THE LIFE OF King HENRY V. Printed in the Year 1709.

Dramatis Personæ. King Henry the Fifth. Duke of Gloucester, Brother to the King. Duke of Bedford, Brother to the King. Duke of Clarence, Brother to the King. Duke of York, Unkle to the King. Duke of Exeter, Unkle to the King. Earl of Salisbury. Earl of Westmorland [Earl of Westmoreland]. Earl of Warwick. Arch-Bishop of Canterbury [Archbishop of Canterbury]. Bishop of Ely. Earl of Cambridge, Conspirator against the King. Lord Scroop, Conspirator against the King. Sir Thomas Grey, Conspirator against the King. Sir Thomas Erpingham, Officer in King Henry's Army. Gower, Officer in King Henry's Army. Fluellen, Officer in King Henry's Army. Mackmorris [Macmorris], Officer in King Henry's Army. Jamy, Officer in King Henry's Army. Nym, Formerly Servant to Falstaff, now Soldier in the King's Army. Bardolph, Formerly Servant to Falstaff, now Soldier in the King's Army. Pistol, Formerly Servant to Falstaff, now Soldier in the King's Army. Boy, Formerly Servant to Falstaff, now Soldier in the King's Army. Bates, Soldier. Court, Soldier. Williams, Soldier.

Charles the Sixth, King of France. The Dauphin [Lewis]. Duke of Burgundy. Constable [Constable of France], French Lord. Orleans [Duke of Orleans], French Lord. Rambures, French Lord. Bourbon [Duke of Bourbon], French Lord. Grandpree [Grandpre], French Lord. Governour of Harfleur [Governor of Harfleur]. Mountjoy [Montjoy], a Herald. Ambassadors to the King of England. Isabel, Queen of France. Catherine [Katharine], Daughter to the King of France. Alice, a Lady attending on the Princess Catherine. Hostess [Mrs. Quickly]. Lords, Messengers, French and English Soldiers, with other Attendants. [Chorus], [Ambassador], [Messenger], [Duke of Britaine], [French Soldier], [Lady] The SCENE lyes for Part of the first Act in England, but during the rest of the Play wholly in France.

THE LIFE OF King HENRY V.

PROLOGUE.
O for a Muse of Fire, that would ascend
The brightest Heav'n of Invention,
A Kingdom for a Stage, Princes to act,
And Monarchs to behold the swelling Scene.
Then should the Warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the Port of Mars, and at his Heels,
Leasht in, like Hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire
Crouch for Employments. But pardon, Gentles all,
The flat unraised Spirit, that hath dar'd,
On this unworthy Scaffold, to bring forth
So great an Object. Can this Cock-Pit hold
The vasty Field of France? Or may we cram
Within this Wooden O, the very Caskes
That did affright the Air at Agincourt?
O pardon; since a crooked Figure may
Attest in little place a Million,
And let us, Cyphers to this great Accompt,
On your imaginary Forces work.
Suppose within the Girdle of these Walls
Are now confin'd two mighty Monarchies,
Whose high, up-reared, and abutting Fronts,
The perillous narrow Ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our Imperfections with your Thoughts:
Into a thousand Parts divide one Man,
And make imaginary Puissance.
Think, when we talk of Horses, that you see them
Printing their proud Hoofs i'th' receiving Earth:
For 'tis your Thoughts that now must deck our Kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o'er Times;
Turning th' accomplishment of many Years
Into an Hour-glass; for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this History;
Who Prologue-like, your humble Patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge our Play.

ACT I. SCENE I. Enter the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.

Arch-Bishop 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 farther 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 part 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 Alms-houses, right well supply'd;
And to the Coffers of the King, beside,
A thousand pound 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,
Consideration, 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
With such a heady current, scowring Faults:
Nor never Hydra-headed Wilfulness
So soon did lose his Seat, and all at once,
As in this King.

Ely.
We are blessed in the Change.

Cant.
Hear him but reason in Divinity,
And all-admiring, with an inward wish
You would desire the King were made a Prelate.
Hear him debate of Commonwealth Affairs;
You would say, it hath been all in all his Study:
List his Discourse of War, and you shall hear
A fearful Battel rendred you in Musick.
Turn him to any Cause of Policy,
The Gordian Knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his Garter; then when he speaks,
The Air, a Charter'd Libertine, is still,
And the mute Wonder lurketh in Mens Ears,
To steal his sweet and honied Sentences:
So that the Art and practick Part of Life
Must be the Mistress to his Theorique.
Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it,

Since his Addiction was to courses vain,
His Companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow,
His Hours fill'd up with Riots, Banquets, Sports;
And never noted in him any study,
Any retirement, any sequestration
From open Haunts and Popularity.

Ely.
The Strawberry grows underneath the Nettle,
And wholsom Berries thrive and ripen best,
Neighbour'd by Fruit of baser quality:
And so the Prince obscur'd his Contemplation
Under the vail of Wildness; which, no doubt,
Grew like the Summer Grass, fastest by Night,
Unseen, yet crescive in his Faculty.

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
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 a Clock?

Ely.
It is.

Cant.
Then go we in to know his Embassie:
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. 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 the Ambassador, my Liege?

K. Henry.
Not yet, my Cousin; we would be resolv'd,
Before we hear him, of some things of weight,
That task our Thoughs, concerning us and France. Enter the Arch-Bishop 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
With opening Titles miscreate, whose right
Sutes 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,
How you awake our sleeping Sword of War:
We charge you in the Name of God take heed.
For never two such Kingdoms did contend
Without much fall of Blood, whose guiltless drops
Are every one, a Woe, a sore Complaint,
'Gainst him, whose Wrong gives edge unto the Swords,
That make such waste in brief Mortality.
Under this Conjuration, speak my Lord;
For we will hear, note, and believe in Heart,

That what you speak is in your Conscience washt,
As pure as Sin with Baptism.

Cant.
Then hear me, gracious Soveraign, and you Peers,
That owe your selves, your Lives, and Services,
To this Imperial Throne. There is no Bar
To make against your Highness' Claim to France,
But this which they produce from Pharamond,
In terram Salicam Mulieres ne succedant,
No Woman shall succeed in Salike Land:
Which Salike Land, the French unjustly gloze
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 is 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,
Establisht 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.
Then 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 find his Title with some shews of truth,
Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught,
Convey'd himself as th' Heir to th' Lady Lingare,
Daughter to Charlemain, who was the Son
To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the Son
Of Charles the Great: Also King Lewis the Tenth,
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 Ermengære,
Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorain:
By the which Marriage, 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 his Satisfaction, all appear
To hold in Right and Title of the Female:
So do the Kings of France upon 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 make bare their crooked Titles,
Usurpt from you and your Progenitors.

K. Henry.
May I with Right and Conscience make this Claim?

Cant.
The Sin upon my Head, dread Soveraign:
For in the Book of Numbers, it is writ,
When the Man 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 Unkle, Edward the Black Prince,
Who on the French Ground play'd a Tragedy,
Making defeat on the full Power of France:
Whiles 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 Pride of France,

And let another half stand laughing by,
And out of work, and cold for action.

Ely.
Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
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 your self,
As did the former Lions of your Blood.

West.
They know your Grace hath cause, and means, and might;
So hath your Highness, never King of England
Had Nobles richer, and more loyal Subjects,
Whose Hearts have left their Bodies here in England,
And lye pavillion'd in the Field of France.

Cant.
O let their Bodies follow, my dear Liege,
With Blood, and Sword, and Fire, to win your Right:
In aid whereof, we of the Spirituality
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 Soveraign,
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 giddy Neighbour to us:
For you shall read, that my great Grandfather
Never went with his Forces into France,
But that the Scot, on his unfurnisht Kingdom,
Came pouring like a Tide into a Breach,
With ample and brim fulness of his force,
Galling the gleaned Land with hot assays,
Girding with grievous Siege, Towns and Castles:

That England being empty of defence,
Hath shook and trembled at th'ill Neighbourhood.

Cant.
She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my Liege,
For hear her but exampl'd by her self,
When all her Chivalry hath been in France,
And she a mourning Widow of her Nobles,
She hath her self 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 his Chronicle as rich with praise,
As is the Ouzy bottom of the Sea
With sunken Wrack, and sum-less Treasuries.

Ely.
But there's a Saying very old and true,
If that you will France win, then with Scotland first begin.
For once the Eagle, England, being in prey,
To her ungarded Nest, the Weazel, Scot,
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her Princely Eggs,
Playing the Mouse in absence of the Cat,
To spoil and havock more than she can eat.

Exe.
It follows then, the Cat must stay at home:
Yet that is but a crush'd necessity;
Since we have Locks to safeguard Necessaries,
And pretty Traps to catch the petty Thieves.
While that the armed Hand doth fight abroad,
Th'advised Head defends it self at home:
For Government, though high, and low, and lower,
Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
Congreeing in a full and natural close,
Like Musick.

Cant.
Therefore doth Heav'n divide
The state of Man in divers Functions,
Setting Endeavour in continual Motion:
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 Act of Order to a peopled Kingdom.
They have a King, and Officers of sorts,
Where some like Magistrates correct at home:
Others, like Merchants, venture Trade abroad:
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 busied in his Majesty, surveys
The singing Mason building Roofs of Gold,
The civil Citizens kneading up the Honey;
The poor Mechanick Porters, crowding in
Their heavy Burthens at his narrow Gate:
The sad-ey'd Justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to Executors pale
The lazy yawning Drone. I this infer,
That many things having full reference
To one consent, may work contrariously:
As many Arrows loosed several ways
Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one Town,
As many fresh Streams meet in one salt Sea;
As many Lines close in the Dial's center;
So may a thousand Actions once a-foot,
And in one purpose, and be all well born
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 all 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. Or 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.

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 tplease 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 Embassie.

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 plainess,
Tell us the Dauphin's Mind.

Amb.
Thus then in few.
You Highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain Dukedoms, in the right
Of your great Predecessor, King 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 are 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 he hath made a match with such a Wrangler,
That all the Courts of France will be disturb'd
With Chaces. And we understand him well,
And 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, did give our self
To barbarous 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 rowse me in my Throne of France.
For 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 his Balls to Gun-stones, and his Soul
Shall stand sore charged, for the wasteful Vengeance
That shall fly with them: For many a 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 lyes 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 savor 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 thought 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.

Flourish. Enter Chorus.
Now all the Youth of England are on fire,
And silken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lyes:
Now thrive the Armourers, and Honour's thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every Man.
They sell the Pasture now, to buy the Horse,
Following the Mirror of all Christian Kings.
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now sits Expectation in the Air,
And hides a Sword, from Hilts unto the Point,
With Crowns imperial, Crowns and Coronets,
Promis'd to Harry, and his Followers.
The French advis'd by good intelligence
Of this most dreadful preparation,
Shake in their fear, and with pale Policy
Seek to divert the English purposes.
O England! Model to thy inward Greatness,
Like little Body with a mighty Heart;
What might'st thou do, that Honour would thee do,
Were all thy Children kind and natural:
But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out;
A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
With treacherous Crowns, and three corrupted men:
One Richard Earl of Cambridge; and the second,
Henry Lord Scroop of Masham; and the third,
Sir Thomas Gray Knight of Northumberland,
Have for the Gilt of France, (O Guilt indeed!)
Confirm'd Conspiracy with fearful France,
And by their hands this grace of Kings must dye,
If Hell and Treason hold their Promises,
E'er he take ship for France; and in Southampton,
Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
Th'abuse of distance; force a play:
The Sum is pay'd, the Traitors are agreed,
The King is set for London, and the Scene
Is now transported, Gentles, to Southampton,
There is the Play-house now, there must you sit,
And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
And bring you back: Charming the narrow Seas
To give you gentle Pass; for if we may,
We'll not offend one stomach with our Play.

But till the King come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our Scene. [Exit. Enter Corporal Nim, and Lieutenant Bardolph.

Bard.

Well met, Corporal Nim.

Nim.

Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

Bard.

What, are Ancient Pistol and you Friends yet?

Nim.

For my part, I care not: I say little; but when time shall serve, there shall be smiles, but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink, and hold out mine Iron; it is but a simple one, but what though? It will tost cheese, and it will endure cold, as another Man's sword will; and there's an end.

Bard.

I will bestow a breakfast to make you Friends, and we'll be all three sworn Brothers to France: Let it be so, good Corporal Nim.

Nim.

Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may: That is my rest; that is the rendezvous of it.

Bard.

It is certain, Corporal, that he is married to Nel Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.

Nim.

I cannot tell, Things must be as they may; Men may sleep, and they may have their Throats about them at that time, and some say, knives have edges: It must be as it may, though patience be a tired name, yet she will plod, there must be Conclusions; well, I cannot tell.