ACT I. SCENE I. An Antechamber in the English Court, at Kenilworth. Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.

^{2 note}Archbishop of Canterbury.
My lord, I'll tell you—That self bill is urg'd,
Which, in th' eleventh year o' th' last King's reign,
Was like, and had, indeed against us past,
But that the scambling and unquiet time
Did push it out of further question.

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

Cant.
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 valu'd 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 alm-houses, right well supply'd;
And to the coffers of the King, beside,
A thousand pounds by th' year. Thus runs the bill.

Ely.
This would drink deep.

Cant.
'Twould drink the cup and all.

Ely.
But what prevention?

Cant.
The King is full of grace and fair regard.

Ely.
And a true lover of the holy Church.

Cant.
The courses of his youth promis'd it not.
The breath no sooner left his father's body,
But that his wildness, mortify'd in him,
Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment,
* ^noteConsideration, like an angel, came,
And whipt th' offending Adam out of him;
Leaving his Body as a Paradise,
T' invelope and contain celestial spirits.
Never was such a sudden scholar made,
Never came reformation in a flood^{3 note}
With such a heady current, scow'ring faults;
Nor ever Hydra-headed wilfulness

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
As in this King.

Ely.
We're blessed in the change.

Cant.
Hear him but reason in divinity,^{4 note}

So that the Art, and practic part of life,^{6 note}

Ely.
The Strawberry grows underneath the nettle,
And wholesom berries thrive, and ripen best,
Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
And so the Prince obscur'd his contemplation
Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.^{7 note}

Cant.
It must be so; for miracles are ceas'd:
And therefore we must needs admit the means,
How things are perfected.

Ely.
But, my good Lord,
How now for mitigation of this bill,
Urg'd by the Commons? doth his Majesty
Incline to it, or no?

Cant.
He seems indifferent;
Or rather swaying more upon our part,
Than cherishing th' 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 receiv'd, my Lord?

Cant.
With good acceptance of his Majesty;
Save that there was not time enough to hear
As, I perceiv'd, his Grace would fain have done
The severals, and unhidden passages^{8 note}
Of his true titles to some certain Dukedoms,
And, generally, to the Crown and seat of France,
Deriv'd from Edward his great grandfather.

Ely.
What was th' impediment, that broke this off?

Cant.
The French Ambassador upon that instant
Crav'd audience; and the hour, I think, is come
To give him hearing. Is it four o'clock?

Ely.
It is.

Cant.
Then go we in to know his embassy;
Which I could with a ready guess declare,
Before the Frenchman speaks a word of it.

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

SCENE II. Opens to the Presence. Enter King Henry, Gloucester, Bedford, Clarence, Warwick, Westmorland, and Exeter.

K. Henry.
Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

Exe.
Not here in presence.

K. Henry.
Send for him, good uncle.

West.
Shall we call in th' ambassador, my Liege?^{9 note}

K. Henry.
Not yet, my cousin; we would be resolv'd,
Before we hear him, of some things of weight,
That * ^notetask our thoughts, concerning us and France. Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.

Cant.
God and his angels guard your sacred throne,
And make you long become it!

K. Henry.
Sure, we thank you.
My learned Lord, we pray you to proceed;
And justly and religiously unfold,
Why the law Salike, 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^{1 note}
With opening titles † ^notemiscreate, whose right
Suites 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,^{2 note}

Cant.
Then hear me, gracious Sovereign, and you Peers,
That owe your lives, your faith, and services,
To this imperial throne. There is no bar^{3 note}
To make against your Highness' claim to France,
But this which they produce from Pharamond;
In terram Salicam Mulieres nè succedant;
No Woman shall succeed in Salike land:
Which Salike land the French unjustly gloss
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 Salike lies in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elve,

Where Charles the great, having subdu'd 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 Salike land,
Which Salike, as I said, 'twixt Elve and Sala,
Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
Thus doth it well appear, the Salike law
Was not devised for the realm of France;
Nor did the French possess the Salike land,
Until four hundred one and twenty years
After defunction of King Pharamond,
Idly suppos'd the founder of this law;
Who died within the year of our redemption
Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the great,
Subdu'd 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 Childerick,
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 usurp'd the Crown
Of Charles the Duke of Lorain, sole heir male
Of the true line and stock of Charles the great,
To fine his title with some shews of truth,^{4 note}

Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
Wearing the Crown of France, 'till satisfy'd
That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
Was lineal of the lady Ermengere,
Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorain:
By the which match 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' Satisfaction, all appear
To hold in right and title of the female;
So do the Kings of France until this day,
Howbeit they would hold up this Salike law,
To bar your Highness claiming from the female;
And rather chuse to hide them in a net,
Than amply to imbare their crooked titles,* ^note

K. Henry.
May I with right and conscience make this claim?

Cant.
The sin upon my head, dread Sovereign!
For in the book of Numbers it is writ,
When the son 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 Edward the black Prince,
Who on the French ground play'd a Tragedy,
Making defeat on the full pow'r of France,
While 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 pow'r of France,
And let another half stand laughing by,
All out of work, and cold for action!

Ely.
Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,^{5 note}
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.

Exe.
Your brother Kings and Monarchs of the earth
Do all expect that you should rouze yourself,
As did the former Lions of your blood.

West.
They know, your Grace hath cause; and means and might^{6 note}

Cant.
O, let their bodies follow, my dear Liege,^{7 note}
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.

K. Henry.
We must not only arm t'invade the French,
But lay down our proportions to defend
Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
With all advantages.

Cant.
They of those Marches, gracious Sovereign,
Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
Our Inland from the pilfering borderers.

K. Henry.
We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
Who hath been still a ^{8 note}giddy neighbour to us;
For you shall read, that my great grandfather
Never went with his forces into France,^{9 note}

Cant.
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 your chronicle as rich with praise,^{1 note}

As is the ouzy bottom of the Sea
With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.

Exet.
But there's a saying very old and true,^{2 note}
If that you will France win, then with Scotland first begin.^{3 note}
For once the Eagle England being in prey,
To her unguarded nest the Weazel, Scot,
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs;
Playing the Mouse in absence of the Cat,
To taint, and havock, more than she can eat.^{4 note}

Ely.
It follows then, the Cat must stay at home,
Yet that is but a crush'd necessity;^{5 note}

And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
Th' advised head defends itself at home;
For Government, though high, and low, and lower,* ^note
Put into parts, doth deep in one consent,
Congreeing in a full and natural close,
Like musick.

Cant.
Therefore heaven doth divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion,^{6 note}


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 art of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a King, and officers of sort;
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad,^{7 note}

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, busy'd in his majesty, surveys
The singing mason building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;^{8 note}

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.

K. Henry.
Call in the messengers, sent from the Dauphin.
Now are we well resolv'd; 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. 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 worshipt with a waxen epitaph. SCENE III. Enter Ambassadors of France.

Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear,
Your greeting is from him, not from the King.

Amb.
May't please your Majesty to give us leave
Freely to render what we have in charge,
Or shall we sparingly shew you far off

The Dauphin's meaning, and our embassy?

K. Henry.
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.

Amb.
Thus then, in few.
Your Highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain Dukedoms in the right
Of your great predecessor, 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 advis'd. 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.

K. Henry.
What treasure, uncle?

Exe.
Tennis-balls, my Liege.

K. Henry.
We're glad, the Dauphin is so pleasant with us.
His present, and your pains, we thank you for.
When we have match'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, h'ath made a match with such a wrangler,
That all the Courts of France will be disturb'd
With * ^notechaces. 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 valu'd this poor seat of England,
And therefore, living hence,^{1 note} did give ourself

To barb'rous 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 shew my sail of Greatness
When I do rouze me in my throne of France.
* ^noteFor 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† ^note his balls to gun-stones; and his soul
Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance,
That shall fly with them. Many 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 ye well. [Exeunt Ambassadors.

Exe.
This was a merry message.

K. Henry.
We hope to make the sender blush at it.
Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy hour,
That may give furth'rance to our expedition;
For we have now no thoughts 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. ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Chorus.

Chorus.
Now all the youth of England are on fire,^{2 note}