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?
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 Princes.
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 could'st, thou would'st find me such a plain King,
that thou would'st think I had sold my farm to buy
-- 423 --
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 votre 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 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 8 notea fellow
of plain and uncoined constancy, for he perforce must
do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in
other places: &wlquo;for these fellows of infinite tongue,
that can rhime themselves into ladies' favours, they
do always reason themselves out again.&wrquo; What? a
speaker is but a prater; a rhime is but a ballad; a good
leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black beard
-- 424 --
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'st
have such a one, take me; 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
married 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.
P. 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
-- 425 --
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 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?
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 batchelor.
How answer you, La plus belle Catharine du
monde, mon tres chere & divine deesse.
Cath.
Your Majestee ave fause French enough to
deceive de most sage damoisel 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 poor 7 noteand untempting 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
-- 426 --
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 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 Queeen.
Cath.
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.
Cath.
Les dames & damoisels pour estre baisées devant
leur nopces, il n'est pas le coutume 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 baisser 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'sie to great
Kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confin'd
-- 427 --
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
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.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].