Gower.

Nay, that's right: but why wear you your leek, to-day? St. David's day is past.

Flu.

There is occasions and causes why and wherefore,

in all things. I will tell you as a friend, Captain Gower; the rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you, and yourself, and all the 'orld 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 leak; it was in a place where I could breed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold 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.

Gow.

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

Flu.

'Tis no matter for his swelling, nor his turky-cocks; God plesse you, aunchient Pistol; you scurvy, lowsy knave, God plesse you.

Pist.
Ha! art thou beldam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parcas' fatal web?
Hence, I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu.

I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek, because, look you, you do not love it, and your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions do not agree with it; I would desire you to eat it.

Pist.

Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.

Flu.
There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.
Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?

Pist.

Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu.

You say very true, scald knave, when Heav'n's will is: I will desire you to live, in the mean time, and eat your victuals; come, there is sawce for it— [Strikes him.] 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.

Gow.

Enough, captain, you have astonish'd him.

Flu.

I say I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days and four nights. Pite, I pray you, it is good for you green wound, and your ploody coxcomb.

Pist.

Must I bite?

Flu.

Yes, out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities.

Pist.

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat and swear—

Flu.

Eat, I pray you; will you have some more sawce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist.

Quiet thy cudgel, thou dost see I eat.

Flu.

Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the skin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take occasion to see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at 'em, that's all.

Pist.

Good.

Flu.

Ay, leeks is good; hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist.

Me a groat?

Flu.

Yes, verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

Pist.

I take thy groat, in earnest of revenge.

Flu.

If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels, you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels; Heav'n pe with you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

Pist.

All hell shall stir, for this.

Gow.

Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at an ancient tradition, began 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 you well.

Pist.
Doth fortune play the housewife with me, now?
Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs,
Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd will I turn,
And something lean to cut-purse of quick hand,
To England will I steal,
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. [Exit. Enter at one Door, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, and other Lords; at another, the French King, Queen Isabel, Princess Katharine, the Duke of Burgundy, and other French Lords.

K. 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 Katharine;
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.

Fr. King.
Right joyous are we to behold your face.
Most worthy brother England, fairly met,
So are you, princes English, every one.

Q. Isab.
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.

K. Henry.
To cry amen to that thus we appear.

Q. Isab.
You English princes all, I do salute you.

Bur.
My duty to you both, on equal love;
Great Kings of France and England. That I've labour'd,

With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavours,
To bring your most imperial majesties
Unto this bar, and royal interview,
Your mightinesses, on both parts 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?* ^note

K. 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 tenures, and particular effects,
You have enschedul'd briefly in your hands.

Burg.
The king hath heard them; to the which, as yet
There is no answer made.

K. Henry.
Well then, the peace,
Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer.

Fr. King.
I have but with a cursorary eye
O'er-glanc'd the articles. Pleaseth your grace
T' appoint some of your council, presently,
To sit with us, once more, with better heed,
To re-survey them; we will suddenly
Pass, or accept, and peremptory answer.

K. Henry.
Brother, we shall.
My good lords, go with the king;
And take with you free pow'r to ratify,
Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best

Shall see advantage for our dignity,
And we'll consign thereto. Will you, fair sister,
Go with the princes, or stay here with us?

Q. Isa.
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.

K. Henry.
Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us,
She is our capital demand, compris'd
Within the fore-rank of our articles.

Q. Isa.
She hath good leave. [Exeunt. Manent King Henry, and Katharine.

K. Henry.
Fair Katharine, 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?

Kath.

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

K. Henry.

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?

Kath.

Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vat is like me.

K. Henry.

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

Lady.

De tongues of de mans is be full of deceits.

K. Henry.

I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad thou canst speak no better English, for if thou could'st, thou would'st find me such a plain king, that thou would'st 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. How say you, lady?

Kath.

Sauf vostre honneur, me understand well.

K. Henry.

Marry, if you would put me to verses, or to dance, for your sake, Kate, why you undid me.

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. I speak 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 whilst thou liv'st, Kate, take a fellow of a plain, and uncoined constancy; for a good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop; 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 its course truly. If thou would'st have such a one, take me; take a soldier; take a king.

Kath.

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

K. Henry.

No, it is not possible that you should love the enemy of France, Kate; but in loving me, you would 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. But Kate, dost thou understand thus much English; canst thou love me?

Kate.

I cannot tell.

K. Henry.

Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? Come, I know thou lovest me; and at night, when you come into your closet, you'll dispraise those parts in me, that you love with your heart. If ever thou beest mine, Kate, (as I have 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 St. Dennis and St. 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?* ^note

Kath.

I do not know dat; but I know your majeste ave fause Frenche enough to deceive the most sage damoisel dat is en France.

K. Henry.

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. Wilt thou have me?

Kath.

Dat is as it shall please le roy mon pere.

K. Henry.

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

Kath.

Den it shall also content me.

K. Henry.

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

Kath.

Dat is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France, to kiss before marriage.

K. Henry.

O, Kate, nice customs curt'sy to great kings. Therefore, patiently, and yielding. [Kissing her.] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in a 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.