SCENE V. Another part of the field of battle

Zainab Irfan

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SCENE V. Another part of the field of battle

Enter CONSTABLE, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES

CONSTABLE. O diable!

ORLEANS. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

DAUPHIN. Mort Dieu, ma vie! all is confounded, all!

Reproach and everlasting shame

Sits mocking in our plumes. [A short alarum]

O mechante fortune! Do not run away.

CONSTABLE. Why, an 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 gender 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

Alarum. Enter the KING and his train, with prisoners; EXETER, and others

KING HENRY. 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. 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 insteeped,

And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes

That bloodily did yawn upon his face,

He cries aloud 'Tarry, my 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 smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,

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

Commend my service to my sovereign.'

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

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

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

A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd

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. 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 reinforc'd 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 offert; 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 caus'd 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 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

call'd 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 kill'd any of his

friends.

FLUELLEN. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out

of my mouth ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the

figures and comparisons of it; as Alexander kill'd his friend

Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth,

being in his right wits and his good judgments, turn'd 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 the KING, WARWICK, GLOUCESTER,

EXETER, and others, with prisoners. Flourish

KING HENRY. I was not angry since I came to France

Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald,

Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond 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 us'd to be.

KING HENRY. How now! What means this, herald? know'st thou not

That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?

Com'st 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 book our dead, and then to bury them;

To sort our nobles from our common men;

For many of our princes- woe the while!-

Lie 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. 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. 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. 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. They did, Fluellen.

FLUELLEN. Your Majesty says very true; if your Majesties is

rememb'red of it, the Welshmen did good service in 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. 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. Got pless it and

preserve it as long as it pleases his Grace and his Majesty too!

KING HENRY. Thanks, good my countryman.

FLUELLEN. By Jeshu, I am your Majesty's countryman, care not who

know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld: I need not be

asham'd of your Majesty, praised be Got, so long as your Majesty

is an honest man.

Enter WILLIAMS

KING HENRY. 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.

Exeunt heralds with MONTJOY

EXETER. Soldier, you must come to the King.

KING HENRY. Soldier, why wear'st 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. An Englishman?

WILLIAMS. An't please your Majesty, a rascal that swagger'd with me

last night; who, if 'a live 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. 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. It may be his enemy is a gentlemen of great sort, quite

from the answer of his degree.

FLUELLEN. Though he be as good a gentleman as the Devil is, as

Lucifier and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your Grace,

that he keep his vow and his oath; if he be perjur'd, 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. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the

fellow.

WILLIAMS. So I Will, my liege, as I live.

KING HENRY. Who serv'st 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. Call him hither to me, soldier.

WILLIAMS. I will, my liege. Exit

KING HENRY. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and stick

it in thy cap; when Alencon and myself were down together, I

pluck'd 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 does me as great honours as can be desir'd in

the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that has but

two legs that shall find himself aggrief'd at this glove, that is

all; but I would fain see it once, an please God of his grace

that I might see.

KING HENRY. Know'st thou Gower?

FLUELLEN. He is my dear friend, an please you.

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

FLUELLEN. I will fetch him. Exit

KING HENRY. 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 touch'd 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 a glove.

WILLIAMS. I know this; and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him]

FLUELLEN. 'Sblood, an arrant traitor as any's 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 plows, 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 the KING and EXETER

KING HENRY. 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 promis'd to wear it in his

cap; I promis'd 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. 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. 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. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

WILLIAMS. Your Majesty came not like yourself: you appear'd to me

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

lowliness; and what your Highness suffer'd 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. 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 God, 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. Now, herald, are the dead numb'red?

HERALD. Here is the number of the slaught'red French.

[Gives a paper]

KING HENRY. 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. 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; Antony Duke of Brabant,

The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;

And Edward Duke of Bar. Of lusty earls,

Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconbridge and Foix,

Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrake.

Here was a royal fellowship of death!

Where is the number of our English dead?

[HERALD presents another paper]

Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,

Sir Richard Kikely, 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 los

On one part and on th' other? Take it, God,

For it is none but thine.

EXETER. 'Tis wonderful!

KING HENRY. Come, go we in procession to the village;

And be it death proclaimed through our host

To boast of this or take that praise from God

Which is his only.

FLUELLEN. Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how

many is kill'd?

KING HENRY. Yes, Captain; but with this acknowledgment,

That God fought for us.

FLUELLEN. Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.

KING HENRY. Do we all holy rites:

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

The dead with charity enclos'd in clay-

And then to Calais; and to England then;

Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men. Exeunt

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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 th' 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 th' antique Rome,

With the plebeians swarming at their heels-

Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring 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 chanc'd,

Till Harry's back-return again to France.

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

The interim, by rememb'ring 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 to-day? Saint

Davy's day is past.

FLUELLEN. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all

things. I will tell you, ass my friend, Captain Gower: the

rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol- which

you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a

fellow, look you now, of no merits- he is come to me, and prings

me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek; it

was in a place where I could not breed no contendon 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 Troyan,

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, does 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, scald knave, as eat it?

PISTOL. Base Troyan, thou shalt die.

FLUELLEN. You say very true, scald knave- when God's will is. I

will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals;

come, there is sauce for it. [Striking him again] You call'd 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 astonish'd 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 ambiguides.

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, scald 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 anything I will pay you in cudgels; you

shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God bye

you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

Exit

PISTOL. All hell shall stir for this.

GOWER. Go, go: you are a couterfeit 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' th' spital

Of malady of France;

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.

Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs

Honour is cudgell'd. 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. The FRENCH KING'S palace

Enter at one door, KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other LORDS; at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the PRINCESS KATHERINE, ALICE, and other LADIES; the DUKE OF BURGUNDY, and his train

KING HENRY. 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 Katherine.

And, as a branch and member of this royalty,

By whom this great assembly is contriv'd,

We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy.

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

FRENCH KING. Right joyous are we to behold your face,

Most worthy brother England; fairly met!

So are you, princes English, every one.

QUEEN 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 home 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. To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

QUEEN ISABEL. You English princes an, 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, plenties, 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 chas'd!

And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,

Corrupting in it 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, diffus'd attire,

And everything that seems unnatural.

Which to reduce into our former favout

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. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace

Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections

Which you have cited, you must buy that peace

With full accord to all our just demands;

Whose tenours and particular effects

You have, enschedul'd briefly, in your hands.

BURGUNDY. The King hath heard them; to the which as yet

There is no answer made.

KING HENRY. Well then, the peace,

Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer.

FRENCH KING. 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. Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter,

And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester,

Warwick, and Huntington, 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 urg'd be stood on.

KING HENRY. Yet leave our cousin Katherine here with us;

She is our capital demand, compris'd

Within the fore-rank of our articles.

QUEEN ISABEL. She hath good leave.

Exeunt all but the KING, KATHERINE, and ALICE

KING HENRY. Fair Katherine, 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?

KATHERINE. Your Majesty shall mock me; I cannot speak your England.

KING HENRY. O fair Katherine, 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?

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

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

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

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

KING HENRY. I said so, dear Katherine, and I must not blush to

affirm it.

KATHERINE. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de

tromperies.

KING HENRY. 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. The Princess is the better English-woman. 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?

KATHERINE. Sauf votre honneur, me understand well.

KING HENRY. Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for

your sake, Kate, why you undid me; for the one I have neither

words nor measure, and for the other I 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 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 cloquence, nor I have no

cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use

till urg'd, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a

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

that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there,

let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier. If thou

canst love me for this, 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 liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of

plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right,

because he hath not the gift to woo in other places; for 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 curl'd 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 say'st thou, then,

to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

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

KING HENRY. No, it is not possible you should love the enemy of

France, Kate, but in loving me you should love the friend of

France; for I love France so well that I will not part with a

village of it; I will have it all mine. And, Kate, when France is

mine and I am yours, then yours is France and you are mine.

KATHERINE. I cannot tell vat is dat.

KING HENRY. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am sure

will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her

husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. 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.

KATHERINE. Sauf votre honneur, le Francais que vous parlez, il est

meilleur que l'Anglais lequel je parle.

KING HENRY. No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking of my

tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to

be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much

English- Canst thou love me?

KATHERINE. I cannot tell.

KING HENRY. 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 say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce?

KATHERINE. I do not know dat.

KING HENRY. 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 Katherine du monde, mon

tres cher et divin deesse?

KATHERINE. Your Majestee ave fausse French enough to deceive de

most sage damoiselle dat is en France.

KING HENRY. 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 in 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 Katherine, 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 Henry 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, Katherine,

break thy mind to me in broken English, wilt thou have me?

KATHERINE. Dat is as it shall please de roi mon pere.

KING HENRY. Nay, it will please him well, Kate- it shall please

him, Kate.

KATHERINE. Den it sall also content me.

KING HENRY. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I can you my queen.

KATHERINE. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez! Ma foi, je ne

veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en baisant la main

d'une, notre seigneur, indigne serviteur; excusez-moi, je vous

supplie, mon tres puissant seigneur.

KING HENRY. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

KATHERINE. Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant leur

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

KING HENRY. Madame my interpreter, what says she?

ALICE. Dat it is not be de fashion pour le ladies of France- I

cannot tell vat is baiser en Anglish.

KING HENRY. To kiss.

ALICE. Your Majestee entendre bettre que moi.

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

before they are married, would she say?

ALICE. Oui, vraiment.

KING HENRY. O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate,

you and I cannot be confin'd 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 Henry of England

than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.

Enter the FRENCH POWER and the ENGLISH LORDS

BURGUNDY. God save your Majesty! My royal cousin,

Teach you our princess English?

KING HENRY. I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I

love her; and that is good English.

BURGUNDY. Is she not apt?

KING HENRY. Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not

smooth; so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of

flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in

her that he will appear in his true 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 ros'd 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. Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and

enforces.

BURGUNDY. They are then excus'd, my lord, when they see not what

they do.

KING HENRY. 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 summer'd 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. 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. 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 ent'red.

KING HENRY. Shall Kate be my wife?

FRENCH KING. So please you.

KING HENRY. I am content, so the maiden cities you talk of may wait

on her; so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show

me the way to my will.

FRENCH KING. We have consented to all terms of reason.

KING HENRY. 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 tres cher

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 our request shall make me let it pass.

KING HENRY. I pray you, then, in love and dear alliance,

Let that one article rank with the rest;

And thereupon give me your daughter.

FRENCH KING. Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up

Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms

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.

LORDS. Amen!

KING HENRY. Now, welcome, Kate; and bear me witness all,

That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen. [Floulish]

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. 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 prosp'rous be!

Sennet. Exeunt

EPILOGUE EPILOGUE.

Enter CHORUS

CHORUS. Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,

Our bending author hath pursu'd 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 he 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

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1592

THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH

by William Shakespeare

Dramatis Personae

KING HENRY THE SIXTH

DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to the King, and Protector

DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent of France

THOMAS BEAUFORT, DUKE OF EXETER, great-uncle to the king

HENRY BEAUFORT, great-uncle to the King, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER,

and afterwards CARDINAL

JOHN BEAUFORT, EARL OF SOMERSET, afterwards Duke

RICHARD PLANTAGENET, son of Richard late Earl of Cambridge,

afterwards DUKE OF YORK

EARL OF WARWICK

EARL OF SALISBURY

EARL OF SUFFOLK

LORD TALBOT, afterwards EARL OF SHREWSBURY

JOHN TALBOT, his son

EDMUND MORTIMER, EARL OF MARCH

SIR JOHN FASTOLFE

SIR WILLIAM LUCY

SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE

SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE

MAYOR of LONDON

WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower

VERNON, of the White Rose or York faction

BASSET, of the Red Rose or Lancaster faction

A LAWYER

GAOLERS, to Mortimer

CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France

REIGNIER, DUKE OF ANJOU, and titular King of Naples

DUKE OF BURGUNDY

DUKE OF ALENCON

BASTARD OF ORLEANS

GOVERNOR OF PARIS

MASTER-GUNNER OF ORLEANS, and his SON

GENERAL OF THE FRENCH FORCES in Bordeaux

A FRENCH SERGEANT

A PORTER

AN OLD SHEPHERD, father to Joan la Pucelle

MARGARET, daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to

King Henry

COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE

JOAN LA PUCELLE, Commonly called JOAN OF ARC

Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers,

Messengers, English and French Attendants. Fiends appearing

to La Pucelle

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SCENE: England and France

The First Part of King Henry the Sixth

ACT I. SCENE 1.

Westminster Abbey

Dead March. Enter the funeral of KING HENRY THE FIFTH, attended on by the DUKE OF BEDFORD, Regent of France, the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, Protector, the DUKE OF EXETER, the EARL OF WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER

BEDFORD. Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to

night! Comets, importing change of times and states,

Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky

And with them scourge the bad revolting stars

That have consented unto Henry's death!

King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!

England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

GLOUCESTER. England ne'er had a king until his time.

Virtue he had, deserving to command;

His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams;

His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;

His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,

More dazzled and drove back his enemies

Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.

What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech:

He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

EXETER. We mourn in black; why mourn we not in blood?

Henry is dead and never shall revive.

Upon a wooden coffin we attend;

And death's dishonourable victory

We with our stately presence glorify,

Like captives bound to a triumphant car.

What! shall we curse the planets of mishap

That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?

Or shall we think the subtle-witted French

Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,

By magic verses have contriv'd his end?

WINCHESTER. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings;

Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day

So dreadful will not be as was his sight.

The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought;

The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.

GLOUCESTER. The Church! Where is it? Had not churchmen

pray'd,

His thread of life had not so soon decay'd.

None do you like but an effeminate prince,

Whom like a school-boy you may overawe.

WINCHESTER. Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art

Protector

And lookest to command the Prince and realm.

Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe

More than God or religious churchmen may.

GLOUCESTER. Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh;

And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,

Except it be to pray against thy foes.

BEDFORD. Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace;

Let's to the altar. Heralds, wait on us.

Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms,

Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.

Posterity, await for wretched years,

When at their mothers' moist'ned eyes babes shall suck,

Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,

And none but women left to wail the dead.

HENRY the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:

Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,

Combat with adverse planets in the heavens.

A far more glorious star thy soul will make

Than Julius Caesar or bright

Enter a MESSENGER

MESSENGER. My honourable lords, health to you all!

Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:

Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,

Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

BEDFORD. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?

Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns

Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.

GLOUCESTER. Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?

If Henry were recall'd to life again,

These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

EXETER. How were they lost? What treachery was us'd?

MESSENGER. No treachery, but want of men and money.

Amongst the soldiers this is muttered

That here you maintain several factions;

And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,

You are disputing of your generals:

One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost;

Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;

A third thinks, without expense at all,

By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.

Awake, awake, English nobility!

Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot.

Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;

Of England's coat one half is cut away.

EXETER. Were our tears wanting to this funeral,

These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.

BEDFORD. Me they concern; Regent I am of France.

Give me my steeled coat; I'll fight for France.

Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,

To weep their intermissive miseries.

Enter a second MESSENGER

SECOND MESSENGER. Lords, view these letters full of bad

mischance.

France is revolted from the English quite,

Except some petty towns of no import.

The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;

The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;

Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;

The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.

EXETER. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

GLOUCESTER. We will not fly but to our enemies' throats.

Bedford, if thou be slack I'll fight it out.

BEDFORD. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?

An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,

Wherewith already France is overrun.