Class Book_: - Copyright N?„ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORY OF KING HENRY V. SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORY OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH, Edited, with Notes, BV WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D., FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE. MASS. WITH ENGRA VINGS. NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY I WO Copies rtetwvcu JUL 25 iaub Tn^t % ?, J q OS" ^LASS «- AAfc Nw COPY B. ■ -, : — : : ENGLISH CLASSICS. Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, Litt. D. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, 56 cents per volume. Shakespeare's Works. The Merchant of Venice. Richard III. Othello. Henry VIII. Julius Caesar. King Lear. A Midsummer-Night's Dream. The Taming of the Shrew. Macbeth. All 's Well that Ends Well. Hamlet. Coriolanus. Much Ado about Nothing. The Comedy of Errors. Romeo and Juliet. Cymbeline. As You Like It. Antony and Cleopatra. The Tempest. Measure for Measure. Twelfth Night. Merry Wives of Windsor. Love's Labour 's Lost. The Winter's Tale. King John. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Richard II. Timon of Athens. Henry IV. Part I. Troilus and Cressida. Henry IV. Part II. Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Henry V. The Two Noble Kinsmen. Henry VI. Parti. Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, etc Henry VI. Part II. Sonnets. Henry VI. Part III Titus Andronicus. Goldsmith's Select Poems. Browning's Select Poems. Gray's Select Poems. Browning's Select Dramas. Minor Poems of John Milton. Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome. Wordsworth's Select Poems. Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare's Comedies. Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare's Tragedies. Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, Litt. D. Illustrated. Cloth, 12mo, 50 cents per volume. Copyright, 1877 and 1898, by Harper & Brothers. Copyright, 1905, by William J. Rolfe. King Henry V. W. P. 7 CONTENTS. PAGE Introduction to King Henry the Fifth 9 I. The History of the Play 9 II. The Historical Sources of the Play 8 10 III. Critical Comments on the Play 11 KING HENRY THE FIFTH 21 Act 1 23 " II 38 "HI 57 " IV 80 " V 112 Notes 129 STKEET IN HARFLEUR. INTRODUCTION TO KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. King Henry the Fifth, in the form in which we now have it, was first published in the folio of 1623, where it occupies pages 69-95 m tne division of " Histories." A mutilated and incomplete quarto edition had been printed in 1600 with the following title-page : io KING HENRY THE FIFTH the | CRONICLE I History of Henry the fift, | With his battell fought at Agin Court in | France. Togither with Auntient \ Pistoll. \ As it hath bene sundry times playd by the Right ho?wrable \ the Lord Chamberlai7ie his seruants. | LONDON | Printed by Thomas Creede, for Tho. Milling-] ton, and Iohn Busby. And are to be | sold at his house in Carter Lane, next | the Powle head. 1600. This edition appears to have been hastily gotten up, and was probably compiled from short-hand notes taken at the theatre. It was reprinted in 1602 u by Thomas Creede, for Thomas Pauier," and " sold at his shop in Cornhill, at the signe of the Cat and Parrets, neare the Exchange ;" and again in 1608, "Printed for T. P." The folio must be considered the only authority for the text, though the quartos are occasionally of service in the correction of typographical errors. The date of the play is fixed by a passage in the Chorus of the last act : " Were now the general of our gracious empress — As in good time he may — from Ireland coming," etc. This evidently refers to Lord Essex, who went to Ireland, April 15, 1599, and returned to London, September 28, of the same year. Unless the passage was a later insertion, which is not probable, the play must have been written be- tween those dates. It is not mentioned by Meres in 1598 in the list which includes Richard II, Richard III, Henry IV., and King John* II. THE HISTORICAL SOURCES OF THE PLAY. Shakespeare took the leading incidents of his Henry IV. and Henry V. from an anonymous play entitled " The Fa- mous Victories of Henry the Fifth," which was written at * See the extract from Meres's Palladis Tamia, in our ed. of A Mid- mmmer- Night's Dream, p. 9. INTRODUCTION. j i least as early as 1588,* and had a popularity far beyond its merits ; but he drew his historical materials mainly from Holinshed's " Chronicles of Englande, Scotlande, and Ire- land," as the illustrative extracts from that author in our notes will show. As in the case of Richard II. (see our ed. of that play, p. 14), he doubtless used the second edition of Holinshed, published in 1586-87. III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. [From Gervinus 's " Shakespeare Commentaries" \\ The whole interest of our play lies in the development of the ethical character of the hero. After the poet has deline- ated his careless youthful life in 1 Henry IV., and in 2 Henry IV. has shown the sting of reflection and consideration pierc- ing his soul as the period of self-dependence approaches, he now displays Henry as arrived at the post of his vocation, and exhibits the king acting up to his resolutions for the future. At the very beginning of the play we are at once informed of the utter change which has passed over him. The sinful nature is driven out of him by reflection, the cur- rent of reformation has suddenly scoured away the old faults ; as the wholesome strawberry ripens best " neighboured by fruit of baser quality," so his active practice, his intercourse with lower life and simple nature, has matured in him all those gifts which etiquette and court ceremony would never * It was entered on the Registers of the Stationers' Company, May 14, 1594, to Thomas Creede, as "a booke intituled the Famous Victories of Henrye the Fyft, conteyninge the honorable battell of Agincourt," but it is known that the famous actor Tarlton, who died in 1588, took the part of the Clown in the play. The earliest printed edition that has come down to us bears date in 1598, and has the following title-page : THE I FAMOUS VIC-|tories of Henry the | fifth: | Containing the Honou-|rable Battell of Agin-court : | As it was plaide by the Queenes Maiesties \ Players. | LONDON | Printed by Thomas Creede, 1598. t Shakespeare Commentaries, by Dr. G. G. Gervinus, translated by F. E. Bunnett : revised ed. (London, 1875), p. 340 fol. (by permission). 12 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. have produced in him, and which those now around him per- ceive in him with admiration. The poet expressly tells us, through the prelates who discuss the king in the first scene, that there are no miracles, either in his poetry or in the world, and that the natural grounds for this wonderful change are to be sought for really in the unpromising school of this apparently untutored man. There this many-sidedness was developed which now astonishes them in him, and on ac- count of which he now appears equally acquainted with all things, ecclesiastical and secular, in the cabinet as in the field. He no longer squanders his now valuable time, but weighs it to the last grain ; the curb of mildness and mercy is now placed on his passions, and even foreign lands con- jecture that " his vanities forespent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly." . . . In his courtship and on the day of battle Henry is just as plain a king as if he had " sold his farm to buy his crown." He has shaken off his old dissolute companions, but the remembrances of that simple intercourse are recalled to our mind at every moment. The same inclination to rove about with the common man in his army, the old mildness and fa- miliarity, and the same love for an innocent jest, exist in him now as then, without derogating in the least from his kingly dignity. He leaves his nobles waiting in his tent while he visits the posts of his soldiers ; the old habit of night-watch- ing is of use to him now ; he sounds the disposition of indi- viduals ; he encourages them without high-sounding words °, he fortifies them without ostentation ; he can preach to them and solve moral scruples, and can make himself intelligible to them ; he contrives a trick quite of the old kind in the moment of most gloomy suspense ; like a brother, he bor- rows the cloak of the old Erpingham ; he familiarly allows bis countryman Fluellen to join freely in his conversation INTRO D UC TION. r 3 with the herald; and in his short appeal before the battle he declares all to be his brothers who on this Crispin's day shed their blood with him. This contrast between his repose and calmness and his martial excitement, between his plain homely nature and the kingly heroic spirit which in the moment of action exercises dominion over him, is, however, not the only one in which the poet has exhibited him. The night before and the day during the battle, which form the centre of our play, is a pe- riod so prominent, and one in which such manifold moods, emotions, and passions, are roused and crossed, that the best opportunity was here afforded to the poet for exhibiting to our view this many-sided man in all the richness and the di- versity of his nature. When the mind is quickened, he him- self says, " the organs break up their drowsy grave, and newly move with casted slough and fresh legerity;" and thus is it with him in this great and decisive moment. We see him in a short time alternate between the most different emotions and positions, ever the same master over himself, or we may rather say, over the opportunity and the matter which lie for the moment before him. . . . How popular after his old fashion, and at the -same time how sublime, is his encouragement to the battle ! How calm his last words to the French herald ! How far is he from being over-hasty in giving credit to the victory! When he hears of the touching death of the noble York, how near is he to tears ! and at the same moment, alarmed by a new tumult, how steeled to a bloody command ! how impatiently furious at the last resistance ! and at the moment when vic- tory decides for him, how pious and how humble ! And again, a short time after this solemn elevation of mind, he concludes his joke with Williams, careful even then that no harm should result from it. The poet has continued in the fifth act to show us to the very last the many-sided nature of the king. The terrible warrior is transformed into the merry I 4 AYNG HENRY THE FIFTH. bridegroom, the humorous vein again rises within him ; yet he is not so much in love with his happiness, or so happy in his love, that in the midst of his wooing, and with all his jest and repartee, he would relax the smallest article of the peace which his policy had designed. . . . Throughout the whole play, throughout the whole bearing of the king, sounds the key-note of a religious composure, of a severe conscientiousness, and of a humble modesty. The Chronicle, which extols Henry so highly that it placed him before the poet as an historical favourite, praises the king's piety at home and at every page in his campaign ; Shake- speare accepted this historical hint in no mechanical man- ner, but wrought it appropriately into the characteristics of his hero. The clergy, at the very beginning of the play, call him a true friend of the Church, and have reason to rejoice over his respect for it, as well as over his knowledge of sa- cred things. When he is occupied with the plan of war, he charges the Archbishop of Canterbury with a solemn oath to take heed in his counsel; he "will believe in heart" that what he speaks as to his right to this war is in his " con- science washed as pure as sin with baptism." When he has no thought but France, those to God alone "run before" his business. He receives it as a promising ordinance from God that the treason lurking in his way is "brought to light." He delivers his "puissance into the hand of God, putting it straight in expedition ;" " God before," he says several times, he will come to take his right. He orders his old friend Bar- dolph to be pitilessly executed for robbing a church ; he wishes all such offenders to be cut off; for he well knows that when "lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner." We have seen him previous to the battle in solemn preparation, and engaged in edifying con- versation with his soldiers. His first word on the certainty of the victory is, " Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!" When he reviews the greatness of the victory, he says INTRODUCTION. IS again, "Take it, God, for it is only thine !" And that this is in earnest, he orders even death to be proclaimed to any who may boast of it or take the honour from God. At his tri- umphal entry into London, he forbids the sword and helm, the trophies of his warlike deeds, to be borne before him ; and the poet says expressly of him, in the prologue, what once the prince had said of himself on that day at Shrews- bury over Percy's body — that he was " free from vainness and self-glorious pride, giving full trophy, signal, and ostent, quite from himself to God." The atonement which his father could not attain to, for want of energetic, persevering, inward stimulus, is accomplished by him. In his prayer to God be- fore the battle, when he wishes that " the sense of reckoning" may be taken from his soldiers, and that his father's fault may not be thought upon, he declares that he has " interred anew" Richard's body, has wept over it, and has ordered masses to be said ; that he has five hundred poor in yearly pay "who twice a day their withered hands hold up toward Heaven" for him. The poet, we see plainly, adheres to the character of the age, and invests Henry with all that outward work of repentance which in that day was considered neces- sary for the expiation of a crime. To many he will appear to have gone too far in this, both as regards his hero, who is otherwise of so unshackled a mind, and himself, rising as he does generally so far above the narrow views of his own, to say nothing of older times. But above this objection, also, the poet soars victoriously in those excellent words which he puts into the mouth of the king at the close of that peniten- tial prayer : "More will I do; Though all that I can do is little worth, Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon" [5 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. [From Dowden's " Shakspere? '*] Henry's freedom from egoism, his modesty, his integrity, his joyous humour, his practical piety, his habit of judging things by natural and not artificial standards — all these are various developments of the central element of his character, his noble realization of fact. But his realization of fact produces something more than this integrity, this homely honesty of nature. It breathes through him an enthusiasm which would be intense if it were not so massive. Through his union with the vital strength of the world, he becomes one of the world's most glorious and beneficent forces. From the plain and mirth-creating comrade of his fellow-soldiers he rises into the genius of im- passioned battle. From the modest and quiet adviser with his counsellors and prelates, he is transformed, when the oc- casion requires it, into the terrible administrator of justice. When Henry takes from his father's pillow the crown, and places it upon his own head, the deed is done with no flut- tering rapture of attainment. He has entered gravely upon his manhood. He has made very real to himself the long, careful, and joyless life of his father who had won for him this "golden care." His heart is full of tenderness for this sad father, to whom he had been able to bring so little hap- piness. But now he takes his due, the crown, and the world's whole force shall not wrest it from him : " Thy due from me Is tears, and heavy sorrows of the blood, Which nature, love, and filial tenderness Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously : My due from thee is this imperial crown, Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits, * Shakspere : a Critical Study of his Mind and Art, by Edward Dowden (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 215 fol. (by permission). INTRODUCTION. 1 7 Which God shall guard ; and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force This lineal honour from me." Here is no aesthetic feeling for the " situation," only the profoundest and noblest entrance into the fact. . . . Shortly before the English army sets sail for France, the treason of Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey is disclosed to the king. He does not betray his acquaintance with their de- signs. Surrounded by traitors, he boldly enters his council- chamber at Southampton (the wind is sitting fair, and but one deed remains to do before they go aboard). On the preceding day a man was arrested who had railed against the person of the king. Henry gives orders that he be set at liberty : " We consider It was excess of wine that set him on ; And on his more advice we pardon him." But Scroop and Grey and Cambridge interpose. It would be true mercy, they insist, to punish such an offender. And then, when they have unawares brought themselves within the range of justice, Henry unfolds their guilt. The wrath of Henry has in it some of that awfulness and terror sug- gested by the apocalyptic reference to "the wrath of the Lamb." It is the more terrible because it transcends all egoistic feeling. What fills the king with indignation is not so much that his life should have been conspired against by men on whom his bounty has been bestowed without measure, as that they should have revolted against the loy- alty of man, weakened the bonds of fellowship, and lowered the high tradition of humanity : "O, how hast thou with jealousy infected The sweetness of affiance ! Show men dutiful ? Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? Why, so didst thou : seem they religious ? B i& KING HENRY THE FIFTH. Why, so didst thou : or are they spare in diet, Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, Not working with the eye without the ear, And but in purged judgment trusting neither? Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, To mark the full-fraught man and best indued With some suspicion. I will weep for thee : For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like Another fall of man." No wonder that the terrible moral insistance of these words can subdue consciences made of penetrable stuff; no wonder that such an awful discovery of high realities of life should call forth the loyalty that lurked within a traitor's heart. But though tears escape Henry he cannot relent : " Touching our person seek we no revenge ; But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, Poor miserable wretches, to your death; The taste whereof, God of his mercy give You patience to endure, and true repentance Of all your dear offences !" And having vindicated the justice of God, and purged his country of treason, Henry sets his face to France with the light of splendid achievement in his eyes. On the night before the great battle, Henry moves among his soldiers, and passes disguised from sentinel to sentinel. He is not, like his father, exhausted and outworn by the care- ful construction of a life. If an hour of depression comes upon him, he yet is strong, because he can look through his depression to a strength and virtue outside of and beyond himself. Joy may ebb within him or rise, as it will ; the cur- rent of his inmost being is fed by a source that springs from the hard rock of life, and is no tidal flow. He accepts his INTRODUCTION. Ig weakness and his weariness as part of the surrender of ease and strength and self which he makes on behalf of England. With a touch of his old love of frolic he enters on the quar- rel with Williams, and exchanges gages with the soldier. When morning dawns he looks freshly, and "overbears at- taint," with cheerful semblance and sweet majesty : "A largess universal like the sun His liberal eye doth give to every one, Thawing cold fear." With a prayer to God he sets to rights the heavenward side of his nature, and there leaves it. In the battle Henry does not, in the manner of his politic father, send into the field a number of counterfeit kings to attract away from himself the centre of the war. There is no stratagem at Agincourt; it is "plain shock and even play of battle." If Henry for a moment ceases to be the skilful wielder of resolute strength, it is only when he rises into the genius of the rage of battle : " I was not angry since I came to France Until this instant. — Take a trumpet, herald; Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill: If they will fight with us, bid them come down. Or void the field ; they do offend our sight. If they '11 do neither, we will come to them, And make them skirr away as swift as stones Enforced from the old Assyrian slings. Besides, we '11 cut the throats of those we have, And not a man of them that we shall take Shall taste our mercy." It is in harmony with the spirit of the play, and with the character of Henry, that it should close with no ostentatious heroics, but with the half jocular, whole earnest wooing of the French princess by the English king. King Henry. Give me any gage of thine (iv. i. 196). DRAMATIS PERSONM. King Henry the Fifth. Duke of Gloucester, I , ., _ . ., ^. Duke of Bedford, } brothers to the Kltl S- Duke of Exeter, uncle to the King. Duke of York, cousin to the King. [wick. Earls of Salisbury, Westmoreland, and War Archbishop of Canterbury. Bishop of Ely. Earl of Cambridge. Lord Scroop. Sir Thomas Grey. Sir Thomas Erpingham, Gower, Fluellen, Mac morris, Jamy, officers in King Henry's army. Bates, Court, Williams, soldiers in the same. Pistol, Nym, Bardolph. Boy. A Herald. Charles the Sixth, King of France. Lewis, the Dauphin. Dukes of Burgundy, Orleans, and Bourbon. The Constable of France. Rambures and Grandpre, French Lords. Governor of Harfleur. Montjoy, a French Herald Ambassadors to the King of England. Tsabel, Queen of France. Katherine, daughter to Charles and Isabel. Alice, a lady attending on her. Hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap, formerly Mistress Quickly, and now married to Pistol. Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers., and Attendants. Chorus. Scene: England; afterwards France. THE PRESENCE-CHAMBER (SCENE II.). PROLOGUE. Enter Chorus. Chorus. 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 ! 24 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 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 IO So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram Within this wooden O 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, 2 < 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 : Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth ; For 't is your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years 30 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. [Exit ACT I. SCENE I. 2 - ACT I. cene I. London. An Ante-chamber in the King's Palace. Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely. Canterbury, My lord, I '11 tell you ; that self bill is urg'd, Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, But that the scambling and unquiet time Did push it out of farther question. Ely. Bat how, my lord, shall we resist it now ? Canterbury. 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 I0 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 almshouses 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. Canterbury. 'T would drink the cup and all. 20 Ely. But what prevention ? Canterbury. The king is full of grace and fair regard. Ely. And a true lover of the holy church. Canterbury. 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 26 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, Leaving his body as a paradise To envelope and contain celestial spirits. Never was such a sudden scholar made; Never came reformation in a flood With such a heady currance, 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. Canterbury. 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 honey'd 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, xAnd 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 : ACT I. SCENE I. 27 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. Canterbury. 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 70 Urg'd by the commons? Doth his majesty Incline to it, or no? Canterbury. He seems indifferent, Or rather swaying more upon our part Than cherishing the 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 80 Did to his predecessors part withal. Ely. How did this offer seem receiv'd, my lord? Canterbury. 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 the impediment that broke this off? 90 Canterbury. 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. Canterbury. Then go we in, to know his embassy; 2 8 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. Which I could with a ready guess declare, Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. Ely. I '11 wait upon you, and I long to hear it. \_Exeunt. Scene II. The same. The Presence-chamber. Enter King Henry, Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, War- wick, Westmoreland, and Attendants. King Henry. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury ? Exeter. Not here in presence. King Henry. Send for him, good uncle. Westmoreland. Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? King 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 the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely. Canterbury. God and his angels guard your sacred throne, And make you long become.it! King Henry. Sure, we thank you. My learned lord, we pray you to proceed And justly and religiously unfold io 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 Of what your reverence shall incite us to. 20 Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, How you awake our sleeping sword of war: ACT I. SCENE IT. 29 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 wrong gives edge unto the swords That make such waste in brief mortality. Under this conjuration speak, my lord; For we will hear, note, and believe in heart 30 That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd As pure as sin with baptism. Canterbury. 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 ne succedant:' 'No woman shall succeed in Salique land;' Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze 40 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; W T here Charles the Great, 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 5 o 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 3° KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 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 60 Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French Beyond the river Sal a, in the year Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, 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 Lorraine, sole heir male 70 Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, — To fine his title with some shows of truth, Though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, Convey'd himself as 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 80 That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine : 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; 9° Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law ACT I. SCENE II 3! To bar your highness claiming from the female, And rather choose to hide them in a net Than amply to imbare their crooked titles Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. King Henry. May I with right and conscience make this claim ? Ca?iterbury. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign 1 For in the book of Numbers is it writ, When the man dies, let the inheritance Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, 100 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. no 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 1 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, 120 Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. Exeter. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, As did the former lions of your blood. Westmorela?id. They know your grace hath cause and means and might ; 32 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 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 fields of France. Canterbury. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, 130 With blood and sword and fire to win your right ; Ii 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. King He?iry. We must not only arm to invade the French, But lay down our proportions to defend Against the Scot, who will make road upon us With all advantages. Canterbury. They of those marches, gracious sovereign, i 4Q Shall be a wall sufficient to defend Our inland from the pilfering borderers.. King Henry. 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 \ 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, 150 Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, Girding with grievous siege castles and towns ; That England, being empty of defence, Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. Canterbury. 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 F'rance, And she a mourning widow of her nobles, She hath herself not only well defended, ACT I. SCENE II. 33 But taken and impounded as a stray l6o The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings, And make her chronicle as rich with praise As is the ooze and bottom of the sea With sunken wrack and sumless treasuries. Westmoreland. 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 .70 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. Exeter. It follows then the cat must stay at home : Yet that is but a curst necessity, Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, The advised head defends itself at home; For government, though high and low and lower, '8c Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, Congreeing in a full and natural close, Like music. Canterbury. 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; i gc Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, C 34 KING HENRY TuE FIFTH. 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 2u o Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed 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 consent, 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, As many lines close in the dial's centre ; aio So may a thousand actions, once afoot, End in one purpose, 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. 220 King Henry. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. [Exeunt some Attendants. Now are we well resolv'd ; and, by God's help, And yours, the noble sinews of our power, France being ours, we '11 bend it to our awe, Or break it all to pieces: or there we '11 sit, Ruling in large and ample empery O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms. ACT 1. SCENE II. 35 Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no remembrance over them: Either our history shall with full mouth 230 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. First Ambassador. 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 240 The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? King Henry. 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. First Ambassador. 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, 250 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. King Henry. What treasure, uncle? 36 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. Exeter. Tennis-balls, my liege. King Henry. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; His present and your pains we thank you for. 260 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 wranglet That all the courts of France will be disturb'd With chases. 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 valued this poor seat of England, And therefore, living hence, did give ourself 270 To barbarous license; as 't is 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: 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. 2S0 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 2 «° Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, ACT I. SCENE II. 37 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 Exeter. This was a merry message. King Henry. We hope to make the sender blush at it. Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour 300 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 ; for, God before, We '11 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. 3 io [Exeunt. Flourish. ROOM IN THE FRENCH KING'S PALACE (SCENE IV.). ACT II. PROLOGUE. Enter Chorus. Chorus. Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought ACT IT. PROLOGUE. Reigns solely in the breast of every man. 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 mightst 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 Masham, 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 The abuse of distance ; force a play. 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 4 <3 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, We '11 not offend one stomach with our play. 4Q But, till the king come forth, and not till then, Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. [Exit Scene I. Lo?idon. A Street. Enter Corporal Nym and Lieutenant Bardolph. Bardolph. Well met, Corporal Nym. Nym. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. Bardolph. 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 ; 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. Bardolph. 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. 12 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. Bardolph. 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, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell. 23 Enter Pistol and Hostess. Bardolph. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife : good corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol ! ACT II. SCENE I. 4 , Pistol. Base tike, call'st thou me host ? Now, by this hand, I swear, I scorn the term ; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. 2 8 Hostess. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live hon- estly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. [Nym a7id Pistol draw.] O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we shall see wil- ful adultery and murder committed. Bardolph. Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. Nym. Pish! Pistol. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland ! Hostess. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. 4J Nym. Will you shog off? I would have you solus. Pistol. ' Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile ! The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, And flashing fire will follow. 5