SCENE II.
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 Katharine, the duke of Burgundy, and other French.
K. Henry.
2 note
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)
-- 157 --
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.
Bur.
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
3 noteUnto 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 its own fertility.
-- 158 --
4 note
Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Unpruned dies: her hedges even-pleach'd,
5 noteLike prisoners 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 deracinate6 note
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.
And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
7 noteDefective 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,
-- 159 --
That nothing do but meditate on blood,—
To swearing, and stern looks, 8 note
diffus'd attire,
And every thing that seems unnatural.
Which to reduce into our 9 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 the 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.
Bur.
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
To appoint some of your council presently
To sit with us once more, with better heed
To re-survey them, 1 note
we will, suddenly,
Pass, or accept, and peremptory answer.
-- 160 --
K. Henry.
Brother, we shall.—Go, uncle Exeter,—
And brother Clarence,—and you, brother Gloster,—
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?
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, Katharine, and a lady.
K. Henry.
Fair Katharine, and most fair2 note
!
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?
-- 161 --
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.
Kath.
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 Katharine; and I must
not blush to affirm it.
Kath.
O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines
des tromperies.
K. Henry.
What says she, fair one? that the 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 3 notesuch 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
-- 162 --
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?
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:
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
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 sun-burning, that
never looks in his glass for love of any thing he sees
there, let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee
plain soldier: If thou canst love me for this, take me:
if not, to say to thee—that I shall die, 'tis true;
but—for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee
too. And while thou liv'st, dear Kate, 4 note
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 rhime themselves into ladies'
favours,—they do always reason themselves out again.
-- 163 --
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.
Kath.
Is it possible dat I should love the enemy of
France5 note
?
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.
Kath.
I cannot tell vat is dat.
K. Henry.
No, Kate? I will tell thee in French;
which, I am sure, will hang upon my tongue6 note
like a
new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly
to be shook off. Quand j'ay la possession de France, &
quand vous avez le possession de moi, (let me see, what
then? Saint 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.
-- 164 --
Kath.
Sauf vostre honneur, le François 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 falsely,
must needs be granted to be much at one. But,
Kate, dost thou understand thus much English?
Canst thou love me?
Kath.
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 be'st mine, Kate, (as I
have saving faith within me, tells me—thou shalt) I
get thee with scambling7 note
, and thou must therefore
needs prove a good soldier-breeder: Shall not thou
and I, between saint Dennis and saint George, compound
a boy, half French, half English, that shall
8 notego to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the
beard? shall we not? what say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce?
Kath.
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
-- 165 --
my English moiety, take the word of a king and a
batchelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine
du monde, mon tres chere & divine deesse?
Kath.
Your majesté 'ave fausse French enough to
deceive de most sage damoiselle dat is en France.
K. 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 9 note
poor and untempering effect of
my visage. Now beshrew my father's ambition! he
was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore
was I created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect
of iron, that, when I come to woo ladies, I fright
them. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the
better I shall appear: my comfort is, that old age,
that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon
my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the
worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me,
better and better; And therefore tell me, most fair
Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden
blushes; avouch the thoughts of your heart with the
looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and
say—Harry of England, I am thine: which word
thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will
tell thee aloud—England is thine, Ireland is thine,
France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine;
-- 166 --
who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not
fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king
of good-fellows. Come, your answer in broken music;
for thy voice is music, and thy English broken:
therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind
to me in broken English, Wilt thou have me?
Kath.
Dat is, as it shall please de 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 I call
you—my queen.
Kath.
Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foy,
je ne veux point que vous abbaissez 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.
Kath.
Les dames, & damoselles, pour estre baiseés 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 de ladies of
France,—I cannot tell what is, baiser, en English.
K. Henry.
To kiss.
Lady.
Your majesty entendre bettre que moy.
K. Henry.
It is not a fashion for the maids in France
to kiss before they are married, would she say?
Lady.
Ouy, vrayment.
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 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
-- 167 --
French council; and they should sooner 1 note
persuade
Harry of England, than a general petition of monarchs.
Here comes your father.
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 not apt?
K. Henry.
Our tongue is rough, coz'; and my condition
is not smooth 2 note
: 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.
3 notePardon 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 rosy'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.
-- 168 --
Burg.
They are then excus'd, my lord, when they
see not what they do.
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: 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.
K. Henry.
4 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 natures.
Exe.
Only, he hath not yet subscribed this:—
Where your majesty demands,—That the king of
France, having any occasion to write for matter of
-- 169 --
grant, shall name your highness in this form, and
with this addition, in French:—5 note
Notre tres cher filz
Henry roy d' Angleterre, 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 the contending kingdoms
Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
With envy of each other's happiness,
May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood and christian-like accord
In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
All.
Amen!
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,
6 noteThrust in between the paction of these kingdoms,
-- 170 --
To make divorce of their incorporate league;
That English may as French, French Englishmen,
Receive each other!—God speak this Amen!
All.
Amen!
K. Henry.
7 note
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,
8 note
Our bending author hath pursu'd the story;
In little room confining mighty men,
9 noteMangling by starts the full course of their glory.
-- 171 --
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 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 take1.
