Gower.
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, scauld, beggarly, lowsy, 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
-- 472 --
me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me
eat my Leek. 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.
Enter Pistol.
Gow.
Why, here he comes swelling like a Turkycock.
Flu.
'Tis no matter for his swelling, nor his Turkycocks.
God plesse you, aunchient Pistol: you scurvy
lowsy knave, God plesse you.
Pist.
Ha! art thou beldam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
2 noteTo have me fold up Parca's 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, does 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, scauld knave, as eat it?
Pist.
Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
Flu.
You say very true, scauld knave, when God's
will is. I desire you to live in the mean time and eat
your victuals; come, there is sauce for it—[Strikes him.]
You call'd me yesterday Mountain-Squire, but I will
make you to day a * noteSquire of low degree. I pray you,
fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
Gow.
Enough, captain; you have † noteastonish'd him.
Flu.
I say, I will make him eat some part of my
leek, or I will peat his pate four days. Pite, I pray
-- 473 --
you; it is good for your 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
3 note
eat and eat I swear—
Flu.
Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more
sauce 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, scauld knave, heartily.
Nay, pray you throw none away, the skin is good for
your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions 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; God pe wi'you, and keep you, and
heal your pate.
[Exit.
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 predeceas'd valour, and dare not avouch in your
-- 474 --
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 'tis otherwise; and henceforth let a
Welsh-correction teach you a good English condition.
Fare you well.
[Exit.
Pist.
Doth 4 notefortune play the huswife with me now?
* noteNews have I, that my Dol is dead i' th' spittle
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 will I turn,
And something lean to cut-purse 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.5 note
[Exit.6 note
-- 475 --
SCENE III.
The French Court, at Trois in Champaigne.
Enter at one door King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwick,
and other Lords; at another, the French King,
Queen Isabel, Princess Catharine, the Duke of Burgundy, and other French.
K. Henry.
Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met.7 note
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 Catharine;
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. Isa.
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. Isa.
You English Princes all, I do salute you.
Burg.
My duty to you both on equal love
Great Kings of France, and England. That I've labour'd
-- 476 --
With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavours,
To bring your most imperial Majesties
8 noteUnto 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?
Alas! she hath from France too long been chas'd;
And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility.
9 note
Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Unpruned dies; her hedges even pleach'd,
Like * noteprisoners, wildly over-grown 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 savag'ry:
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;
-- 477 --
And all our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
Defective in their nurtures, 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, 1 note
diffus'd attire,
And every thing that seems unnatural.
Which to reduce into our 2 noteformer favour,
You are assembled; and my speech intreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle peace
Should not expel these inconveniencies;
And bless us with her former qualities.
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 tenours 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
-- 478 --
To re-survey them; we will suddenly
3 note
Pass, or accept, and peremptory answer.
K. Henry.
Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter,
And brother Clarence, and you, brother Glo'ster,
Warwick and Huntington, go with the King;
And take with you free pow'r 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?
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 Catherine here with us.
She is our capital demand, compris'd
Within the fore-rank of our articles.
Q. Isa.
She hath good leave.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Manent King Henry, Catharine, and a Lady.
K. Henry.
Fair Catharine, 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?
Cath.
Your Majesty shall mock at me, I cannot
speak your England.
K. Henry.
O fair Catharine, 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?
-- 479 --
Cath.
Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vhat is like me.
K. Henry.
An angel is like you, Kate, and you are
like an Angel.
Cath.
Que dit-il, que je suis semblable à les Anges?
Lady.
Ouy, vrayment, (sauf vostre grace) ainsi dit il.
K. Henry.
I said so, dear Catharine, and I must
not blush to affirm it.
Cath.
O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines
de tromperies.
K. Henry.
What says she, fair one? that tongues of
men are full of deceits?
Lady.
Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of
deceits: dat is de Princess.
K. 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,4 note 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 further 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?
Cath.
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;
-- 480 --
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-a-napes, never off. But, before God, Kate, I
cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence, nor
have I cunning in protestation; only downright oaths,
which I never use 'till urg'd, and 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 plain soldier; if thou
canst love me for this, take me; if not, to say to thee
that I shall die, 'tis true; but for thy love, by the
Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou liv'st,
Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy,5 note
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 wouldst have such a one, take me;
-- 481 --
take a soldier; take a King. And what say'st thou then
to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
Cath.
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
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.
Cath.
I cannot tell vhat is dat.
K. Henry.
No, Kate? I will tell thee in French,
which, I am sure, will hang upon my tongue like a
* notemarried wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be
shook off, quand j' ay le possession de France, & quand
vous aves le possession de moi (let me see, what then?
St. Dennis be my speed!) donc vostre est France, &
vous estes 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.
Cath.
Sauf vostre honneur, le Francois que vous parlez,
est meilleur que l' Anglois lequel je parle.
K. Henry.
No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking
of my tongue and I thine, most truly falsly, must
needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost
thou understand thus much English? canst thou love me?
Cath.
I cannot tell.
K. 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
saving faith within me, tells me, thou shalt) I get thee
-- 482 --
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 Constantinople6 note and take
the Turk by the beard? shall we not? what say'st thou,
my fair Flower-de-luce?
Cath.
I do not know dat.
K. 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 Catharine du monde,
mon tres chere & divine deesse.
Cath.
Your Majestee ave fause Frenche enough to
deceive de most sage damoisel dat is en France.
K. Henry.
Now, fy upon my false French; by mine
honour, in true English I love thee, Kate; by which
honour I dare not swear thou lov'st me, yet my blood
begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the
poor and untempering effect of my visage.7 note 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 Catharine, 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
-- 483 --
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,
tho' 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 musick; for
thy voice is musick, and thy English broken: therefore
Queen of all, Catharine, break thy mind to me
in broken English, wilt thou have me?
Cath.
Dat is, as it shall please le roy mon pere.
K. Henry.
Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it
shall please him, Kate.
Cath.
Den it shall also content me.
K. Henry.
Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call
you my Queen.
Cath.
Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foy,
je ne veux point que vous abbaissiez vostre grandeur, en
baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure; excusez
moy, je vous supplie, mon tres puissant Seigneur.
K. Henry.
Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
Cath.
Les dames & damoiselles pour estre baisées devant
leur nopces, il n'est pas le coûtume de France.
K. Henry.
Madam my interpreter, what says she?
Lady.
Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of
France; I cannot tell, what is baiser en English.
K. Henry.
To kiss.
Lady.
Your Majesty entendre bettre que moy.
K. Henry.
Is it not a fashion for the maids in France
to kiss before they are married, would she say?
Lady.
Ouy, vrayement.
K. Henry.
O Kate, nice customs curt'sy 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 the upholding the nice fashion of your
country in denying me a kiss. Therefore—patiently and
yielding—[Kissing her] You have witchcraft in your
-- 484 --
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.
SCENE V.
Enter the French King and Queen, with French and English Lords.
Burg.
God save your Majesty! My royal cousin,
teach you our Princess English?
K. Henry.
I would have her learn, my fair cousin,
how perfectly I love her, and that is good English.
Burg.
Is she apt?
K. Henry.
Our tongue is rough, 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.
Burg.
Pardon the frankness of my mirth,8 note 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.
K. Henry.
Yet they do wink and yield, as love is
blind and enforces.
Burg.
They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they
see not what they do.
-- 485 --
K. Henry.
Then, good my Lord, teach your cousin
to consent to winking.
Burg.
I will wink on her to consent, my Lord, if
you will teach her to know my meaning. Maids, well
summer'd and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholemew-tide,
blind, though they have their eyes: and then
they will endure handling, which before would not
abide looking on.
K. Henry.
* noteThis 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.
Burg.
As love is, my Lord, before it loves.
K. 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.
Fr. King.
Yes, my Lord, you see them perspectively;
the cities turn'd into a maid; for they are all
girdled with maiden walls, that war hath never enter'd.
K. Henry.
Shall Kate be my wife?
Fr. King.
So please you.
K. 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 shew me the way to my will.
Fr. King.
We have consented to all terms of reason.
K. Henry.
Is't so, my Lords of England?
West.
The King hath granted every article:
His daughter first; and then in sequel all,
According to their firm proposed nature.
Exe.
Only he hath not yet subscribed this:
Where your Majesty demands, That the King of France,
having occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name
your Highness in this form, and with this addition in
French: 9 notenostre tres cher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre,
-- 486 --
heretier de France: and thus in Latin; Præclarissimus
filius noster Henricus Rex Angliæ & hæres Franciæ.
Fr. King.
Yet this I have not (brother) so deny'd,
But your request shall make me let it pass.
K. Henry.
I pray you then, in love and dear alliance,
Let that one article rank with the rest,
And thereupon give me your daughter.
Fr. King.
Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
Issue to me; that these contending Kingdoms,
England and France, 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 breasts, that never war advance
His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
Lords.
Amen!
K. Henry.
Now welcome, Kate; and bear me witness all,
That here I kiss her as my Sovereign Queen.
[Flourish.
Q. Isa.
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,1 note
To make divorce of their incorporate league;
That English may as French, French, Englishmen,
Receive each other. God speak this Amen!
All.
Amen!
-- 487 --
K. 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!
[Exeunt.
Enter Chorus.
Thus far with rough, and all unable, pen
Our blending author2 note
hath pursu'd the story;
In little room confining mighty men,
Mangling by starts3 note the full course of their glory.
Small time, but, in that small, most greatly liv'd
This Star of England; fortune made his sword,
By which the world's best garden he atchiev'd,
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 i'th' 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.46Q0174
