war in expectation.

    Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth

    To 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 king'd,

    Her sceptre so fantastically borne

    By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,

    That fear attends her not.

 

Constable

 

    O peace, Prince Dauphin!

    You are too much mistaken in this king:

    Question your grace the late ambassadors,

    With what great state he heard their embassy,

    How well supplied with noble counsellors,

    How modest in exception, and withal

    How terrible in constant resolution,

    And 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.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable;

    But though we think it so, it is no matter:

    In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh

    The enemy more mighty than he seems:

    So the proportions of defence are fill'd;

    Which of a weak or niggardly projection

    Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting

    A little cloth.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Think we King Harry strong;

    And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.

    The kindred of him hath been flesh'd 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 Cressy battle fatally was struck,

    And all our princes captiv'd by the hand

    Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales;

    Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing,

    Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,

    Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him,

    Mangle 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.

 

    Enter a Messenger

 

Messenger

 

    Ambassadors from Harry King of England

    Do crave admittance to your majesty.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them.

 

    Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords

    You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    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

    Of what a monarchy you are the head:

    Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin

    As self-neglecting.

 

    Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    From our brother England?

 

EXETER

 

    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 borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven,

    By law of nature and of nations, 'long

    To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown

    And all wide-stretched honours 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,

    Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,

    Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,

    He sends you this most memorable line,

    In every branch truly demonstrative;

    Willing to overlook this pedigree:

    And 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.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Or else what follows?

 

EXETER

 

    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,

    That, 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

    Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries

    The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans,

    For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers,

    That shall be swallow'd in this controversy.

    This is his claim, his threatening and my message;

    Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,

    To whom expressly I bring greeting too.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    For us, we will consider of this further:

    To-morrow shall you bear our full intent

    Back to our brother England.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    For the Dauphin,

    I stand here for him: what to him from England?

 

EXETER

 

    Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt,

    And any thing that may not misbecome

    The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.

    Thus 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

    Shall chide your trespass and return your mock

    In second accent of his ordnance.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Say, if my father render fair return,

    It is against my will; for I desire

    Nothing but odds with England: to that end,

    As matching to his youth and vanity,

    I did present him with the Paris balls.

 

EXETER

 

    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,

    As 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.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.

 

EXETER

 

    Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king

    Come here himself to question our delay;

    For he is footed in this land already.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions:

    A night is but small breath and little pause

    To answer matters of this consequence.

 

    Flourish. Exeunt

 


ACT III

PROLOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

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 Hampton pier

    Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet

    With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning:

    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,

    Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,

    Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,

    Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think

    You stand upon the ravage and behold

    A city on the inconstant billows dancing;

    For 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,

    Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance;

    For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd

    With one appearing hair, that will not follow

    These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?

    Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege;

    Behold the ordnance on their carriages,

    With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.

    Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back;

    Tells Harry that the king doth offer him

    Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry,

    Some 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,

    And eke out our performance with your mind.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur.

 

    Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

    Or 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;

    Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,

    Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;

    Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

    Let pry through the portage of the head

    Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it

    As fearfully as doth a galled rock

    O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,

    Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.

    Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,

    Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit

    To his full height. On, on, you noblest 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:

    Dishonour not your mothers; now attest

    That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.

    Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

    And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,

    Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

    The 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 lustre in your eyes.

    I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

    Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:

    Follow your spirit, and upon this charge

    Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

 

    Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off

 


SCENE II. The same.

 

    Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy

 

BARDOLPH

 

    On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!

 

NYM

 

    Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot;

    and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives:

    the humour of it is too hot, that is the very

    plain-song of it.

 

PISTOL

 

    The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound:

    Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;

    And sword and shield,

    In bloody field,

    Doth win immortal fame.

 

Boy

 

    Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give

    all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.

 

PISTOL

 

    And I:

    If wishes would prevail with me,

    My purpose should not fail with me,

    But thither would I hie.

 

Boy

 

    As duly, but not as truly,

    As bird doth sing on bough.

 

    Enter FLUELLEN

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions!

 

    Driving them forward

 

PISTOL

 

    Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.

    Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,

    Abate thy rage, great duke!

    Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!

 

NYM

 

    These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours.

 

    Exeunt all but Boy

 

Boy

 

    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 means 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 his 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

    any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a

    lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for

    three half pence. 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 or 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 villany goes against my weak stomach, and

    therefore I must cast it up.

 

    Exit

 

    Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following

 

GOWER

 

    Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the

    mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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,

    the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look

    you, is digt himself four yard under the

    countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up

    all, if there is not better directions.

 

GOWER

 

    The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the

    siege is given, is altogether directed by an

    Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?

 

GOWER

 

    I think it be.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will

    verify as much in his beard: be has no more

    directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look

    you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.

 

    Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY

 

GOWER

 

    Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous 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 the disciplines of the pristine wars

    of the Romans.

 

JAMY

 

    I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    God-den to your worship, good Captain James.

 

GOWER

 

    How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the

    mines? have the pioneers given o'er?

 

MACMORRIS

 

    By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give

    over, the trompet 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, so

    Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done,

    tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you

    voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you,

    as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of

    the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument,

    look you, and friendly communication; partly to

    satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction,

    look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of

    the military discipline; that is the point.

 

JAMY

 

    It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath:

    and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick

    occasion; that sall I, marry.

 

MACMORRIS

 

    It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the

    day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the

    king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The

    town is beseeched, 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 done; and there

    ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la!

 

JAMY

 

    By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves

    to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i'

    the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay

    't as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do,

    that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full

    fain hear some question 'tween you tway.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your

    correction, there is not many of your nation--

 

MACMORRIS

 

    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?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is

    meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall 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.

 

MACMORRIS

 

    I do not know you so good a man as myself: so

    Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.

 

GOWER

 

    Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.

 

JAMY

 

    A! that's a foul fault.

 

    A parley sounded

 

GOWER

 

    The town sounds a parley.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The same. Before the gates.

 

    The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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,

    A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,

    If I begin the battery once again,

    I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur

    Till in her ashes she lie buried.

    The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,

    And the flesh'd 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 flowering infants.

    What is it then to me, if impious war,

    Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,

    Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats

    Enlink'd to waste and desolation?

    What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,

    If your pure maidens fall into the hand

    Of 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 the enraged soldiers in their spoil

    As 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

    O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds

    Of heady murder, spoil and villany.

    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;

    Your fathers taken by the silver beards,

    And their most reverend heads dash'd 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

    At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.

    What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,

    Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?

 

GOVERNOR

 

    Our expectation hath this day an end:

    The 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;

    For we no longer are defensible.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Open your gates. 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,

    The winter coming on and sickness growing

    Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.

    To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest;

    To-morrow for the march are we addrest.

 

    Flourish. The King and his train enter the town

 


SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace.

 

    Enter KATHARINE and ALICE

 

KATHARINE

 

    Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage.

 

ALICE

 

    Un peu, madame.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a

    parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?

 

ALICE

 

    La main? elle est appelee de hand.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De hand. Et les doigts?

 

ALICE

 

    Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me

    souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont

    appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres.

 

KATHARINE

 

    La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense

    que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots

    d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles?

 

ALICE

 

    Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de

    hand, de fingres, et de nails.

 

ALICE

 

    C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras.

 

ALICE

 

    De arm, madame.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Et le coude?

 

ALICE

 

    De elbow.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les

    mots que vous m'avez appris des a present.

 

ALICE

 

    Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres,

    de nails, de arma, de bilbow.

 

ALICE

 

    De elbow, madame.

 

KATHARINE

 

    O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment

    appelez-vous le col?

 

ALICE

 

    De neck, madame.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De nick. Et le menton?

 

ALICE

 

    De chin.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin.

 

ALICE

 

    Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez

    les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu,

    et en peu de temps.

 

ALICE

 

    N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de

    fingres, de mails--

 

ALICE

 

    De nails, madame.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De nails, de arm, de ilbow.

 

ALICE

 

    Sauf votre honneur, de elbow.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment

    appelez-vous le pied et la robe?

 

ALICE

 

    De foot, madame; et de coun.

 

KATHARINE

 

    De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots

    de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et

    non pour 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 coun!

    Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon

    ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de

    elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun.

 

ALICE

 

    Excellent, madame!

 

KATHARINE

 

    C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE V. The same.

 

    Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.

 

Constable

 

    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.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,

    The emptying of our fathers' luxury,

    Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,

    Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,

    And overlook their grafters?

 

BOURBON

 

    Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!

    Mort de ma vie! if they march along

    Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,

    To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm

    In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.

 

Constable

 

    Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?

    Is 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-rein'd jades, their barley-broth,

    Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?

    And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,

    Seem frosty? O, for honour 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!

    Poor we may call them in their native lords.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    By faith and honour,

    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

    To new-store France with bastard warriors.

 

BOURBON

 

    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.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence:

    Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.

    Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged

    More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:

    Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;

    You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri,

    Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;

    Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,

    Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg,

    Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;

    High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights,

    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

    Upon 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.

 

Constable

 

    This becomes the great.

    Sorry am I his numbers are so few,

    His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march,

    For I am sure, when he shall see our army,

    He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear

    And for achievement offer us his ransom.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    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.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Not so, I do beseech your majesty.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Be patient, for you shall remain with us.

    Now forth, lord constable and princes all,

    And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy.

 

    Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting

 

GOWER

 

    How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    I assure you, there is very excellent services

    committed at the bridge.

 

GOWER

 

    Is the Duke of Exeter safe?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon;

    and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my

    heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and

    my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and

    blessed!--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 did see him do as

    gallant service.

 

GOWER

 

    What do you call him?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    He is called Aunchient Pistol.

 

GOWER

 

    I know him not.

 

    Enter PISTOL

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Here is the man.

 

PISTOL

 

    Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours:

    The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at

    his hands.

 

PISTOL

 

    Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,

    And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate,

    And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,

    That goddess blind,

    That stands upon the rolling restless stone--

 

FLUELLEN

 

    By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is

    painted blind, with a muffler afore her 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 spherical stone,

    which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth,

    the poet makes a most excellent description of it:

    Fortune is an excellent moral.

 

PISTOL

 

    Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;

    For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be:

    A damned death!

    Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free

    And let not hemp his wind-pipe 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 penny cord and vile reproach:

    Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.

 

PISTOL

 

    Why then, rejoice therefore.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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.

 

PISTOL

 

    Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!

 

FLUELLEN

 

    It is well.

 

PISTOL

 

    The fig of Spain!

 

    Exit

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Very good.

 

GOWER

 

    Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I

    remember him now; a bawd, a cutpurse.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    I'll assure you, a' uttered as brave words at the

    bridge 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.

 

GOWER

 

    Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then

    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 convoy; 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 among 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 marvellously mistook.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    I tell you what, Captain Gower; I do perceive he 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 heard

    Hark you, the king is coming, and I must speak with

    him from the pridge.

 

    Drum and colours. Enter KING HENRY, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers

    God pless your majesty!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    How now, Fluellen! camest thou from the bridge?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Ay, so please your majesty. The Duke of Exeter has

    very gallantly maintained the pridge: the French is

    gone 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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What men have you lost, Fluellen?

 

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, if your majesty know the man: his face is

    all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o'

    fire: 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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the

    gentler gamester is the soonest winner.

 

    Tucket. Enter MONTJOY

 

MONTJOY

 

    You know me by my habit.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Well then I know thee: what shall I know of thee?

 

MONTJOY

 

    My master's mind.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Unfold it.

 

MONTJOY

 

    Thus says my king: Say thou to Harry of England:

    Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep: advantage

    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 weakness, 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 too poor; for the

    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 condemnation is pronounced. So far

    my king and master; so much my office.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What is thy name? I know thy quality.

 

MONTJOY

 

    Montjoy.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back.

    And 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,

    My 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

    Did 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,

    My army but a weak and sickly guard;

    Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,

    Though France himself and such another neighbour

    Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.

    Go bid thy master well advise himself:

    If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,

    We shall your tawny ground with your red blood

    Discolour: and so Montjoy, fare you well.

    The sum of all our answer is but this:

    We would not seek a battle, as we are;

    Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it:

    So tell your master.

 

MONTJOY

 

    I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.

 

    Exit

 

GLOUCESTER

 

    I hope they will not come upon us now.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 to-morrow, bid them march away.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE VII. The French camp, near Agincourt:

 

    Enter the Constable of France, the LORD RAMBURES, ORLEANS, DAUPHIN, with others

 

Constable

 

    Tut! I have the best armour of the world. Would it were day!

 

ORLEANS

 

    You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.

 

Constable

 

    It is the best horse of Europe.

 

ORLEANS

 

    Will it never be morning?

 

DAUPHIN

 

    My lord of Orleans, and my lord high constable, you

    talk of horse and armour?

 

ORLEANS

 

    You are as well provided of both as any prince in the world.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    What a long night is this! I will not change my

    horse with any that treads but on four pasterns.

    Ca, ha! he bounds from the earth, as if his

    entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus,

    chez les narines de feu! 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.

 

ORLEANS

 

    He's of the colour of the nutmeg.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    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 beasts.

 

Constable

 

    Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like the

    bidding of a monarch and his countenance enforces homage.

 

ORLEANS

 

    No more, cousin.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    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

    fluent 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 and wonder at him. I

    once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus:

    'Wonder of nature,'--

 

ORLEANS

 

    I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Then did they imitate that which I composed to my

    courser, for my horse is my mistress.

 

ORLEANS

 

    Your mistress bears well.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Me well; which is the prescript praise and

    perfection of a good and particular mistress.

 

Constable

 

    Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly

    shook your back.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    So perhaps did yours.

 

Constable

 

    Mine was not bridled.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    O then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode,

    like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, and in

    your straight strossers.

 

Constable

 

    You have good judgment in horsemanship.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Be warned by me, then: they that ride so and ride

    not warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have

    my horse to my mistress.

 

Constable

 

    I had as lief have my mistress a jade.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears his own hair.

 

Constable

 

    I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a sow

    to my mistress.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    'Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et

    la truie lavee au bourbier;' thou makest use of any thing.

 

Constable

 

    Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any

    such proverb so little kin to the purpose.

 

RAMBURES

 

    My lord constable, the armour that I saw in your tent

    to-night, are those stars or suns upon it?

 

Constable

 

    Stars, my lord.

 

DAUPHIN

 

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

 

Constable

 

    And yet my sky shall not want.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and

    'twere more honour some were away.

 

Constable

 

    Even as your horse bears your praises; who would

    trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will

    it never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile, and

    my way shall be paved with English faces.

 

Constable

 

    I will not say so, for fear I should be faced out of

    my way: but I would it were morning; for I would

    fain be about the ears of the English.

 

RAMBURES

 

    Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners?

 

Constable

 

    You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you have them.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself.

 

    Exit

 

ORLEANS

 

    The Dauphin longs for morning.

 

RAMBURES

 

    He longs to eat the English.

 

Constable

 

    I think he will eat all he kills.

 

ORLEANS

 

    By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.

 

Constable

 

    Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.

 

ORLEANS

 

    He is simply the most active gentleman of France.

 

Constable

 

    Doing is activity; and he will still be doing.

 

ORLEANS

 

    He never did harm, that I heard of.

 

Constable

 

    Nor will do none to-morrow: he will keep that good name still.

 

ORLEANS

 

    I know him to be valiant.

 

Constable

 

    I was told that by one that knows him better than

    you.

 

ORLEANS

 

    What's he?

 

Constable

 

    Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he cared

    not who knew it

 

ORLEANS

 

    He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him.

 

Constable

 

    By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body saw it

    but his lackey: 'tis a hooded valour; and when it

    appears, it will bate.

 

ORLEANS

 

    Ill will never said well.

 

Constable

 

    I will cap that proverb with 'There is flattery in friendship.'

 

ORLEANS

 

    And I will take up that with 'Give the devil his due.'

 

Constable

 

    Well placed: there stands your friend for the

    devil: have at the very eye of that proverb with 'A

    pox of the devil.'

 

ORLEANS

 

    You are the better at proverbs, by how much 'A

    fool's bolt is soon shot.'

 

Constable

 

    You have shot over.

 

ORLEANS

 

    'Tis not the first time you were overshot.

 

    Enter a Messenger

 

Messenger

 

    My lord high constable, the English lie within

    fifteen hundred paces of your tents.

 

Constable

 

    Who hath measured the ground?

 

Messenger

 

    The Lord Grandpre.

 

Constable

 

    A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were

    day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for

    the dawning as we do.

 

ORLEANS

 

    What a wretched and peevish fellow is this king of

    England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so

    far out of his knowledge!

 

Constable

 

    If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.

 

ORLEANS

 

    That they lack; for if their heads had any

    intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy

    head-pieces.

 

RAMBURES

 

    That island of England breeds very valiant

    creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

 

ORLEANS

 

    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 lion.

 

Constable

 

    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 will

    eat like wolves and fight like devils.

 

ORLEANS

 

    Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.

 

Constable

 

    Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs

    to eat and none to fight. Now is it time to arm:

    come, shall we about it?

 

ORLEANS

 

    It is now two o'clock: but, let me see, by ten

    We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.

 

    Exeunt

 


ACT IV

PROLOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

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,

    That 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 umber'd face;

    Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs

    Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents

    The armourers, accomplishing the knights,

    With busy hammers closing rivets up,

    Give dreadful note of preparation:

    The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,

    And the third hour of drowsy morning name.

    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

    Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp

    So tediously away. The poor condemned English,

    Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires

    Sit patiently and inly ruminate

    The morning's danger, and their gesture sad

    Investing lank-lean; cheeks and war-worn coats

    Presenteth them unto the gazing moon

    So many horrid ghosts. O now, who will behold

    The royal captain of this ruin'd band

    Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,

    Let 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

    How dread an army hath enrounded him;

    Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour

    Unto the weary and all-watched night,

    But freshly looks and over-bears attaint

    With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;

    That 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 every one,

    Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all,

    Behold, as may unworthiness define,

    A little touch of Harry in the night.

    And so our scene must to the battle fly;

    Where--O for pity!--we shall much disgrace

    With four or five most vile and ragged foils,

    Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,

    The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,

    Minding true things by what their mockeries be.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE I. The English camp at Agincourt.

 

    Enter KING HENRY, BEDFORD, and GLOUCESTER

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 distil it out.

    For our bad neighbour 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.

    Thus 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

    Were better than a churlish turf of France.

 

ERPINGHAM

 

    Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better,

    Since I may say 'Now lie I like a king.'

 

KING HENRY V

 

    'Tis good for men to love their present pains

    Upon example; so the spirit is eased:

    And when the mind is quicken'd, 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,

    Commend me to the princes in our camp;

    Do my good morrow to them, and anon

    Desire them an to my pavilion.

 

GLOUCESTER

 

    We shall, my liege.

 

ERPINGHAM

 

    Shall I attend your grace?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

ERPINGHAM

 

    The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!

 

    Exeunt all but KING HENRY

 

KING HENRY V

 

    God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.

 

    Enter PISTOL

 

PISTOL

 

    Qui va la?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    A friend.

 

PISTOL

 

    Discuss unto me; art thou officer?

    Or art thou base, common and popular?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I am a gentleman of a company.

 

PISTOL

 

    Trail'st thou the puissant pike?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Even so. What are you?

 

PISTOL

 

    As good a gentleman as the emperor.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then you are a better than the king.

 

PISTOL

 

    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 heart-string

    I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Harry le Roy.

 

PISTOL

 

    Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    No, I am a Welshman.

 

PISTOL

 

    Know'st thou Fluellen?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Yes.

 

PISTOL

 

    Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate

    Upon Saint Davy's day.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day,

    lest he knock that about yours.

 

PISTOL

 

    Art thou his friend?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    And his kinsman too.

 

PISTOL

 

    The figo for thee, then!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I thank you: God be with you!

 

PISTOL

 

    My name is Pistol call'd.

 

    Exit

 

KING HENRY V

 

    It sorts well with your fierceness.

 

    Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER

 

GOWER

 

    Captain Fluellen!

 

FLUELLEN

 

    So! in the name of Jesu Christ, speak lower. It is

    the greatest admiration of the universal world, when

    the true and aunchient prerogatifes 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 toddle

    nor pibble pabble in 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.

 

GOWER

 

    Why, the enemy is loud; you hear him all night.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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?

 

GOWER

 

    I will speak lower.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    I pray you and beseech you that you will.

 

    Exeunt GOWER and FLUELLEN

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Though it appear a little out of fashion,

    There is much care and valour in this Welshman.

 

    Enter three soldiers, JOHN BATES, ALEXANDER COURT, and MICHAEL WILLIAMS

 

COURT

 

    Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which

    breaks yonder?

 

BATES

 

    I think it be: but we have no great cause to desire

    the approach of day.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think

    we shall never see the end of it. Who goes there?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    A friend.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Under what captain serve you?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    A good old commander and a most kind gentleman: I

    pray you, what thinks he of our estate?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be

    washed off the next tide.

 

BATES

 

    He hath not told his thought to the king?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 human 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 the 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.

 

BATES

 

    He may show what outward courage he will; but I

    believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish

    himself 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 V

 

    By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the king:

    I think he would not wish himself any where but

    where he is.

 

BATES

 

    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 V

 

    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 any where so

    contented as in the king's company; his cause being

    just and his quarrel honourable.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    That's more than we know.

 

BATES

 

    Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know

    enough, if we know we are the kings subjects: if

    his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes

    the crime of it out of us.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    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 battle, shall 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 afeard there are few die

    well that die in a battle; for how can they

    charitably dispose of any thing, 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; whom to disobey were against all proportion of

    subjection.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 money, 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 of

    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 arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all

    unspotted soldiers: some peradventure have on them

    the guilt of premeditated 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 outrun native punishment,

    though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to

    fly from God: war is his beadle, war is 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, they 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 every 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 gained:

    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.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon

    his own head, the king is not to answer it.

 

BATES

 

    But I do not desire he should answer for me; and

    yet I determine to fight lustily for him.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    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 V

 

    If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    You pay him then. That's a perilous shot out of an

    elder-gun, that a poor and 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! come, 'tis a foolish saying.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Your reproof is something too round: I should be

    angry with you, if the time were convenient.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I embrace it.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    How shall I know thee again?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Here's my glove: give me another of thine.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    There.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou come

    to me and say, after to-morrow, 'This is my glove,'

    by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Thou darest as well be hanged.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Well. I will do it, though I take thee in the

    king's company.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Keep thy word: fare thee well.

 

BATES

 

    Be friends, you English fools, be friends: we have

    French quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Indeed, the French may lay twenty French crowns to

    one, they will beat us; for they bear them on their

    shoulders: but it is no English treason to cut

    French crowns, and to-morrow the king himself will

    be a clipper.

 

    Exeunt soldiers

    Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,

    Our 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 no 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?

    And what art thou, thou idle 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!

    What 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 fear'd

    Than they in fearing.

    What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,

    But poison'd 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?

    Will 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

    'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball,

    The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,

    The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,

    The farced title running 'fore the king,

    The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp

    That 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 fill'd and vacant mind

    Gets him to rest, cramm'd 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,

    Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,

    And follows so the ever-running year,

    With profitable labour, to his grave:

    And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,

    Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,

    Had the fore-hand 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.

 

    Enter ERPINGHAM

 

ERPINGHAM

 

    My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,

    Seek through your camp to find you.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Good old knight,

    Collect them all together at my tent:

    I'll be before thee.

 

ERPINGHAM

 

    I shall do't, my lord.

 

    Exit

 

KING HENRY V

 

    O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;

    Possess them not with fear; take from them now

    The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers

    Pluck their hearts from them. Not to-day, O Lord,

    O, not to-day, think not upon the fault

    My father made in compassing the crown!

    I Richard's body have interred anew;

    And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears

    Than from it issued forced drops of blood:

    Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,

    Who twice a-day their wither'd hands hold up

    Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built

    Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests

    Sing still for 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

 

GLOUCESTER

 

    My liege!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    My brother Gloucester's voice? Ay;

    I know thy errand, I will go with thee:

    The day, my friends and all things stay for me.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. The French camp.

 

    Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and others

 

ORLEANS

 

    The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords!

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Montez A cheval! My horse! varlet! laquais! ha!

 

ORLEANS

 

    O brave spirit!

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Via! les eaux et la terre.

 

ORLEANS

 

    Rien puis? L'air et la feu.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Ciel, cousin Orleans.

 

    Enter Constable

    Now, my lord constable!

 

Constable

 

    Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh!

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Mount them, and make incision in their hides,

    That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,

    And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!

 

RAMBURES

 

    What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?

    How shall we, then, behold their natural tears?

 

    Enter Messenger

 

Messenger

 

    The English are embattled, you French peers.

 

Constable

 

    To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!

    Do but behold yon poor and starved band,

    And your fair show shall suck away their souls,

    Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.

    There is not work enough for all our hands;

    Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins

    To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,

    That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,

    And sheathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,

    The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.

    'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,

    That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,

    Who in unnecessary action swarm

    About our squares of battle, were enow

    To purge this field of such a hilding foe,

    Though we upon this mountain's basis by

    Took stand for idle speculation:

    But that our honours must not. What's to say?

    A very little little let us do.

    And 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 GRANDPRE

 

GRANDPRE

 

    Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?

    Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,

    Ill-favouredly become the morning field:

    Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,

    And our air shakes them passing scornfully:

    Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host

    And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps:

    The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,

    With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades

    Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,

    The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes

    And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit

    Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless;

    And their executors, the knavish crows,

    Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.

    Description cannot suit itself in words

    To demonstrate the life of such a battle

    In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

 

Constable

 

    They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits

    And give their fasting horses provender,

    And after fight with them?

 

Constable

 

    I stay but for my guidon: to the field!

    I will the banner from a trumpet take,

    And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!

    The sun is high, and we outwear the day.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The English camp.

 

    Enter GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host: SALISBURY and WESTMORELAND

 

GLOUCESTER

 

    Where is the king?

 

BEDFORD

 

    The king himself is rode to view their battle.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Of fighting men they have full three score thousand.

 

EXETER

 

    There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.

 

SALISBURY

 

    God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.

    God be 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,

    My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,

    And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!

 

BEDFORD

 

    Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!

 

EXETER

 

    Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:

    And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,

    For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.

 

    Exit SALISBURY

 

BEDFORD

 

    He is full of valour as of kindness;

    Princely in both.

 

    Enter the KING

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    O that we now had here

    But one ten thousand of those men in England

    That do no work to-day!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What's he that wishes so?

    My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:

    If we are mark'd to die, we are enow

    To do our country loss; and if to live,

    The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

    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;

    It yearns me not if men my garments wear;

    Such outward things dwell not in my desires:

    But if it be a sin to covet honour,

    I am the most offending soul alive.

    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:

    God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour

    As one man more, methinks, would share from me

    For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!

    Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

    Let 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:

    He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

    Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,

    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

    He that shall live this day, and see old age,

    Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

    And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'

    Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.

    And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'

    Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,

    But he'll remember with advantages

    What feats he did that day: then shall our names.

    Familiar in his mouth as household words

    Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,

    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,

    Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.

    This story shall the good man teach his son;

    And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

    From this day to the ending of the world,

    But we in it shall be remember'd;

    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

    For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

    Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

    This day shall gentle his condition:

    And gentlemen in England now a-bed

    Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

 

    Re-enter SALISBURY

 

SALISBURY

 

    My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:

    The French are bravely in their battles set,

    And will with all expedience charge on us.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    All things are ready, if our minds be so.

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    Perish the man whose mind is backward now!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,

    Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;

    Which likes me better than to wish us one.

    You know your places: God be with you all!

 

    Tucket. Enter MONTJOY

 

MONTJOY

 

    Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,

    If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,

    Before thy most assured overthrow:

    For certainly thou art so near the gulf,

    Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,

    The 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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Who hath sent thee now?

 

MONTJOY

 

    The Constable of France.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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?

    The 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:

    And 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 honours reeking up to heaven;

    Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,

    The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.

    Mark then abounding valour in our English,

    That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,

    Break out into a second course of mischief,

    Killing in relapse of mortality.

    Let me speak proudly: tell the constable

    We are but warriors for the working-day;

    Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd

    With rainy marching in the painful field;

    There's not a piece of feather in our host--

    Good 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

    The 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 labour;

    Come 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.

 

MONTJOY

 

    I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:

    Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

 

    Exit

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.

 

    Enter YORK

 

YORK

 

    My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg

    The leading of the vaward.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:

    And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE IV. The field of battle.

 

    Alarum. Excursions. Enter PISTOL, French Soldier, and Boy

 

PISTOL

 

    Yield, cur!

 

French Soldier

 

    Je pense que vous etes gentilhomme de bonne qualite.

 

PISTOL

 

    Qualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman?

    what is thy name? discuss.

 

French Soldier

 

    O Seigneur Dieu!

 

PISTOL

 

    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, thou do give to me

    Egregious ransom.

 

French Soldier

 

    O, prenez misericorde! ayez pitie de moi!

 

PISTOL

 

    Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;

    Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat

    In drops of crimson blood.

 

French Soldier

 

    Est-il impossible d'echapper la force de ton bras?

 

PISTOL

 

    Brass, cur!

    Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,

    Offer'st me brass?

 

French Soldier

 

    O pardonnez moi!

 

PISTOL

 

    Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?

    Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French

    What is his name.

 

Boy

 

    Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?

 

French Soldier

 

    Monsieur le Fer.

 

Boy

 

    He says his name is Master Fer.

 

PISTOL

 

    Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret

    him: discuss the same in French unto him.

 

Boy

 

    I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

 

PISTOL

 

    Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.

 

French Soldier

 

    Que dit-il, monsieur?

 

Boy

 

    Il me commande de vous dire que vous faites vous

    pret; car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette

    heure de couper votre gorge.

 

PISTOL

 

    Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,

    Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;

    Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

 

French Soldier

 

    O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me

    pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison:

    gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents ecus.

 

PISTOL

 

    What are his words?

 

Boy

 

    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.

 

PISTOL

 

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

 

French Soldier

 

    Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

 

Boy

 

    Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner

    aucun prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous

    l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la

    liberte, le franchisement.

 

French Soldier

 

    Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercimens; et

    je m'estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les

    mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave,

    vaillant, et tres distingue seigneur d'Angleterre.

 

PISTOL

 

    Expound unto me, boy.

 

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 signieur of England.

 

PISTOL

 

    As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.

    Follow me!

 

Boy

 

    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 valour than this roaring devil i'

    the old play, that every one may pare his nails with

    a wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so

    would this be, if he durst steal any thing

    adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with

    the luggage of our camp: the French might have a

    good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is

    none to guard it but boys.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE V. Another part of the field.

 

    Enter Constable, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES

 

Constable

 

    O diable!

 

ORLEANS

 

    O seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

 

DAUPHIN

 

    Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all!

    Reproach and everlasting shame

    Sits mocking in our plumes. O merchante fortune!

    Do not run away.

 

    A short alarum

 

Constable

 

    Why, all our ranks are broke.

 

DAUPHIN

 

    O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves.

    Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?

 

ORLEANS

 

    Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?

 

BOURBON

 

    Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame!

    Let us die in honour: 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,

    His fairest daughter is contaminated.

 

Constable

 

    Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!

    Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

 

ORLEANS

 

    We are enow yet living in the field

    To smother up the English in our throngs,

    If any order might be thought upon.

 

BOURBON

 

    The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:

    Let life be short; else shame will be too long.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE VI. Another part of the field.

 

    Alarums. Enter KING HENRY and forces, EXETER, and others

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen:

    But all's not done; yet keep the French the field.

 

EXETER

 

    The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour

    I saw him down; thrice up again and fighting;

    From helmet to the spur all blood he was.

 

EXETER

 

    In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,

    Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,

    Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,

    The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

    Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over,

    Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,

    And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes

    That bloodily did spawn upon his face;

    And cries aloud 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!

    My 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 cheer'd him up:

    He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,

    And, with a feeble gripe, says 'Dear my lord,

    Commend my service to me sovereign.'

    So did he turn and over Suffolk's neck

    He threw his wounded arm and kiss'd his lips;

    And so espoused to death, with blood he seal'd

    A testament of noble-ending love.

    The pretty and sweet manner of it forced

    Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;

    But I had not so much of man in me,

    And all my mother came into mine eyes

    And gave me up to tears.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I blame you not;

    For, hearing this, I must perforce compound

    With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

 

    Alarum

    But, hark! what new alarum is this same?

    The French have reinforced their scatter'd men:

    Then every soldier kill his prisoners:

    Give the word through.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE VII. Another part of the field.

 

    Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly

    against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of

    knavery, mark you now, as can be offer't; in your

    conscience, now, is it not?

 

GOWER

 

    '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 prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a

    gallant king!

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What

    call you the town's name where Alexander the Pig was born!

 

GOWER

 

    Alexander the Great.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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.

 

GOWER

 

    I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon; his

    father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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

    between 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 is

    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 his 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.

 

GOWER

 

    Our king is not like him in that: he never killed

    any of his friends.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    It is not well done, mark you now 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 also 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.

 

GOWER

 

    Sir John Falstaff.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    That is he: I'll tell you there is good men porn at Monmouth.

 

GOWER

 

    Here comes his majesty.

 

    Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, and forces; WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, EXETER, and others

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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:

    If they'll do neither, we will come to them,

    And make them skirr away, as swift as stones

    Enforced 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

    Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

 

    Enter MONTJOY

 

EXETER

 

    Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

 

GLOUCESTER

 

    His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    How now! what means this, herald? know'st thou not

    That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?

    Comest thou again for ransom?

 

MONTJOY

 

    No, great king:

    I come to thee for charitable licence,

    That we may wander o'er this bloody field

    To look our dead, and then to bury them;

    To sort our nobles from our common men.

    For many of our princes--woe the while!--

    Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;

    So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs

    In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds

    Fret fetlock deep in gore and with wild rage

    Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,

    Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,

    To view the field in safety and dispose

    Of their dead bodies!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I tell thee truly, herald,

    I know not if the day be ours or no;

    For yet a many of your horsemen peer

    And gallop o'er the field.

 

MONTJOY

 

    The day is yours.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!

    What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?

 

MONTJOY

 

    They call it Agincourt.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then call we this the field of Agincourt,

    Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 a most prave pattle here in France.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    They did, Fluellen.

 

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

    Monmouth caps; which, your majesty know, to this

    hour is an honourable badge of the service; and I do

    believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek

    upon Saint Tavy's day.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I wear it for a memorable honour;

    For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Thanks, good my countryman.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    God keep me so! Our heralds go with him:

    Bring me just notice of the numbers dead

    On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.

 

    Points to WILLIAMS. Exeunt Heralds with Montjoy

 

EXETER

 

    Soldier, you must come to the king.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Soldier, why wearest thou that glove in thy cap?

 

WILLIAMS

 

    An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one that

    I should fight withal, if he be alive.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    An Englishman?

 

WILLIAMS

 

    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 swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear

    if alive, I will strike it out soundly.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What think you, Captain Fluellen? is it fit this

    soldier keep his oath?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your

    majesty, in my conscience.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort,

    quite from the answer of his degree.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, as

    Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look

    your 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 Jacksauce, as ever his black

    shoe trod upon God's ground and his earth, in my

    conscience, la!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meetest the fellow.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    So I will, my liege, as I live.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Who servest thou under?

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Under Captain Gower, my liege.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and

    literatured in the wars.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Call him hither to me, soldier.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    I will, my liege.

 

    Exit

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me and

    stick it in thy cap: when Alencon and myself were

    down together, I plucked this glove from his helm:

    if any man challenge this, he is a friend to

    Alencon, and an enemy to our person; if thou

    encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Your grace doo's me as great honours as can be

    desired in the hearts of his subjects: I would fain

    see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find

    himself aggrieved at this glove; that is all; but I

    would fain see it once, an please God of his grace

    that I might see.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Knowest thou Gower?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    He is my dear friend, an please you.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    I will fetch him.

 

    Exit

 

KING HENRY V

 

    My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloucester,

    Follow Fluellen closely at the heels:

    The glove which I have given him for a favour

    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:

    If 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,

    And quickly will return an injury:

    Follow and see there be no harm between them.

    Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE VIII. Before KING HENRY'S pavilion.

 

    Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS

 

WILLIAMS

 

    I warrant it is to knight you, captain.

 

    Enter FLUELLEN

 

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.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Sir, know you this glove?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Know the glove! I know the glove is glove.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    I know this; and thus I challenge it.

 

    Strikes him

 

FLUELLEN

 

    'Sblood! an arrant traitor as any is in the

    universal world, or in France, or in England!

 

GOWER

 

    How now, sir! you villain!

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Do you think I'll be forsworn?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give treason his

    payment into ploughs, I warrant you.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    I am no traitor.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    That's a lie in thy throat. I charge you in his

    majesty's name, apprehend him: he's a friend of the

    Duke Alencon's.

 

    Enter WARWICK and GLOUCESTER

 

WARWICK

 

    How now, how now! what's the matter?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 HENRY and EXETER

 

KING HENRY V

 

    How now! what's the matter?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 Alencon.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    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.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 Alencon, that your majesty is

    give me; in your conscience, now?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Give me thy glove, soldier: look, here is the

    fellow of it.

    'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike;

    And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it,

    if there is any martial law in the world.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    How canst thou make me satisfaction?

 

WILLIAMS

 

    All offences, my lord, come from the heart: never

    came any from mine that might offend your majesty.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    It was ourself thou didst abuse.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to

    me but as a common man; witness the night, your

    garments, your lowliness; and what your 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 offence; therefore, I

    beseech your highness, pardon me.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,

    And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;

    And wear it for an honour in thy cap

    Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns:

    And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle

    enough in his belly. Hold, there is twelve pence

    for you; and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you

    out of prawls, and prabbles' and quarrels, and

    dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.

 

WILLIAMS

 

    I will none of your money.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 an English Herald

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Now, herald, are the dead number'd?

 

Herald

 

    Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?

 

EXETER

 

    Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;

    John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt:

    Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,

    Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    This note doth tell me of ten thousand French

    That 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,

    Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd 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.

    The names of those their nobles that lie dead:

    Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;

    Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;

    The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;

    Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin,

    John Duke of Alencon, Anthony Duke of Brabant,

    The brother of the Duke of Burgundy,

    And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,

    Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,

    Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.

    Here was a royal fellowship of death!

    Where is the number of our English dead?

 

    Herald shews him another paper

    Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,

    Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire:

    None else of name; and of all other men

    But 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,

    Was ever known so great and little loss

    On one part and on the other? Take it, God,

    For it is none but thine!

 

EXETER

 

    'Tis wonderful!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Come, go we in procession to the village.

    And be it death proclaimed through our host

    To boast of this or take the praise from God

    Which is his only.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell

    how many is killed?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,

    That God fought for us.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Do we all holy rites;

    Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum;'

    The dead with charity enclosed in clay:

    And then to Calais; and to England then:

    Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men.

 

    Exeunt

 


ACT V

PROLOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

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 the excuse

    Of time, of numbers and due course of things,

    Which 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 winged thoughts

    Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach

    Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys,

    Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep mouth'd 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.

    So swift a pace hath thought that even now

    You may imagine him upon Blackheath;

    Where that his lords desire him to have borne

    His bruised helmet and his bended sword

    Before him through the city: he forbids it,

    Being 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!

    The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,

    Like to the senators of the antique Rome,

    With the plebeians swarming at their heels,

    Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in:

    As, by a lower but loving likelihood,

    Were now the general of our gracious empress,

    As in good time he may, from Ireland coming,

    Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,

    How many would the peaceful city quit,

    To welcome him! much more, and much more cause,

    Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;

    As yet the lamentation of the French

    Invites the King of England's stay at home;

    The emperor's coming in behalf of France,

    To order peace between them; and omit

    All the occurrences, whatever chanced,

    Till Harry's back-return again to France:

    There must we bring him; and myself have play'd

    The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.

    Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance,

    After your thoughts, straight back again to France.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE I. France. The English camp.

 

    Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER

 

GOWER

 

    Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today?

    Saint Davy's day is past.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in

    all things: I will tell you, asse 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 merits, he is

    come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday,

    look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in 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

    piece of my desires.

 

    Enter PISTOL

 

GOWER

 

    Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his

    turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you

    scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!

 

PISTOL

 

    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.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 digestions doo's not agree with it, I would

    desire you to eat it.

 

PISTOL

 

    Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    There is one goat for you.

 

    Strikes him

    Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?

 

PISTOL

 

    Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    You say very true, scauld knave, when God's will is:

    I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat

    your victuals: come, there is sauce for it.

 

    Strikes him

    You called me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will

    make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you,

    fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

 

GOWER

 

    Enough, captain: you have astonished him.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    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 coxcomb.

 

PISTOL

 

    Must I bite?

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question

    too, and ambiguities.

 

PISTOL

 

    By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat

    and eat, I swear--

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to

    your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

 

PISTOL

 

    Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray

    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.

 

PISTOL

 

    Good.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is a groat to

    heal your pate.

 

PISTOL

 

    Me a groat!

 

FLUELLEN

 

    Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I

    have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

 

PISTOL

 

    I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

 

FLUELLEN

 

    If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels:

    you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but

    cudgels. God b' wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

 

    Exit

 

PISTOL

 

    All hell shall stir for this.

 

GOWER

 

    Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will

    you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an

    honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of

    predeceased valour and dare not avouch in your deeds

    any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and

    galling at 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.

 

    Exit

 

PISTOL

 

    Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?

    News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital

    Of malady of France;

    And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.

    Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs

    Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I'll turn,

    And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.

    To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:

    And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars,

    And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.

 

    Exit

 


SCENE II. France. A royal palace.

 

    Enter, at one door KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other Lords; at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the PRINCESS KATHARINE, ALICE and other Ladies; the DUKE of BURGUNDY, and his train

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!

    Unto our brother France, and to our sister,

    Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes

    To our most fair and princely cousin Katharine;

    And, as a branch and member of this royalty,

    By whom this great assembly is contrived,

    We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy;

    And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    Right joyous are we to behold your face,

    Most worthy brother England; fairly met:

    So are you, princes English, every one.

 

QUEEN ISABEL

 

    So happy be the issue, brother England,

    Of 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:

    The 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 V

 

    To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

 

QUEEN ISABEL

 

    You English princes all, I do salute you.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    My duty to you both, on equal love,

    Great Kings of France and England! That I have labour'd,

    With all my wits, my pains and strong endeavours,

    To bring your most imperial majesties

    Unto this bar and royal interview,

    Your mightiness on both parts best can witness.

    Since then my office hath so far prevail'd

    That, face to face and royal eye to eye,

    You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me,

    If I demand, before this royal view,

    What rub or what impediment there is,

    Why that the naked, poor and mangled Peace,

    Dear nurse of arts and joyful births,

    Should not in this best garden of the world

    Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?

    Alas, she hath from France too long been chased,

    And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,

    Corrupting in its own fertility.

    Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,

    Unpruned dies; her hedges even-pleach'd,

    Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,

    Put forth disorder'd twigs; her fallow leas

    The darnel, hemlock and rank fumitory

    Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts

    That should deracinate such savagery;

    The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth

    The freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover,

    Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,

    Conceives by idleness and nothing teems

    But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,

    Losing both beauty and utility.

    And as 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,

    The 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 every thing that seems unnatural.

    Which to reduce into our former favour

    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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace,

    Whose want gives growth to the imperfections

    Which you have cited, you must buy that peace

    With full accord to all our just demands;

    Whose tenors and particular effects

    You have enscheduled briefly in your hands.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    The king hath heard them; to the which as yet

    There is no answer made.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Well then the peace,

    Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.

 

KING OF FRANCE

 

    I have but with a cursorary 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

    Pass our accept and peremptory answer.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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,

    Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best

    Shall see advantageable for our dignity,

    Any thing in or out of our demands,

    And we'll consign thereto. Will you, fair sister,

    Go with the princes, or stay here with us?

 

QUEEN ISABEL

 

    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 V

 

    Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us:

    She is our capital demand, comprised

    Within the fore-rank of our articles.

 

QUEEN ISABEL

 

    She hath good leave.

 

    Exeunt all except HENRY, KATHARINE, and ALICE

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Fair Katharine, and most fair,

    Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms

    Such as will enter at a lady's ear

    And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with

    your French heart, I will be glad to hear you

    confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do

    you like me, Kate?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is 'like me.'

 

KING HENRY V

 

    An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Que dit-il? que je suis semblable a les anges?

 

ALICE

 

    Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to

    affirm it.

 

KATHARINE

 

    O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de

    tromperies.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men

    are full of deceits?

 

ALICE

 

    Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of

    deceits: dat is de princess.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 thou 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 bargain: how say you, lady?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Sauf votre honneur, me understand vell.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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

    have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable

    measure in strength. If I could win a lady at

    leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my

    armour 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 love, or bound my horse

    for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher and

    sit like a jack-an-apes, 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,

    nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a

    fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth

    sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love

    of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be thy

    cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst

    love me for this, take 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

    livest, 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 these fellows of infinite tongue, that

    can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, 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 grow

    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; and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier,

    take a king. And what sayest thou then to my love?

    speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 is France and you are mine.

 

KATHARINE

 

    I cannot tell vat is dat.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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. Je 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 votre est

    France et vous etes 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 French,

    unless it be to laugh at me.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Sauf votre honneur, le Francois que vous parlez, il

    est meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    No, faith, is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of my

    tongue, and I thine, most truly-falsely, must needs

    be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou

    understand thus much English, canst thou love me?

 

KATHARINE

 

    I cannot tell.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask

    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, gentle 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 George, compound a

    boy, half French, half English, that shall go to

    Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard?

    shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair

    flower-de-luce?

 

KATHARINE

 

    I do not know dat

 

KING HENRY V

 

    No; 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: do

    but now promise, Kate, you will endeavour 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 Katharine du monde, mon tres cher

    et devin deesse?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Your majestee ave fausse French enough to deceive de

    most sage demoiselle dat is en France.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in

    true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I

    dare not 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

    stubborn 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 the worst; and thou

    shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better:

    and therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, 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 England 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 Harry

    Plantagenet is thine;' who though I speak it before

    his face, if he be not fellow with the best king,

    thou shalt find 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, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken

    English; wilt thou have me?

 

KATHARINE

 

    Dat is as it sall please de roi mon pere.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Nay, it will please him well, Kate it shall please

    him, Kate.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Den it sall also content me.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foi, je

    ne veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en

    baisant la main d'une de votre seigeurie indigne

    serviteur; excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon

    tres-puissant seigneur.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

 

KATHARINE

 

    Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant

    leur noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Madam my interpreter, what says she?

 

ALICE

 

    Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of

    France,--I cannot tell vat is baiser en Anglish.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    To kiss.

 

ALICE

 

    Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss

    before they are married, would she say?

 

ALICE

 

    Oui, vraiment.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    O 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 our

    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.

 

    Kissing her

    You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is

    more eloquence in a sugar touch of them 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.

 

    Re-enter the FRENCH KING and his QUEEN, BURGUNDY, and other Lords

 

BURGUNDY

 

    God save your majesty! my royal cousin, teach you

    our princess English?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how

    perfectly I love her; and that is good English.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    Is she not apt?

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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 likeness.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    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

    blame 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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    They are then excused, my lord, when they see not

    what they do.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent winking.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    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 they will endure handling, which

    before would not abide looking on.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

BURGUNDY

 

    As love is, my lord, before it loves.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

FRENCH KING

 

    Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities

    turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with

    maiden walls that war hath never entered.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Shall Kate be my wife?

 

FRENCH KING

 

    So please you.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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.

 

FRENCH KING

 

    We have consented to all terms of reason.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Is't so, my lords of England?

 

WESTMORELAND

 

    The king hath granted every article:

    His daughter first, and then in sequel all,

    According to their firm proposed natures.

 

EXETER

 

    Only he hath not yet subscribed 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

    addition in French, Notre trescher fils Henri, Roi

    d'Angleterre, Heritier de France; and thus in

    Latin, Praeclarissimus 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.

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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

    Of France and England, whose very shores look pale

    With envy of each other's happiness,

    May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction

    Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord

    In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance

    His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.

 

ALL

 

    Amen!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    Now, welcome, Kate: and bear me witness all,

    That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.

 

    Flourish

 

QUEEN ISABEL

 

    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,

    Which troubles oft the bed of blessed 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!

 

ALL

 

    Amen!

 

KING HENRY V

 

    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;

    And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!

 

    Sennet. Exeunt

    EPILOGUE

 

    Enter Chorus

 

Chorus

 

    Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,

    Our bending author hath pursued the story,

    In 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 be achieved,

    And of it left his son imperial lord.

    Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King

    Of France and England, did this king succeed;

    Whose state so many had the managing,

    That they lost France and made his England bleed:

    Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake,

    In your fair minds let this acceptance take.

 

    Exit

 

 

THE END