« PreviousContinue »
SCENE-A Room in the French King's Palace at these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme
themselves into ladies' favours, they do always reason themselves out again. What! a speaker is
The Princess Katharine of France, Ladies in at- but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good
Enter King HENRY V.
Fair Katharine, and most fair! Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms, Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart? Kath. Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England.
K. Hen. O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
Kath. Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vat is like me.
K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate: and you are like an angel. I am glad thou canst speak no better English: for, if thou couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king, that thou wouldst think I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say-I love you: then, if you urge me further than to say-Do you in faith? I wear out my suit. Give me your answer: i' faith, do; and so clap hands and a bargain: How say you, lady?
Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, me understand well.
K. Hen. Marry, if you would put me to verses, or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me: for the one, I have neither words nor measure; and for the other, I have no strength in measure, yet reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armour on my back, under the correction of bragging be it spoken, I should quickly leap into a wife: but, before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning, that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee-that I shall die, is true; but-for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places; for
leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow bald a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or rather the sun, and not the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes but keeps his course truly. If thou wouldst have such a one, take me: And take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: And what sayest thou, then, to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee. Kath. Is it possible dat I should love de enemy of France?
K. Hen. No: it is not possible you should love the enemy of France, Kate; but, in loving me, you should love the friend of France; for I love France so well that I will not part with a village of it: I will have it all mine; and, Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours, then yours is France, and you are mine. And therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and say-Harry of England, I am thine: which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal but I will tell thee aloud-England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music, and thy English broken: therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English. Wilt thou have me?
Kath. Dat is as it shall please de roy mon pere. K. Hen. Nay, it will please him well, Kate: it shall please him, Kate.
Kath. Den it shall also content me.
K. Hen. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.
Kath. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez ; ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez vostre grandeur, en baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure; excusez moy, je vous supplie, mon tres puissant seigneur.
K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate. Kath. Les dames, et damoiselles, pour estre baisées devant leur nopces, il n'est pas le coûtume de France.
K. Hen. It is not the fashion for the maids of France to kiss before they are married. O Kate,
Fr. King. Nor this I have not, brother, so
But your request shall make me let it pass.
nice customs curt'sy to great kings. Dear Kate, cher filz Henry, roy d'Angleterre, heritier de you and I cannot be confined within the weak France. list of a country's fashion; we are the makers of manners, Kate: and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouths of all find-faults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently and yielding. [Kissing her.] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them, than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
Enter the French KING and QUEEN, BURGUNDY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER, WESTMORELAND and other French and English Lords.
Bur. God save your majesty! my royal cousin, teach you our princess English?
K. Hen. I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her; and that is good English. Bur. Is she not apt?
K. Hen. Our tongue is rough, coz; and my condition is not smooth; so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in his true likeness. You may, some of you, thank love for my blindness; who cannot see many a fair French city, for one fair French maid that stands in my way. Shall Kate be my wife? Fr. King. We have consented to all terms of
K. Hen. Is't so, my lords of England? West. The king hath granted every article; His daughter, first; and then, in sequel, all, According to their firm proposed natures.
Exe. Only, he hath not yet subscribed this:Where your majesty demands,-That the King of France, having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form, and with this addition, in French,-Notre tres
Let that one article rank with the rest:
Issue to me: that the contending kingdoms
K. Hen. Now welcome, Kate:-and bear me
That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
Q. Isa. God, the best maker of all marriages,
K. Hen. Prepare we for our marriage ;-on
My lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath,
The Play of Henry VI., being comparatively devoid of interest, has been omitted.
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings;
Of Edward's heirs the murtherer shall be.
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY. Brother, good day: What means this armed guard That waits upon your grace?
Clar. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to the Tower. Glo. Upon what cause? Clar. Because my name is George. Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; He should for that commit your godfathers :O, belike, his majesty hath some intent That you should be new christen'd in the Tower. But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know? Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest As yet I do not: But as I can learn, He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, And says, a wizard told him, that by G His issue disinherited should be; And for my name of George begins with G, It follows in his thought that I am he:; These, as I learn, and such-like toys as these, Have mov'd his bighness to commit me now.
Glo. Why, this it is when men are rul'd
'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower;
That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
But the queen's kindred.
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
Glo. We are his subjects and must obey.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
Glo. No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too;
For they that were your enemies are his,
Hust. More pity that the eagle should be mcw'd,
Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home; The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now, by St. Paul, this news is bad indeed. O, he hath kept an evil diet long, And over-much consum'd his royal person: 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. Where is he? in his bed?
Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die,
By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and These nails should rend that beauty from my
When they are gone then I must count my gains. [Exit.
SCENE.-A Street in London.
Enter the corpse of King HENRY THE SIXTH, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady ANNE as mourner.
Anne. Set down, set down, your honourable
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,-
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
Glo. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it
Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint
I'll make a corse of him that disobeys!
1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin
Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I com-
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
You should not blemish it if I stood by:
Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death
Glo. Curse not thyself,fair creature, thou art both. Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes.
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once;
Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops:
I never sued to friend, nor enemy;
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
[He lays his breast open; she offers
Edward; [She again offers at his breast. But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. [She lets fall the sword. Take up the sword again, or take up me. Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,
I will not be thy executioner.
Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
Glo. Then never man was true.
[She puts on the ring.
Glo. That it may please you leave these
To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
SCENE.-A Room in the Tower.
I would not spend another such a night,
Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray
Clar. Methought I had broken from the Tower,
Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too And cited up a thousand heavy times,
To see you are become so penitent.
Glo. Bid me farewell.
'Tis more than you deserve:
And I no friends to back my suit withal,
Hath she so forgot already that brave prince,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
* A small French coin.
During the wars of York and Lancaster
Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive
Brak. Awak'd you not in this sore agony?
O, then began the tempest to my soul!