University of Virginia Library

ACT. V.

SCENE I.

Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Bardolfe, and Boy.
Falstaff.

Stand here by me, Mr. Robert Shallow,
the King shall do you Grace; I
will leer upon him as he comes by, and
do but Mark the Countenance he will
give me.

Bar.

Bless thy Lungs my brave Knight.

Fal.

Come here Bardolfe, stand you behind me.
If I had but time to make new Liveries, I would
have bestow'd the thousand Pound I borrow'd of
you Mr. Shallow upon them; but 'tis no matter,
this mean Shew does better, this will prove the
Zeal I had to see him.

Sha.

It will so.

Fal.

My earnestness and my Devotion.

Sha.

It does indeed Sir John.

Fal.

To ride as it were Day and Night, and not
to deliberate, not to remember, nor to have Patience
to Shift me.

Enter Pistol.
Pist.

Well over taken Knight.

Fal.

Welcome Pistol—but to come daub'd with
Travel and Sweating with desire to see him, thinking
of nothing else, puting all other Affairs in
Oblivion, as if nothing else were to be done, but
to see him.

Pist.

'Tis Semper idem, for Absque hoc nihil est, 'tis
all in every Part.

Shal.

'Tis so indeed.

Pist.

But now, my Knight, I will inflame thy noble
Liver, and make thee Rage. Thy Doll, the Helen of thy
noble Thoughts, is in base Durance, and contagious
Prison, haul'd thither by Mechanical dirty Hands.
Rouze up Revenge from Ebon-den with fell Electo's
Snakes, for Doll is in—Pistol speaks nought but
Truth.

Fal.

I will deliver her

[Trumpets, and Shout.
Pist.

There roar'd the Sea, hark Trumpets, Clangor
sounds.

Enter King Harry the Vth, Prince John, Gloucester, Clarence, Westmorland, Bishops of Canterbury and Ely. Lord Chief Justice and Attendants.
Fal.

Save thy Grace King Hal! my Royal Hal!

Pist.

The Heavens thee Guard and Keep, most
Royal Imp of Fame.

Fal.
Heaven bless thee my sweet Boy?

K. Har.
My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain Man.

C. Just.
Have you your Wits? Know you to whom you Speak?

K. Har.
I know thee not old Man; fall to thy Prayers:
How Ill white Hairs become a Fool and Jester?
I have long Dream'd of such a kind of Man
So Surfeit-swell'd, so Old, and so Prophane;
But being Awake, I now Despise my Dream.
Reply not to me with a Fool-born Jest,
Presume not that I am the Thing I was.
For Heav'n does know (and so the World shall find)
That as I've turn'd away my former self,
So will I those who kept me Company,
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, thou shalt then be as thou wart,
The Tutor, and the Feeder of my Riots.
Till then I Banish thee on Pain of Death,
As I have done the rest of my Misleaders,
Not to come near my Person by ten Miles;
And that Necessity may not Compel you
To farther Wickedness: I will allow you
A handsom Competency to Subsist on,
And as I hear
You do behave your selves farther Advancement.
My Lord Chief Justice, let it be your Care,
To see my Will Perform'd—Go on.

[Exeunt. all the Court.
Fal.
Mr. Shallow. I owe you a thousand Pound.

Sha.

Yes, Sir John, which I beseech you to let
me have Home with me.

Fal.

That can hardly be Mr. Shallow, Do not
Grieve at this; I shall be sent for in Private to
him—Look ye, he must seem thus to the World.
Fear not the Advancement, I will be the Man yet,
that shall make you Great.

Sha.

I cannot well perceive how, unless you
should give me your Doublet, and Stuff me out
with Straw. I beseech you, good Sir John let me
have five Hundred of my Thousand.

Fal.

Sir, I will be as good as my Word; this
that you heard was but a Colour.

Sha.
A Colour not to be Wash'd out Sir John.
'Tis a Colour I'm afraid you'll Die in.

Fal.

Fear no Colours; go with me to Dinner
Mr. Shallow; come Lieutenant Pistol, come Bardolfe,
I tell you for all this, I shall be sent for soon
at Night.

Sha.
Sent for! Ay, by a Constable, I believe.

[Exeunt.
Enter Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.
B. Can.
The King seems Gracious to us.

Ely.
And a true Lover of the holy Church.

B. Can.
The Courses of his Youth promis'd it not.
The Breath no sooner left his Father's Body,
But his loose Wildness mortifying in him
Seem'd to Dye too. At that very Moment
Consideration like an Angel came,
And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him;
Leaving his Body as a Paradice,
To be possess'd by none but holy Spirits.
Never was such a suddain Scholar made,
Never came Reformation in a Flood
With such a heady Current, scowring Faults
As in this King.

Ely.
We are blessed in the Change.

B. Can.
Hear him but Reason in Divinity
You would desire the King were made a Prelate.
In Council, hear him Speak of State Affairs.
You'd say it had been all in all his Study.
Let him Discourse of War, and you shall hear
A dreadful Battle render'd you in Musick.
Turn him to any Point of Policy,
The gordion Knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his Garter; that when he Speaks,
The Air a licens'd Libertine is still.
And the mute wonder lurketh in Men's Ears,
To steal the Honey'd Sentences he utters.
That 'tis a wonder how his Grace should Glean it.
The courses of his Life were Vain and Idle,
His Company Unletter'd, Rude and Shallow,
His Hours fill'd up with Riots, Banquets, Sports,
And never noted in him any Study,
Any retirement from those wild vain Courses.

Ely.
The Strawberry grows underneath the Nettle,
And wholsome Berries thrive and ripen best,
Neighbour'd by Fruit of baser Quality.
And so this Prince obscur'd his Contemplation
Under the Vail of Wildness, which (no doubt)
Grew like the Summer Grass, fastest by Night
Unseen, and consequently Unobserv'd.

B. Can.
The French Ambassador, has from the King
Crav'd Audience; and the Hour I think is near.
Is it not Four a Clock?

Ely.
It wants not much.

B. Can.
The King will hear him hear.

Ely.
But see the King returns.

Enter King, Prince John, Gloucester, Clarence, Westmorland, Warwick and Attendants.
K. Harry.
Where is my Lord Chief Justice?

West.
In the next Room.

K. Harry.
Send for him in.

West.
Shall we call in th' Ambassador my Liege?

K. Harry.
Not yet; I would be resolv'd.
Before I hear him, of some things of Weight,
That fill my Thoughts concerning us and France.

Enter Lord Chief Justice.
Bish.
Heaven, and good Angels, Guard your Sacred Throne,
And make you long become it.

K. Harry.
I thank you both. My good Wise Lord Chief Justice.
And you my Learned Lord of Canterbury,
Have you as I desir'd enquir'd into
My Right and Title to the Crown of France?

B. Can.
My Gracious Sovereign I have.

C. Just.
We both impartially have Study'd it.

K. Harry.
Then tell me plainly Lords,
Why the Law Salique which they have in France,
Or Should, or should not Bar me in my Claim?
And good my Lords, I caution you take heed,
You do not Fashion, Wrest, or turn your reading
To any colour suits not with the Truth:
For Heaven knows how many now in Health,
Shall drop their Blood in Approbation,
Of what this Moment you Incite us to.
Under this Conjuration speak my Lords
For I will hear, Note, and lodge it in my Heart,
That when you Speak is in your Conscience Just.

C. Just.
Then hear me Gracious Sovereign 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.
No Woman shall Succeed in Salique Land.
Which Salique Land, the French, falsely Interpret,
To be the Realm of France, and Pharamond,
The Founder of this Law, yet there own Writers
Faithfully affirm, that the Land Salique
Is in Germany, between the Flouds of
Sala and of Elve.

K. Harry.
Go on.

C. Just.
Thus our third Edward your great Grand Father,
(Whose Mother was th' undoubted Heir of France)
Did in her own Right, Claim, Win, and wear the Crown.
So 'tis as clear as an unclouded Sun,
That Hugh Capet's Claim;
King Lewis's Satisfaction, both appear
To hold in Right and Title of the Female.
So do the Kings of France this very Day,
However they hold up this Salique Law,
To bar your Highness claiming from the Female;

K. Harry.
May I with right and Conscience make this Claim?

B. Can.
The Sin light on my Head dread Sovereign.
In the Mosaick Law we find it Written,
When the Male Dyes, let the Inheritance
Descend unto the Daughter. Gracious Sir.
Assert your own, and set your Standard up.
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
Alone Defeating the full Power of France.
While his most mighty Father on a Hill,
Stood smiling to behold his Lyons-whelp,
Forrage in Blood of French Nobility.
O noble English! that could Entertain
With half their Forces, all the Pow'r of France;
And let the other half stand Laughing by
Idle, and Cold, for want of Action.

West.
Wake the remembrance of these valiant Dead,
You are their Heir, you sit upon their Throne,
The Blood and Courage so Renown'd in 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.
Your Brother Kings, and Monarchs of the Earth,
Do all expect that you should Rouze your self
As did the former Lyons of your Blood.

K. Harry.
Then call the Ambassadors sent from the Dauphin.
'Tis now resolv'd, and by the help of Heav'n,
And yours, the noble Sinnews of this War,
The Pride of France shall bend, or break to pieces,
I'll Reign o're all Her almost, Kingly Dukedoms,
Or lay these Bones in an unworthy Grave.

Enter the French Ambassadors, Conducted by Cambridge, Scroop and Gray.
K. Harry.
Now we are well prepar'd to know the Pleasure
Of our kind 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 shew you far off
The Dauphin's meaning, and our Embassy?

K. Har.
No, no, my Lord Ambassador speak plainly;
Tell us the Dauphin's Mind.

Amb.
Then thus in short,
Your Highness lately sending into France,
Did Claim some certain Dukedoms in the Right,
Of your great Predecessor Edward the Third.
In Answer of which Claim the Prince our Master,
Bids you be well Advis'd. There's nought in France
That can be with a nimble Galliard won.
You cannot Revel into Dukedoms there,
He sends a present fitter for your Humour,
A Tune of Treasure; and in lieu of that
Desires you'l let the Dukedoms that you Claim,
Hear no more from you. This the Dauphin bid us say.

K. Harry.
What Treasure is this my Lord of Westmorland.

West.
Tennis-Balls my Liege.

K. Harry.
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'll in the Heart of France play such a Sett,
Shall strike his Father's Crown into the Hazard.
For I will rise there with so full a Glory,
That I will dazle all the Eyes of France,
Yes, strike the Dauphin Blind to look on me.
And tell your pleasant Prince, this Mock of his
May be the Cause that Thousands yet Unborn,
Long may Lament, and Curse the Dauphin's Scorn,
Convey them with safe Conduct hence.—Farewel.

[Exiunt. Amb.]
West.
This was a merry Message.

K. Harry.
I hope to make the sender Blush at it,
My Lord of Cambridge, and my Lord of Marsham,
And you Sir Gray Knight of Northumberland,
Tell me your Thoughts, have I a pow'r sufficient
To meet this Dauphin, and Chastise his Insolence?

Scr.
No doubt my Liege, if each Man do his best.

K. Harry.
I doubt not that, for I am well persuaded
I carry not a Heart with me from hence,
That joyns not in a fair Consent with mine.
Nor leave one Man behind me, but does wish
Success, and Conquest may attend on us.

Cam.
Never was Monarch better Fear'd, and Lov'd
Than is your Majesty. There's not a Subject
That sits in Sorrow, or Uneasiness
Under the sweet Shade of your Government.

Gray.
True, those that were your Fathers Enemies
Have steep'd their Galls in Honey and now,
With Hearts brimful of Duty, Faith, and Zeal,
They do your Grace incessant Services.

K. Harry.
We hope no less my Lord Westmorland
Inlarge the Man committed Yesterday,
For railing 'gainst our Person, I believe
It was excess of Wine that led him on,
No Propense Malice, therefore I Pardon him.

Scr.
Your Mercy shews too much Security,
Let him be Punish'd, least the bad Example
Breed more Offenders.

K. Harry.
I would be Merciful.

Cam.
So may your Highness, and yet Punish too.

Gray.
You shew him Mercy, if you give him Life
After severe Correction.

K. Har.
If little Faults proceeding from Distemper
Shall not be wink'd at, How should we stretch our Arm
When capital Crimes, chew'd, Swallow'd and Digested
Appear before us?—Well, inlarge the Man
Tho' Cambridge, Scroop, and Gray in their dear Care
And tender Preservation of our Person
Would have him Punish'd. Now to our French business.
Who nam'd I for the Lords Commissioners,
During my Absence?

Cam.
I my Liege am one,
Your Highness bid me ask for it to Day.

Scr.
So did you me my Liege.

Gray.
And I my Royal Sov'reign.

K. H.
Then Richard Earl of Cambridge there is yours,
There's yours Lord Scroop of Marsham, and Sir Gray
Knight of Nortumberland, this same is Yours.
Read 'em and know, I know your Worthyness.
My Lord of Westmorland,
Hast you to Dover, see our Army Shipp'd.
Why how now Gentlemen?
What see you in those Papers, that you lose
Your Colour so? Look how the change my Lords!
Their Cheeks are Paper. Why what ready yon there,
That has so Cowarded, and chased the Blood
Out of your Faces?

Cam.
I confess my Fault.
And do submit me to your Highness's Mercy.

Scr. Gray.
To which we all Appeal.

K. Har.
You must not dare for Shame to speak of Mercy,
Your own Advice but now suppress'd and kill'd it,
And your own Reasons turn into your Bosoms,
As Dogs upon their Masters worrying you.
See, Princes see, and you my noble Peers,
These English Monsters; you, my Lord of Cambridge,
You know how readily my Love supply'd you,
When Riot and Profuseness brought you low.
And Gray no less for Bounty bound to me,
Than this ungrateful perjur'd Cambridge is,
[illeg.]u'd a base parcel of French Gold Corrupt you,
And make you swear to Murther me in Hampton?

Cam. Gray.
With Shame we own our Crime.

K. Har.
Too well you may.
But oh! What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop?
Thou cruel, savage, and ungrateful Wretch!
Thou, that didst bear the Key of all my Councils,
That knew'st the very bottom of my Soul,
That almost, might have Coin'd me into Gold.
May it be possible that Foreign hire,
Could draw one Spark of Evil out of thee,
To hurt my little Finger? 'Tis so strange,
That tho' the Truth of it appears as plain
As Black and White, my Eye will scarcely see it.
This Treachery of thine methinks is like
Another Fall of Man. Arrest 'em Westmorland,
And Heaven acquit 'em of their Practices.

West.
I Arrest thee of High Treason,
Richard Earl of Cambridge,
Thomas Lord Scroop of Marsham,
And Thomas Gray, Knight, of Northumberland.

Scr.
Our Purposes Heaven justly has discover'd,
And I repent my Fault more than my Death.
Which I beseech your Highness to forgive,
Tho' my poor Body pays the Price of it.

Cam.
For me the Gold of France did not seduce me
Altho' I did admit it as a Motive
The sooner to effect what I intended,
But Heaven be thank'd for the prevention
Beseeching God and you to pardon me.

Gray.
Never did faithful Subject more rejoice,
At the discovery of a dangerous Treason;
Than I do at this Hour, joy o'er my self
Prevented from a damn'd enterprize.
My Fault, but not my Body, Pardon Sovereign.

K. Har.
You have conspir'd against our Royal Person.
Join'd with an open Enemy to destroy me,
Receiv'd the Golden Purchase of our Murther,
Wherein you would have Sold your King to Death,
His Princes and his Peers to Servitude,
His Subjects to Oppression and Contempt,
And his whole Kingdom into Desolation.
As for my Person, I seek no Revenge,
But my dear Kingdoms safety we must tender,
Whose Ruin and Destruction you Three sought.
Therefore to our just Laws we give you up,
And Heaven have Mercy on you. Take 'em hence
[Cam. Scro. and Gray are carried off.
Now Lords for France.
This strange Discovery is a happy Omen,
For I am satisfy'd my Cause is Just.
In that belief my Standard I'll advance,
For I will be—
No King of England, if not King of France.

[Exeunt Omnes.