 | King Henry V. Or The Conquest of France |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
An Anti-chamber in the English Court.Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.
Canterbury.
My Lord, I'll tell you—That self bill is urg'd,
Which, in the 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.
Ely.
But what prevention?
Cant.
The king is full of grace and fair regard.
Ely.
And a true lover of the holy church.
How now, for mitigation of this bill,
Urg'd by the commons; doth his majesty
Incline to it, or no?
Cant.
He's 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 several and unhidden passages,
Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms,
And generally to the crown 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.
Ely.
I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Audience Chamber.King Henry discovered on his throne. Gloucester, Bedford, Westmorland, Exeter, &c. attending.—[Flourish.]
K. Henry.
Where is my gracious lord of Canterbury?
Exe.
Not here, in presence.
Send for him, good brother.
[Exit a Herald.
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 thoughts, concerning us and France?
Enter Herald, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Bishop of Ely.
Cant.
Heav'n and its angels guard your sacred throne,
And make you long become it.
K. Henry.
We thank you.
My learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
And justly, and religiously unfold,
Why, the law Salic, that they have in France,
Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim.
And, Heav'n 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 Heav'n 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 Heav'n, take heed.
Under which conjuration, speak, my lord.
Cant.
Then hear me, gracious sovereign,
There's no bar
To make against your highness' claim to France,
But this, which they produce from Pharamond;
No woman shall succeed in Salic land:
Which Salic land the French unjustly gloze
To be the realm of France; and Pharamond,
The founder of this law, and female bar.
That the land Salic, lies in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elve;
Nor did the French possess the Salic land,
Until four hundred one and twenty years,
After defunction of king Pharamond,
(Idly suppos'd the founder of this law.)
Besides, their writers say,
King Pepin, who deposed Childerick,
Did hold in right and title of the female.
So do the kings of France, unto this day.
Howbeit, they would hold up this Salic law,
To bar your highness claiming from the female.
K. Henry.
May I, with right and conscience, make this claim?
Cant.
The sin upon my head, dread sovereign:
For in the book of Numbers, it is writ,
When the son dies, let the inheritance
Descend unto the daughter.
Exe.
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, Edward, the Black Prince,
Who, on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
Making defeat on the full power of France:
Whilst his most mighty father, on a hill,
Stood smiling, to behold his lion's whelp
Forage in blood of French nobility.
Glo.
O, noble English, that could entertain
With half their forces, the full power of France,
And let another half stand laughing by,
All out of work, and cold for action!
West.
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,
Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
Glo.
Your brother Kings, and monarchs of the earth,
Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
As did the former lions of your blood.
Exe.
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 lie pavilion'd in the field of France.
O, let their bodies follow my dear Liege,
With blood and sword and fire to win your right.
Cant.
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.
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;
That England, being empty of defence,
Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood.
Exe.
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;
And make his chronicle as rich with praise,
As is the ouzy bottom of the sea
With sunken wreck, and sumless treasuries.
Therefore, to France, my Liege.
Divide your happy England into four;
Whereof take you one quarter into France,
And you with that 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.
[Exit Herald.
Now are we well resolv'd; and by Heaven'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.
Enter Herald, with Constable and Mountjoy the 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.
Const.
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. Henry.
We are no tyrant, but a Christian King;
Therefore, with frank, and with uncurbed plainness,
Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
Const.
Thus, then in few.
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,
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.
A 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're 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 Heaven's grace, play a set
Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
And tell him that we understand him well,
How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
Not measuring what use we made of them.
I never valued this poor seat of England.
But tell the Dauphin, I will keep my state,
Be like a King, and shew my sail of greatness,
When I do rouze me in my throne of France:
For 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.
But this lies all within the will of Heav'n,
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. Henry.
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 thoughts in us but France,
Therefore let our proportions for these wars
Be soon collected, and all thought upon,
That may with reasonable swiftness add
More feathers to our wings: for Heav'n before,
We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
[Flourish.—Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Before Quickly's House in Eastcheap.Enter Corp. Nim, and Lieut. Bardolph, Meeting.
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 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.
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
Nell 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 tir'd mare,
I cannot tell.
Enter Pistol and Quickly.
Bard.
Here comes ancient Pistol and his wife.
Good corporal, be patient here. How now, mine
host Pistol?
Pist.
Base tyke, call'st thou me host? Now by this
hand, I swear I scorn the term; nor shall my Nell
keep lodgers.
Quick.
O, welladay lady, if he be not drawn! Now,
we shall see wilful adultery, and murder committed.
Bard.
Good ancient, good corporal, offer nothing
here.
Nim.
Pish.
Pist.
Pish for thee, Iceland dog; thou prick-ear'd
cur of Iceland.
Quick.
Good corporal Nim, shew thy valour, and
put up thy sword.
Nim.
Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
Pist.
Solus, egregious dog! O viper vile!
The solus in thy most marvellous face,
The solus in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
I do retort the solus in thy bowels;
Nim.
I am not Barbason, you cannot conjure me.
I have an humour to knock you indifferently well; if
you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with
my rapier, as I may, in fair terms, and that's the
humour of it.
Pist.
O, braggart vile, and damned furious wight,
Think'st thou my spouse to get?
I have, and I will hold, the Quondam Quickly,
For th'only she; and pauca, there's enough; go to.
Enter the Boy.
Boy.
Mine host, Pistol, you must come to my master,
and your hostess; he is very sick, and would to
and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very
ill.
Bard.
Away, you rogue.
Quick.
By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding
one of these days; the King has kill'd his heart.
Good husband, come home, presently.
[Exeunt Quick. and Boy.
Bard.
Come, shall I make you two friends? We
must to France together. Why the devil should we
keep knives to cut one another's throats?
Pist.
Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl
on.
Nim.
You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you
at betting?
Pist.
Base is the slave that pays.
Nim.
That now I will have: that's the humour of it.
Pist.
As manhood shall compound, push home.
[Draws.
Bard.
By this sword, he that makes the first thrust,
I'll kill him; by this sword I will.
Pist.
Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
Bard.
Corporal Nim, an thou wilt be friends, be
friends; an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with
me, too; pr'ythee put up.
Pist.
A noble shalt thou have, and present pay,
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
For I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.
Nim.
I shall have my noble?
Pist.
In cash most justly paid.
Nim.
Well then, that's the humour of't.
Enter Quickly.
Quick.
As ever you came of women, come in quickly
to Sir John. Ah, poor heart, he is so shak'd of a
behold. Sweet men, come to him.
[Exit.
Nim.
The King hath run bad humours on the knight,
that's the even of it.
Pist.
Nim, thou hast spoke the right, his heart is
fracted and corroborate.
Nim.
The King is a good King, but it must be as
may; he passes some humours and careers.
Pist.
Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins!
we will live.
[Exeunt.
| King Henry V. Or The Conquest of France | |