 | The History of Henry the Fifth |  |
1
THE FIRST ACT.
Enter King Henry the 5t h, the Duke of Exeter, the Duke of Bedford, and Owen Tudor, with their Attendants.King.
This is the day in which our Valour must
Prove to the French, out claim to France is just;
Since 'twill no other way be understood,
It must be writ in Characters of blood.
By injuries they us to Battel call;
Denying us our part, they forfeit all:
'Tis fit in number they should us exceed;
That odds the French against the English need;
That odds which both obliges them and me,
Brings them to Fight, and us to Victory.
Exeter.
Heav'n left us purposely but few for fight,
To shew the world, by your success, your right.
Bedford.
They seem t'acknowledge Heav'n is not their Friend,
Since on their boasted numbers they depend;
Which when their cause is reckon'd, we should prize,
As Heav'n accounts them, for a Sacrifice.
Enter Earl of Warwick.
Exeter.
The Earl of Warwick in his looks does bring
Some News of high importance to the King.
Warw.
Arm! Arm! Great Sir, the Foe is in our view,
And has a Herauld sent to challenge you.
King.
Tell him, I in this Field possess all France,
From which I'le ne're retire, but may advance.
In vain they threaten War, or promise Peace,
They boast their numbers, which we wish not less;
They are enow both to destroy and save;
But were they more, they here might find a Grave.
Take care the Herauld so rewarded be,
That he may know his Message pleases me.
Under their Standards, as I order'd you,
Are all my Troops fixt in the form I drew?
Warw.
They are, and like one face, all looks agree,
Resolving and fore-telling Victory.
King.
Who e're a room to other thoughts affords,
Injures our Quarrel, and mistakes our Swords.
2
How short a time and narrow space of ground
Is't 'twixt your Conquest, and your being Crown'd?
King.
To make both shorter, I will straight advance,
And by two Titles wear the Crown of France.
Uncle, to your command with speed repair;
The right wing, Brother, does expect your care;
Both to the field of Battel lead the way,
Whilst but a moment I with Tudor stay.
Exeunt Exeter, Bedford, Warwick.
[Tudor appears.
Oh my best Friend! thy sadness I must blame,
Canst thou now think on any thing but Fame?
Tudor.
When I reflect how many dangers still
You must attempt, how many more you will—
King.
Reflect on dangers which must glory win.
Tudor.
Excuse me, if my duty makes me sin:
Since I no other way can grateful prove,
I'le rather shew my fear, then hide my love.
King.
That I to thee may proofs of mine dispence,
I now stay here, though glory calls me hence:
When Fame, when Life, and Empire are at stake,
All thoughts of those for thee I can forsake;
Banish thy grief by thinking on that praise,
Which shall thy name so high in Battel raise,
That all my future favours men may say,
Are not what I bestow, but what I pay.
Tudor.
What you have said and done brings me relief;
This day I will deserve your love or grief.
King.
Speak not of grief, but think on that applause
Which Heav'n doth still allow the juster cause.
Tudor.
Why should he be by too much courage lost,
Of whom alone this world has cause to boast?
[Exeunt.
Enter Dauphin, and De Chastel.
Dauph.
Let me despise what I can ne're obtain:
I'll live retir'd since I'm deny'd to reign.
My Mother, having got the Regency,
Does either hate, or is afraid of me;
But I perceive by my retirement here,
I shun her malice, and suppress her fear;
I shall (if I to Paris now return)
Her hatred feel, or which is worse, her scorn.
De Chast.
But shall our Dauphin, the undoubted Heir,
Sit idly peaceful in an active War,
And let his Enemy the Throne ascend?
Dauph.
He who my wrongs revenges, is my Friend.
De Chastel, you have often heard me plead,
That in this War I might the Army lead;
3
And any other trust I think too low:
A Prince whose Soul as well as Birth is great,
If he in glory cannot shine, should set:
From Courts I am condemn'd to Villages,
From noble toyls of War t'ignoble ease;
Where undisturb'd I'll for her hatred grieve,
And honour makes me rather chuse to live
Equal with men not worth the Governing
Then be at Court and there not be a King.
De Chast.
Though I confess her usage, Sir, has been
Such as not fits a Mother or a Queen;
Yet, Sir, consider whilst from her you flye,
You more exalt the Duke of Burgundy.
Dauph.
That fatal name my fury doth advance:
'Twas he who Murth'red Royal Orleance;
And, though the Queen recover my esteem,
No Palace can have space for me and him.
De Chast.
Return the sooner to revenge that blood.
No man has well his interest understood,
Who to enjoy it scrupl'd at the way:
He who builds high must low foundations lay.
I by the Queen for your return am sent,
Her harsh behaviour she does now repent:
By kind submissions you may rule her heart,
And what's deny'd by kindness, gain by Art;
With small complyance you'l suppress her hate,
When Nature's judge, and Duty advocate.
Your absence, Sir, has cast your party down:
Few follow those on whom the Prince does frown.
Dauph.
Thou in all storms hast been my constant Friend,
I'll on thy wisdom and thy care depend;
'Tis just I should to thy advice submit,
For he who makes my fate, should govern it.
De Chast.
With this glad news I will out-ride the Post,
And e're you come to Court, I'll clear the Coast.
[Exeunt.
Enter the Queen of France, Princess Katharine, Princess Anne of Burgundy, Duke of Burgundy, and their Train.
Queen.
This is the day Alanson sent us word,
He would our Fate determine by the Swords
Which he has hastned, hearing by his Spies
The Plague had so impair'd our Enemies,
That more delay would make our Princes dream
They should not come to kill, but bury them;
And France would be oblig'd for her defence,
Not to their Swords, but to that Pestilence.
4
Since from th'Eternal Pow'r that rod is sent,
Why from his hand take we the punishment?
And this insulting, Madam, makes me fear
Our ruine rather then our triumph near:
Those English Swords on which he sets no price,
Lately cut down our Flower de Luces twice;
And to King Edward's Piety we owe
The miracle that now again they grow.
Queen.
France justly might the English Valour dread,
Were it again by that Great Monarch led;
We fear him less who now that Crown does wear,
His wildness, not his courage, brings him here.
Burgun.
Whilst his prodigious Father was alive,
Some youthful signs of wildness he did give;
But when he early on his Throne was plac'd,
A Kingly Soul his Royal Title grac'd;
And then whatever mis-becoming thing
Liv'd in the Prince, was buried in the King;
Nought should in us low thoughts of him perswade,
Who does himself subdue, and France invade.
Enter a French Lady.
Lady.
The Count of Blamount from the Camp with news
Does wait without, and for admittance sues.
Queen.
Blamount so soon return'd? let him appear.
Ill news is swifter then the wings of fear.
Enter Blamount.
His looks to me a sad account have given.
Where is Alanson?
Blam.
Madam, he's in Heav'n:
That glory cannot be to him deny'd,
Who for his Country liv'd, and for it dy'd.
Queen.
The brave Alanson Dead! by what mischance?
Blam.
By the most signal that e're fell on France.
Queen.
Without disguise the naked truth declare,
Before my grief be turn'd into despair.
Blam.
Last night both Camps so near each other lay,
As we not more for triumph long'd then day;
The mighty Martel led not braver men,
When he at Tours subdu'd the Syracen,
And with the blood wash'd France, then did resort
To the unhappy fields of Agen-Court;
Where many then with joyful shouts did greet
The rising Sun, who ne're should see him set:
A while both Armies on each other gaz'd,
Both at th'intended slaughter seem amaz'd.
Queen.
Could those who oft have bloody Battels won,
Stand long amaz'd at ills which must be done?
Blam.
Wars chearful Musick now fills every Ear,
Whilst death more gaudy did then life appear.
5
That all seem'd Bridegrooms there, and Death the Bride;
The noble order in each squadron seen;
The many Warriours of a haughty meen;
The prouder horses chafing to be rid,
Who breath'd the Combat as their Riders did;
Made all confess that War gave Death a grace,
And has its charms as well as beauty has.
After a little pause they both advance,
One to preserve, th'other to conquer France:
Those who did proudly think the Foe would yield,
Saw him draw up with order in the Field;
And by a King advanc'd, whose hand and head,
All the defects supply'd of those he lead.
Queen.
How! did young Henry dare to meet you then?
We heard diseases had consum'd his men.
Blam.
The courages of all the English dead,
Were to those few then living newly fled:
So thin, so harrast all his Squadrons were,
As we did pity them we us'd to fear;
For it is equally as strange to say,
That they durst fight, as that they won the day:
But Fame can want no theam when she does sing
Of English Swords led by an English King;
Nor was he only in the Battel known
By his bright Armour, which like lightning shone;
But did with nobler marks his Valour grace,
Still being seen where foremost danger was.
Alanson, who observ'd this wondrous King,
Courage to his, and fear to ours did bring;
Made fighting single with him his high aim,
And in a Battel to a Duel came.
Queen.
By an attempt so noble and sublime,
He show'd as much as I believ'd of him.
Blam.
Both Nations at a sight so great and rare,
Their bloody Swords suspended in the Air,
And by a general silence made it known,
They in their Leaders fate would see their own:
But though Alanson did stupendious things,
A Subjects Sword could not resist a Kings;
Angels are Guardians of that Sacred name.
Burgun.
Yet by his death he got a deathless fame.
Blam.
That loss invaded all to that degree,
As we more fought for Death then Victory;
For many Worthies waited on his fall,
The Constable of France, the Admiral,
The Duke of Brabant, and the Duke of Bar;
Promiscuous killing now disgrac'd the War:
6
As now the spacious world cannot afford,
After so many Heroes drown'd in gore,
Unless of English, one brave Worthy more.
Queen.
That Nation still too highly you esteem.
Burg.
Our selves we best excuse in praising them.
Blam.
Now only horrour, death, confusion reigns,
And covers Agen-Courts unhappy plains;
Here Corpses lye, where Squadrons lately stood;
Standards and Ensigns there lye roll'd in blood;
Here woods of Lances o're the Fields are spread,
And dying men lye groaning o're the dead.
Queen.
If truth consents to what you now relate,
From this black day France may her ruine date.
Blam.
This is not all the destiny of France;
The Dukes of Bourbon and of Orleance,
The Lords of Domcourt, Humiere, Harcourt, Salt-
Roy, Fauconbridge, Noel, and Beausiquault,
And many more of signal worth and race,
The Conquerours Triumphal Chariot grace.
But Bondile, who this day first turn'd his back,
In hopes to wash away a stain so black,
Assaulted with a loud and furious cry
Th'unguarded baggage of the Enemy.
The King suppos'd new Troops had took the field,
And order'd straight all Pris'ners to be kill'd:
What Bondile thus at first and last did do,
Made Henry happy, and yet cruel too;
But 'twas a cruelty our selves did cause,
And which his judgement took from safeties laws;
For shameful was our Fate, the Pris'ners there
Surpass'd in number those who Victors were.
Queen.
Could nothing, less then this, Heav'ns wrath abate?
It made us Agents to our own dire Fate.
Burg.
The Destinies were never so severe,
The fault, as well as loss, they make us bear;
And by so strange a ruine make us know,
This Empire to one field her fall may owe.
Were those Renown'd Commanders now alive,
They might the Fortune of lost France revive,
And by their Swords restore her dying Fame.
Blam.
All those are living which I last did name:
The King did rather hazard a gain'd field,
Then suffer Chiefs so noble to be kill'd;
And but with half his Army did advance,
Twice in one day, to act the Fate of France,
Leaving the rest to guard them where they stood.
Burgun.
His Valour sheds, his Mercy spares our blood.
7
Young Tudor, Madam, much renown'd you know,
To whom all France her gratitude does owe;
For he, when all did dangers face decline,
Met it to serve the Princess Katherine;
He 'gainst my will this hated life did save,
And when he heard those orders Henry gave,
Fearing their rigour might extend to me,
Above my hope, or wish, did set me free;
He told me as we parted that he knew,
I had the honour to belong to you.
Bowing to Princess Katherine.
Queen.
'Tis Heav'n has strucken us; and when we know
That hand, who dares want patience for the blow?
My Lord, 'tis needful I resolve with speed
Who shall the fatal Constable succeed.
Burg.
And counsel needful is how far 'tis fit,
After defeat to struggle or submit.
Queen.
Assemble strait. Heav'n does occasion give
Of Mourning, yet allows no time to grieve.
Exeunt Queen, Burgundy, Blamount, Lady.
Prin. An.
Madam, methought when Tudors name you heard,
A new Vermilion in your face appear'd;
That word did raise a trouble there as great,
As you discover'd hearing our defeat:
Though these are signs that Love does for him sue,
Yet to our friendship there is so much due,
That from my height of faith I'll not descend,
I'll rather blame my eyes then doubt my Friend,
And think I saw not that which I did see,
Rather then fear you hide your self from me.
Prin. Kat.
Ah, how this soft concernment shews you just!
For what can be too precious for your trust?
I must confess I blush'd when he was nam'd,
But it was scorn, not love, my face inflam'd,
That any but a King, and Crown'd with Bayes,
Presum'd so high as me his thoughts to raise;
That secret now shall be to you reveal'd,
Which only through your absence was conceal'd:
With so much grief I did your absence mourn,
When to your Fathers Court you did return,
That the same day I to St. Germain went
To give in that retreat my sorrows vent;
A storm o're-took us as we thither past,
Rain made the rising Flood to swell so fast,
That of the bridge it did the mastry get,
An Arch was born away, and we with it.
Prin. An.
Madam, I heard that ev'n that sad mischance
Did frighten you, less then it frighted France.
8
Tudor, whom fortune led that way, descry'd
What many more with vain compassion spy'd;
They at the horrour of my danger wept,
He from the bridge into the River leapt,
And stemm'd the raging Current, till he bore
My breathless body to the neighbouring shore;
Him to the Court this timely service brought,
In whom so many Charms concurring wrought,
As I can scarce without some blushes owne,
That I did grieve he sat not on a Throne;
For to a Princess, who like me would do,
He who a Throne does want, wants all things too.
Prin. An.
Ah Madam! Love, if it be strong and true,
Levels the pow'rful down to those that sue;
And, when by inclination we are steer'd,
Only what that does speak is fully heard.
Prin. Kath.
Tudor soon chang'd his chearful brow at Court;
To unfrequented Groves he did resort;
Whilst others did rejoyce, he sighing mourn'd,
And all his freedom into bondage turn'd:
This new distemper to a habit grew,
His mirth was ever feign'd, his sorrows true:
The cause of this when I desir'd to know,
He made no answer, but did sigh and bow;
By no reply he would his silence break.
Prin. An.
In such a silence he did more then speak.
Prin. Kath.
Ah! so he did; but yet I must confess
I knew not Love could speak, yet hold its peace:
I urg'd to be inform'd; he sigh'd and then
Look'd often on me, and look'd down agen;
Then said, you force me, Madam, to a strait
To dis-obey you, or deserve your hate:
One of these evils does engage me now;
Silence the first, speaking the last will do;
But I implore you will not think it fit
To force me unto speech, then punish it.
Prin. An.
Against your justice, Madam, 'twas a crime
To punish what you did constrain from him.
Prin. Kath.
Then he his passion for me did declare
With words and gestures, which so mournful were,
As strait I did, by my experience, prove,
That pity was no way to bring in Love:
A hundred things he said, but I was so
Offended with my self, and with him too;
First, that his words I had constrain'd from him,
Then that he could be guilty of that crime;
As I forgot ev'n all he did relate
But these few words, which I shall ne're forget;
9
Which strangely in the water first took fire.
Prin. An.
None, Madam, but a Lover will believe
That flames in water can their birth receive.
Prin. Kath.
'Tis true, but those bold words which then he spoke,
Did soon my indignation so provoke,
That never any crime can raise it higher;
I bid him instantly from Court retire;
'Twould grieve your patience if I should declare
All that he said, his trespass to repair;
Let it suffice that after that black night
I never did admit him to my sight;
Nor will I tell you how he sought relief,
And vainly since hath almost dy'd with grief.
Prin. An.
Did you not give him then some sighs by stealth,
And wish his sickly mind a little health?
Prin. Kath.
All that 't had been injustice to deny.
Prin. An.
Sure that was Love?
Prin. Kath.
Oh! no, 'twas Charity.
Love is a flame which nothing can controul;
As souls to bodies are, Love's to the soul;
A pow'r which does all other powers o'return,
And cannot be conceal'd when it does burn.
Had that been Love, which is mistook by you,
Tudor had seen, and I had felt it too;
But term it what you please, it cannot be,
Whilst I have pow'r to rule it, Love in me.
Prin. An.
Love to his height oft by degrees does rise,
Sometimes it storms a bosom by surprize;
Love moves not ever in one constant road,
Oft, like a Child, he acts, then like a God;
And, by your easie ruling him, you may
Mistake his power for what is but his play.
Prin. Kath.
I doubt you'd have me think I am in Love.
Prin. An.
I rather would my fear of it remove.
Prin. Kath.
No, though I were, so much I owe my fame
That to my birth I would resign my flame.
Prin. An.
May I, with safety, build on what you say?
Prin. Kath.
If my own heart deceive me not, you may.
Prin. An.
Then I will tell you something which, perhaps,
If you are cur'd, will hinder your relapse.
When dreadful Henry to this War was bent,
The Royal Bedford to my Father sent
Offers of power and treasure, with design
To make him in this last Invasion join:
My Father to his Burgundy retir'd,
Having rejected what the Duke desir'd;
10
Anjou, Rich Normandy, and Aquitane,
He would, if rendring these might Peace advance,
Perswade in England, and prevail in France.
Prin. Kath.
We then have done th'injurious Henry wrong:
Do all these Provinces to him belong?
Prin. An.
France can no other Title there pretend,
But what, force having got, Arms must defend.
Prin. Kath.
My grief for our defeat shall then grow less;
Since we want justice we should want success.
Prin. An.
But since to me your secrets you declare,
'Tis equal you in mine should have a share.
Ah Madam! do not wonder if my heart,
Which was entirely yours when we did part,
Is from that high and blest condition flown,
I, blushing, say, 'tis now no more my own.
The Duke of Bedford, by the noblest force
That e're subdu'd a heart into remorse,
Did with such joint success act his design,
That I took his, and then resign'd him mine.
Prin. Kath.
Dear Princess, I shall now admire no more
What you have mention'd of Loves art and power;
Nor that so high in that discourse you went,
Since you but spoke your own experiment.
Prin. An.
If, Madam, you had present been to see
The softness of those Charms which conquer'd me;
You'd wonder more that long I held the field,
Then that at last I willingly did yield.
Prin. Kath.
The English Archers may victorious grow,
Where Love begins the conquest with his bow.
Prin. An.
After we had this sacred friendship made,
He told me, though his brother would invade
This Kingdom, to regain what was his due,
Yet the chief conquest he design'd, was you:
He told me too, though England still affords
Beauties resistless as the English Swords,
Yet none of them prevail'd, though ne're so bright,
Like your victorious picture at first sight.
Then he implor'd that when to you I came,
I would prepare you to receive his flame;
A flame which all things else must needs out-do,
Since by him cherish'd and inspir'd by you:
This, Madam, was the cause why I have prest
To find if e're your heart were prepossest;
Let France, by you, be freed from her distress:
This happy union will procure her peace.
Prin. Kath.
If me he lov'd, her blood he then would spare;
Loves gentle voice is never heard in War.
11
Yet, like a King to you he does pretend,
Glory he makes his way, and Love his end.
Prin. Kath.
Where bloud does cry, can I a Lover hear?
Prin. An.
When glory pleads, what then can stop your Ear?
Enter a Lady.
Lady.
Madam, the Council is assembled now,
And e're it sits, the Queen would speak with you.
Prin. Kath.
I come: too long by Love we have been stay'd;
I will consider all that you have said.
Prin. An.
Madam, be pleas'd to think upon it so,
That France to you may her redemption owe.
[Exeunt.
| The History of Henry the Fifth | |