Introductory matter ^note

INTRODUCTION.

It is a circumstance deserving remark, that not one of the title-pages of the quarto editions of “Henry V.” attribute the authorship of the play to Shakespeare. It was printed three several times during the life of the poet, but in no instance with his name. The fact, no doubt, is, that there never was an authorized edition of “Henry V.” until it ppeared in the folio of 1623, and that the quarto impressions were surreptitious, and were published without the consent of the author, or of the company to which he was attached. They came out in 1600, 1602, and 1608, the one being merely a reprint of the other; and, considering the imperfectness and deficiency of the text in the quarto of 1600, it is perhaps strange that no improvements were made in the subsequent impressions. The drama must have enjoyed great popularity; it must have been played over and over again at the theatre, and yet the public interest, as far as perusal is concerned, would seem to have been satisfied with a brief, rude, and mutilated representation of the performance. The quartos can be looked upon in no other light than as fragments of the original play, printed in haste for the satisfaction of public curiosity.

The quartos bear strong external and internal evidence of fraud: the earliest of them was not published by a bookseller or booksellers by whom Shakespeare's genuine dramas were issued; and the second and third came from the hands of Thomas Pavier, who was instrumental in giving to the world some pieces, with the composition of which Shakespeare had no concern, though ascribed to him on the title-page. The internal evidence shows that the edition was made up, not from any authentic manuscript, nor even from any combination of the separate parts delivered out to the actors by the copyist of the theatre, but from what could be taken down in short-hand, or could be remembered, while the performance was taking place. It is true that the quarto impressions contain not the slightest hint of the Chorusses, nor of whole scenes, and long speeches found in the folio of 1623; and the inference seems to be that “Henry V.” was originally produced by Shakespeare in a comparatively incomplete state, and that large portions contained in the folio, and of which no trace can be pointed out in the quartos, were added at a subsequent date, to give greater novelty and attraction to the drama. Such, we

know, was a very common course with all our early stage-poets. A play called “Henry V.” was represented at Court on the 7th Jan. 1605, as we learn from “The Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels,” edited by Mr. P. Cunningham, and printed by the Shakespeare Society, p. 204; and these important additions may have been inserted for that occasion. The entry runs, literatim, as follows:—

“On the 7 of January was played the play of Henry the fift.”

In the margin we are informed that it was acted “by his Majesty's players,” but the name of the author is not in this instance given, although “Shaxberd” is placed opposite the title of “Measure for Measure,” stated to have been exhibited on a preceding night. The fact that the actors belonged to Shakespeare's company renders it most probable that his play was performed on the occasion; but it is to be recollected also, that the old play of “The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth” purports on the title-page to have been “acted by the King's Majesty's servants,” even at so late a date as 1617, when the last edition of it made its appearance. Nevertheless, we may perhaps take it for granted, that the “Henry the fift,” played at Whitehall by the king's servants, on 7th Jan. 1605, was Shakespeare's historical drama; and it may not be too much to presume, that most of the additions (Chorusses excepted) included in the folio of 1623, were written in consequence of the selection of “Henry V.” by the Master of the Revels for representation before James I.

Our opinion, then, is that Shakespeare did not originally write his “Henry V.” by any means as we find it in the folio of 1623, and that it was first produced without various scenes and speeches subsequently written and introduced: we are perfectly convinced that the three quarto editions of 1600, 1602, and 1608 do not at all contain the play as it was acted in the first instance; but were hastily made up from notes taken at the theatre during the performance, subsequently patched together. Now and then we meet with a few consecutive lines, similar to the authentic copy, but in general the text is miserably mangled and disfigured. We might find proofs in support of our position in every part of the play, but as in his “Twenty Quartos” Steevens has reprinted that of 1608, it will be needless to select more than a single specimen. We give the text as we find it, literatim, in the quarto, 1600, from the copy in the Library of the Duke of Devonshire: our extract is from Act i. sc. 2, the speech of the King, just before the French Ambassadors are called in:—
“Call in the messenger sent from the Dolphin,
And by your aid, the noble sinewes of our land,
France being ours, weele bring it to our awe,
Or break it all in pieces:

Eyther our Chronicles shal with full mouth speak
Freely of our acts,
Or else like toonglesse mutes
Not worshipt with a paper epitaph.”

Such is the speech as it is abridged and corrupted in the quarto, 1600: the correct text, as contained in the folio of 1623, may be seen on p. 477 of the following play.

It not unfrequently happened that the person who took down the lines as the actors delivered them, for the purpose of publishing the quarto, 1600, misheard what was said, and used wrong words which in sound nearly resembled the right: thus, earlier in the same scene, the Archbishop of Canterbury says, according to the folio, 1623,
“They of those Marches, gracious sovereign,
Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
Our inland from the pilfering borderers.” In the quarto, 1600, the materials for which were probably surreptitiously obtained at the theatre, the passage is thus given:—
“The Marches, gracious soveraigne, shalbe sufficient
To guard your England from the pilfering borderers.”

We might multiply instances of the same kind, but we do not think there can be any reasonable doubt upon the point.

The quartos, as we have stated, contain no hint of the Chorusses, but a passage in that which precedes Act v. certainly relates to the expedition of the Earl of Essex to Ireland, between the 15th April and the 28th Sept. 1599, and must have been written during his absence:—
“As, by a lower but loving likelihood,
Were now the general of our gracious empress
(As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit
To welcome him.”

The above lines were, therefore, composed between the 15th April and the 28th Sept. 1599, and most likely the Chorusses formed part of the piece as originally acted, although the short-hand writer did not think it a necessary portion of the performance to be included in the earliest quarto, 1600, which was to be brought out with great speed; and perhaps the length of these and other recitations might somewhat baffle his skill. Upon this supposition, the question when Shakespeare wrote his “Henry V.” is brought to a narrow point; and confirmed as it is by the omission of all mention of the play by Meres, in his Palladis Tamia, 1598, we need feel little doubt that his first sketch came from the pen of Shakespeare, for performance at the Globe theatre, early in the summer of 1599. The enlarged drama, as it stands in the folio of 1623, we are disposed to believe was not put into the complete shape in which it has there come down to us, until shortly before the date when it was played at Court.

1 ^note.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ KING HENRY THE FIFTH. DUKE OF GLOSTER [Duke of Gloucester], Brother to the King. DUKE OF BEDFORD, Brother to the King. DUKE OF EXETER, Uncle to the King. DUKE OF YORK, Cousin to the King. EARL OF SALISBURY, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, EARL OF WARWICK. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. BISHOP OF ELY. EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, Conspirator. LORD SCROOP, Conspirator. SIR THOMAS GREY, Conspirator. SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, Officer in King Henry's Army. GOWER, Officer in King Henry's Army. FLUELLEN, Officer in King Henry's Army. MACMORRIS, Officer in King Henry's Army. JAMY, Officer in King Henry's Army. BATES, Soldier. COURT, Soldier. WILLIAMS, Soldier. PISTOL, NYM, BARDOLPH. BOY, Servant to Pistol, Nym and Bardolph. A Herald. CHORUS. CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France. LEWIS, the Dauphin. DUKE OF BURGUNDY, DUKE OF ORLEANS, DUKE OF BOURBON. The CONSTABLE of FRANCE. RAMBURES, French Lord. GRANDPRE, French Lord. MONTJOY, A French Herald. Governor of Harfleur. Ambassadors to England [Ambassador]. ISABEL, Queen of France. KATHARINE, Daughter of Charles and Isabel. ALICE, a Lady attending on the Princess. MRS. QUICKLY, a Hostess. Lords, Ladies, Officers, French and English Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants. The SCENE in England, and in France.

KING HENRY V.

[Prologue] CHORUS. Enter Chorus^{1 note}.
O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven 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,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
Crouch for employment. 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 cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O^{2 note} the very casques,
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers 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 upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance^{3 note}



:
Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i' the 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. London. An Ante-chamber in the King's Palace. Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.

Cant.
My lord, I'll tell you, that self bill is urg'd,
Which in th' eleventh year of the last king's reign
Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd,
But that the scambling and unquiet time^{4 note}
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 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 valued 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 supplied;

And to the coffers of the king beside,
A thousand pounds by the 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, mortified in him,
Seem'd to die too: yea, at that very moment,
Consideration like an angel came,
And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him,
Leaving his body as a paradise,
T' envelop and contain celestial spirits.
Never was such a sudden scholar made:
Never came reformation in a flood,
With such a heady current scouring 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 battle render'd you in music:
Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences;
So that the art and practic part of life
Must be the mistress to this theoric:

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 wholesome 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.

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 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 speak a word of it.

Ely.
I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Same. A Room of State in the Same. Enter King Henry, Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Warwick, Westmoreland, and Attendants.

K. Hen.
Where is my gracious lord of Canterbury?

Exe.
Not here in presence.

K. Hen.
Send for him, good uncle.

West.
Shall we call in th' ambassador, my liege^{5 note}
?

K. Hen.
Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolv'd,
Before we hear him, of some things of weight,
That task 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. Hen.
Sure, we thank you.
My learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
And justly and religiously unfold,
Why the law Salique, 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
Suits not in native colours with the truth;
For God doth know, how many, now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation^{6 note}
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 wrongs give edge unto the swords
That make such waste in brief mortality.
Under this conjuration, speak, my lord,
And we will hear, note, and believe in heart,
That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd,
As pure as sin with baptism.

Cant.
Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
That owe yourselves, 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 nè succedant,
“No woman shall succeed in Salique land.”
Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze^{7 note},
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 Salique is in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
Where Charles the great^{8 note}, having subdued 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 Salique land:
Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
Then doth it well appear, the Salique law
Was not devised for the realm of France;
Nor did the French possess the Salique 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
Subdued 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^{9 note} with some shows of truth,
Though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,
Convey'd himself as th' heir to the 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 satisfied
That fair queen Isabel, his grandmother,
Was lineal of the lady Ermengare,
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 unto this day,
Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law,
To bar your highness claiming from the female;
And rather choose to hide them in a net,
Than amply to imbare their crooked titles^{1 note}
Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.

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

Cant.
The sin upon my head, dread sovereign;
For in the book of Numbers is it 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 uncle's, 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,
All 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 enterprizes.

Exe.
Your brother kings, and monarchs of the earth,
Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
As did the former lions of your blood.

West.
They know, your grace hath cause, and means, and might:
So hath your highness^{2 note}


:—never king of England
Had nobles richer, and more loyal subjects,
Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England,
And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.

Cant.
O! let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
With blood^{3 note}, 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. Hen.
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. Hen.
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: 11Q0649
For you shall read, that my great grandfather
Never went with his forces into France,
But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
With ample and brim fulness of his force;
Galling the gleaned land with hot essays,
Girding with grievous siege castles and towns;
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 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, 11Q0650
And make their chronicle^{4 note} as rich with praise,

As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.

West.
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 unguarded nest the weasel, Scot,
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs;
Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
To tear and havoc more than she can eat^{5 note}.

Exe.
It follows then, the cat must stay at home:
Yet that is but a curs'd necessity^{6 note},
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 itself at home:
For government, though high, and low, and lower,
Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
Congreeing^{7 note} in a full and natural close,
Like music.

Cant.
Therefore doth heaven 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; 11Q0653
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 masons building roofs of gold,
The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens 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 concent, 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; 11Q0654
As many lines close in the dial's center;
So may a thousand actions, once afoot,
End in one purpose^{8 note}, 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. Hen.
Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. [Exit an Attendant.
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: 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 worshipp'd 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 't please your majesty, to give us leave
Freely to render what we have in charge;
Or shall we sparingly show you far off,
The Dauphin's meaning, and our embassy?

K. Hen.
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, 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. Hen.
What treasure, uncle?

Exe.
Tennis-balls, my liege^{9 note}.

K. Hen.
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 chases^{10 note note}. 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, did give ourself
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 show my sail of greatness,
When I do rouse me in my throne of France: 11Q0657
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 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 you well. [Exeunt Ambassadors.

Exe.
This was a merry message.

K. Hen.
We hope to make the sender blush at it.
Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour,
That may give furtherance 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; 11Q0658 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. Enter Chorus.

Chor.
Now all the youth of England are on fire,
And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies:
Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every man. 11Q0659
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 Marsham, and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey, 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 die,
If hell and treason hold their promises,
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on; and well digest
Th' abuse of distance: force a play^{1 note}
.
The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
The king is set from London; and the scene
Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton.
There is the playhouse 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^{2 note}
. [Exit. SCENE I. London. Eastcheap. Enter Nym and Bardolph.

Bard.

Well met, corporal Nym.

Nym.

Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph.

Bard.

What, are ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

Nym.

For my part, I care not: I say little; but when time shall serve, there shall be smiles; 11Q0661—but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one; but what though? it will toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man's sword will; and there's an end^{3 note}.

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 Nym.

Nym.

'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 Nell Quickly; and, certainly, she did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.

Nym.

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 mare^{4 note}, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.