HENRY

Not yet my Cousin, till we be resolved Of some serious matters touching us and France. Sure we thank you. And good my Lord proceed Why the Law Salic which they have in France, Or should or should not, stop us in our claim: And God forbid my wise and learned Lord, That you should fashion, frame, or wrest the same. For God does know how many now in health, Shall drop their blood in approbation, Of what your reverence shall incite us too. Therefore take heed how you impawn our person. How you awake the sleeping sword of war: We charge you in the name of God take heed. After this conjuration, speak my Lord: And we will judge, note, and believe in heart, That what you speak, is washed as pure As sin in baptism. Then hear me gracious sovereign, and you peers, Which owe your lives, your faith and services To this imperial throne. There is no bar to stay your highness claim to France But one, which they produce from Faramount, No female shall succeed in salic land, Which salic land the French unjustly gloze To be the realm of France: And Faramont the founder of this law and female bar: Yet their own writers faithfully affirm That the land salic lies in Germany, Between the floods of Sabeck and of Elm, Where Charles the fifth having subdued the Saxons, There left behind, and settled certain French, Who holding in disdain the Germane women, For some dishonest manners of their lives, Established there this law. To wit, No female shall succeed in salic land: Which salic land as I said before, Is at this time in Germany called Mesene: Thus does it well appear the salic law Was not devised for the realm of France, Nor did the French possess the salic land, Until 400. one and twenty years After the function of king Faramount, Godly supposed the founder of this law: Hugh Capet also that usurped the crown, To fine his title with some show of truth, When in pure truth it was corrupt and nought: Conveyed himself as heir to the Lady Inger, Daughter to Charles, the foresaid Duke of Lorraine, So that as clear as is the summer's Sun, King Pippins title and Hugh Capets claim, King Charles his satisfaction all appear, To hold in right and title of the female: So do the Lords of France until this day, Howbeit they would hold up this salic law To bar your highness claiming from the female, And rather choose to hide them in a net, Then amply to embrace their crooked causes, Usurped from you and your progenitors. We must not only arm us against the French, But lay down our proportion for the Scot, Who will make road upon us with all advantages. We do not mean the coursing sneakers only, But fear the main entendement of the Scot, For you shall read, never my great grandfather Unmasked his power for France, But that the Scot on his unfurnished Kingdom, Came pouring Like the Tide into a breach, That England being empty of defences, Hath shook and trembled at the bruit hereof. We are no tyrant, but a Christian King, To whom our spirit is as subject, As are our wretches fettered in our prisons. Therefore freely and with uncurbed boldness Tell us the Dolphins mind. What treasure Uncle? We are glad the Dolphin is so pleasant with us, Your message and his present we accept: When we have matched our rackets to these balls, We will by Gods grace play such a set, Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler, That all the Courts of France shall be disturbed with chases. And we understand him well, how he comes over us With our wilder days, not measuring what use we made of them. We never valued this poor seat of England. And therefore gave our selves to barbarous licence: As 'tis common seen that men are merriest when they are from home. But tell the Dolphin we will keep our state, Be Like a King, mighty and command, When we do rouse us in throne of France: For this have we laid by our Majesty And plodded lide a man for working days. But we will rise there with so full of glory, That we will dazzle all the eyes of France, I strike the Dolphin blind to look on us, And tell him this, his mock hath turned his balls to gun stones, And his soul shall fit soar charge for the wasteful vengeance That shall fly from them. For this his mock Shall mock many a wife out of their deer husbands. Mock mother's from their sons, mock Castles down, I some are yet ungotten and unborn, That shall have cause to curse the Dolphins scorn. But this lies all within the will of God, to whom we do appeal, And in whose name tell you the Dolphin we are come ̄ king on To venge us as we may, and to put forth our hand In a rightful cause: so get you hence, and tell your Prince, His lest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more then did laugh at it. Convey them with safe conduct: see them hence. We hope to make the sender blush at it: Therefore let our collectio ̄ for the wars be soon provided: For God before, weell check the Dolphin at his father's door. Therefore let every man now task his thought, That this fair Actium may on foot be brought. Now sirs the winds fair, and we will aboard; My Lord of Cambridge, and my Lord of Masham, And you my gentle Knight, give me you thoughts, Do you not think the power we bear with us, Will make us conquerors in the field of France? We therefore have great cause of thankfulness, And shall forget the office of our hands: Sooner then reward and merit, According to their cause and worthiness. Uncle of Exeter, enlarge the man Committed yesterday, that railed against our person, We consider it was the heat of wine that set him on, And on his more advice we pardon him. Oh let us yet be merciful. Alas your too much care and love of me Are heavy orisons gainst the poor wretch, If little faults proceeding on distemper should not be winked at, How should we stretch our eye, when capital crimes, Chewed, swallowed and digested, appear before us: Well yet enlarge the man, though Cambridge and the rest In their deer loves, and tender preservation of our state, Would have him punished. Now to our French causes. Who are the late Commissioners? Then Richard Earl of Cambridge there is yours. There is yours my Lord of Masham. And sir Thomas Grey knight of Northumberland, this same is yours: Read them, and know we know your worthiness. Uncle Exeter I will aboard to night. Why how now Gentlemen, why change you colour? What see you in those papers That hath so chased your blood out of appearance? The mercy which was quit in us but late, By your own reasons is forestald and done: You must not dare for shame to ask for mercy, For your own conscience turn upon your bosoms, As dogs upon their masters worrying them. See you my Princes, and my noble Peers. These English monsters: My Lord of Cambridge here, You know how apt we were to grace him, In all things belonging to his honour: And this vild man hath for a few light crowns, Lightly conspired and sworn unto the practises of France : To kill us here in Hampton. To the which, This knight no less in bounty bound to us Then Cambridge is, haah likewise sworn. But o what shall I say to thee false man, Thou cruel ingrateful and inhumane creature, Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsel, That knewest the very secrets of my heart, That almost mightest a coined me into gold, Wouldst thou a practised on me for thy use: Can it be possible that out of thee Should proceed one spark that might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange, that though the truth does show as grose As black from white, mine eye will scarcely see it. Their faults are open, arrest them to the answer of the law, And God acquit them of their practises. God quit you in his mercy. Hear your sentence. You have conspired against our royal person, Joined with and enemy proclaimed and fixed. And from ̄ his coffers received the golden earnest of our death Touching our person we seek no redress. But we our kingdoms safety must so tender Whose ruin you have sought, That to our laws we do deliver you. Get you therefore hence: poor miserable creatures to your death, The taste whereof, God in his mercy give you Patience to endure, and true repentance of all your deeds amiss: Bear them hence. Now Lords to France. The enterprise whereof, Shall be to you as us, successively. Since God cut off this dangerous treason lurking in our way Cheerly to sea, the signs of war advance: No King of England, if not King of France. Now you Lords of Orleans, Of Bourbon, and of Berry, You see the King of England is not slack, For he is footed on this land already. Well think we Harry strong: And strongly arm us to prevent the foe. From our brother England? If not, what follows? Well for us, you shall return our answer back To our brother England. How yet resolves the Governor of the Town? This is the latest parley weel admit: Therefore to our best mercy give your selves, Or Like to men proud of destruction, defy us to our worst, For as I am a soldier, a name that in my thoughts Becomes me best, if we begin the battery once again I will not leave the half achieved Harflew, Till in her ashes she be buried, The gates of mercy are all shut up. What say you, will you yield and this avoid, Or guilty in defence be thus destroyed? 'Tis certain he is passed the River Some. Constable dispatch, send Montioy forth, To know what willing ransom he will give? Son Dolphin you shall stay in Rone with me. Well, I say it shall be so. How now Flewellen, come you from the bridge? What men have you lost Flewellen? We would have all offenders so cut off, And we here give express commandment, That there be nothing taken from the villages but paid for, None of the French abused, Or abraded with disdainful language: For when cruelty and lenity play for a Kingdom, The gentlest gamester is the sooner winner. Unfold it. What is thy name? we know they quality. Thou dost thy office fair, return thee back, And tell thy King, I do not seek him now: But could be well content, without impeach, To march on to Calais : for to say the sooth, Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much Unto and enemy of craft and vantage. My soldiers are with sickness much infeebled, My Army lessoned, and those few I have, Almost no better then so many French: Who when they were in heart, I tell thee Herald, I thought upon one pair of English legs, Did march three French men's. Yet forgive me God, that I do brag thus: This your heir of France hath blown this vice in me. I must repent, go tell thy master here I am, My ransom is this frail and worthless body, My Army but a weak and sickly Guard. Yet God before, we will come on, If France and such and other neighbour stood in our way: If we may pass, we will: if we be hindered, We shall your tawny ground with your read blood discolour. So Montioy get you gone, there is for your pains: The sum of all our answer is but this, We would not seek a battle as we are: Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it. We are in Gods hand brother, not in theirs: To night we will encamp beyond the bridge, And on to morrow bid them march away. A friend . No sir, I am a Gentleman of a Company. Even so sir. What are you? Oh then thou art better then the King? Harry le Roy. Why so you may say, if a man send his servant As Factor into another Country, And he by any means miscarry, You may say the business of the master, Was the author of his servants misfortune. Or if a son be employed by his father, And he fallen into any lewd Actium, you may say the father Was the author of his sons damnation. But the master is not to answer for his servants, The father for his son, nor the king for his subjects: For they purpose not their death's, when ̄ they crave their sir vices: Some there are that have the gift of premeditated Murder on them: Others the broken seal of Forgery, in beguiling maidens. Now if these outstrip the law, Yet they cannot escape Gods punishment. War is Gods Beadel. War is Gods vengeance: Every men service is the kings: But every men soul is his own. Therefore I would have every soldier examine himself, And wash every moath out of his conscience: That in so doing, he may be the readier for death: Or not dying, why the time was well spent, Wherein such preparation was made. Well, I herd the king, he would not be ransomde. If I live to see that, I'll never trust his word again. Your reproof is somewhat too bitter: Were it not at this time I could be angry. How shall I know thee? My brother Gloucesters voice. Stay Gloucester stay, and I will go with thee, The day my friends, and all things stays for me. Whose that, that wishes so, my Cousin Warwick? Gods will, I would not lose the honour One man would share from me, Not for my Kingdom. No faith my Cousin, wish not one man more, Rather proclaim it presently through our camp, That he that hath no stomach to this feast, Let him depart, his passport shall be , And crowns for convoy put into his purse, We would not die in that men company, That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is called the day of Cryspin, He that outlives this day, and sees old age, Shall stand a tiptoe when this day is nam, And rouse him at the name of Cryspin. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Shall yearly on the vygill feast his friends, And say, to morrow is S. Cryspines day: Then shall we in their flowing bowls Be newly remembered. Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Clarence and Gloucester, Warwick and York. Familiar in their mouths as household words. This story shall the good man tell his son, And from this day, unto the general doom: But we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we bound of brother's, For he to day that sheds his blood by mine, Shall be my brother: be he never so base, This day shall gentle his condition. Then shall he strip his sleeves, and show his skars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispines day: And Gentlemen in England now a bed, Shall think themselves accursed, And hold their manhood cheap, While any speak that fought with us Upon Saint Crispines day. Thou dost not wish more help from ̄ England cousin? What the French retire? Yet all is not done, yet keep the French the field. Lives he good Uncle, twice I saw him down, Twice up again: From helmet to the spur, all bleeding over. I was not angry since I came into France, Until this hour. Take a trumpet Herald, And ride unto the horsemen on yond hill: If they will fight with us bid them come down, Or leave the field, they do offend our sighed: Will they do neither, we will come to them, And make them skyr away, as fast As stones inforced from the old Assyrian slings. Beside, weel cut the throats of those we have, And not one alive shall taste our mercy. Gods will what means this? knowest thou not That we have fined these bones of ours for ransom? Come let us go on procession through the camp: Let it be death proclaimed to any man, To boast hereof, or take the praise from God, Which is his endue. Yes Flewellen, but with this acknowledgement, That God fought for us. Let there be sung, Nououes and to Deum. The dead with charity interred in clay: Weel then to Calais, and to England then, Where never from France, arriude more happier men. May we with right & conscience make this claim Oh God of battles steel my soldiers hearts, Take from them now the sense of rekconing, That the apposed multitudes which stand before them, May not appall their courage. Oh not to day, not to day o God, Think on the fault my father made, In compassing the crown. I Richard's body have interred new, And on it hath bestowed more contrite tears, Then from it issued forced drops of blood: A hundred men have I in yearly pay, Which every day their withered hands hold up To heaven to pardon blood, And I have built two chanceries, more will I do: Though all that I can do, is all too little. God keep me so. Our Herald go with him, And bring us the number of the scattered French. Call yonder soldier hither. How think you Flewellen, is it lawful he keep his oath? Call in the messenger sent from ̄ the Dolphin, And by your aid, the noble sinews of our land, France being ours, weel bring it to our awe, Or break it all in pieces: Either our Chronicles shall with full mouth speak Freely of our acts, Or else Like toonglesse mutes Not worshipped with a paper Epitaph: Now are we well prepared to know the Dolphins pleasure, For we hear your coming is from him. Well the ̄ , we know thee, what should we know of thee? Bid him come in. You see this chase is hotly followed Lords. No sir, I am a Wealchman. I sir, he is my kinsman. I sir. It sorts well with your fierceness. Though it appear a little out of fashion, Yet theres much care in this. Now Master's God morrow, what cheer? Why fear nothing man, the king is frolic. Nay say not so, he is a man as we are . The Violet smells to him as to us: Therefore if he see reasons, he fears as we do. Here is likewise another of mine, And assure thee isle wear it. 'Tis no treason to cut French crowns, For to morrow the king himself will be a clipper. Why all things are ready, if our minds be so. Who hath sent thee now? I prithee bear my former answer back: Bid them achieve me, and then fell my bones. Good God, why should they mock good fellows thus? The man that once did fell the Lions skin, While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him. A many of our bodies shall no doubt Find graves within your realm of France: Though buried in your dunghills, we shall be famed, For there the Sun shall greet them, And draw up their honours reaking up to heaven, Leaving their earthly parts to choke your climb: The smel whereof, shall breed a plague in France : Mark then abundant valour in our English, That being dead, Like to the bullets crasing, Breaks forth into a second course of mischief, Killing in relapse of mortality: Let me speak proudly, Ther's not a piece of feather in our camp, Good argument I hope we shall not fly: And time hath worn us into slouendry. But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim, And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night Thayle be in fresher robes, or they will pluck The gay new clothes over your French soldiers ears, And turn them out of service. If they do this, As if it please God they shall, Then shall our ransom soon be levied. Save thou thy labour Herald: Come thou no more for ransom, gentle Herald. They shall have nought I swear, but these my bones: Which if they have, as I will leave am them, Will yield them little, tell the Constable. Take it brave York. Come soldiers lets away: And as thou pleasest God, dispose the day. I blame you not: for hearing you, I must convert to tears. What new alarm I this? Bid every soldier kill his prisoner. I tell thee truly Herald, I do not know whither The day be ours or no: For yet a many of your French do keep the field. Praised be God therefore. What Castle call you that? Then call we this the field of Agincourt. Fought on the day of Cryspin, Cryspin. 'Tis true Flewellen. No Flewellen, for I am wealch as well as you. Thanks good countryman. Fellow why dost thou wear that glove in thy hat? His enemy may be a gentleman of worth. Well sirrah keep your word. Under what Captain servest thou? Go call him hither. Captain Flewellen, when Alonson and I was Down together, I took this glove off from his helmet, Here Flewellen, wear it. If any do challenge it, He is a friend of Alonsons, And and enemy to me. Flewellen knowest thou Captain Gower? Go call him hither. Follow Flewellen closely at the heals, The glove he wears, it was the soldiers: It may be there will be harm between them, For I do know Flewellen valiant, And being touched, as hight as gunpowder: And quickly will return and injury. Go see there be no harm between them. How now, what is the matter? Let me see thy glove. Look you, This is the fellow of it. It was I indeed you promised to strike. And thou thou hast given me most bitter words. How canst thou make us amends? Uncle, fill the glove with crowns, And give it to the soldier. Wear it fellow, As and honour in thy cap, till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns. Come Captain Flewellen, I must needs have you friends. What men of sort are taken uncle? Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met. And to our brother France, Fair time of day. Fair health unto our lovely cousin Katherine. And as a branch, and member of this stock: We do salute you Duke of Burgundy. No Kate, 'tis unpossible You should love the enemy of France: For Kate, I love France so well, That I'll not leave a Village, I'll have it all mine: then Kate, When France is mine, And I am yours, Then France is yours, And you are mine. No Kate, Why I'll tell it you in French, Which will hang upon my tongue, Like a bride On her new married Husband. Let me see, Saint Dennis be my speed. Quan France et mon. Et vous ettes amoy. Douck France ettes a vous: Et J suyues a vous. No faith Kate not I. But Kate, In plain terms, do you love me? No, can any of your neighbours tell? I'll ask them. Come Kate, I know you love me. And soon when you are in your closet, Yowl question this Lady of me. But I pray thee sweet Kate, use me mercifully, Because I love thee cruelly. That I shall die Kate, is sure: But for thy love, by the Lord never. What Wench, A straight back will grow crooked. A round eye will grow hollow. A great leg will wax small, A curled pate prove bald: But a good heart Kate, is the sun and the moon, And rather the Sun and not the Moon: And therefore Kate take me, Take a soldier: take a soldier, Take a King. Therefore tell me Kate, wilt thou have me? Nay it will please him: Nay it shall please him Kate. And upon that condition Kate I'll kiss you. What says she Lady? If Duke of Burgundy , you would have peace, You must buy that peace, According as we have drawn our articles. Go Lords, and fit with them, And bring us answer back. Yet leave our cousin Katherine here behind. Wilt believe me Kate? 'tis easier for me To conquer the kingdom, the ̄ to speak so much More French. To kiss, to kiss. Oh that 'tis not the Fashion in France, for the maids to kiss Before they are married. Well, weel break that custom. Therefore Kate patience perforce and yield. Before God Kate, you have witchcraft In your kisses: And may persuade with me more, Then all the French Council. Your father is returned. How now my Lords? Why then let this among the rest, Have his full course: And withal, Your daughter Katherine in marriage, Why then fair Katherine, Come give me thy hand: Our marriage will we present solemnise, And end our hatred by a bound of love. Then will I swear to Kate, and Kate to me: And may our vows once made, unbroken be . Now Kate, you have a blunt wooer here Left with you. If I could win thee at leapfrog, Or with vawting with my armour on my back, Into my saddle, Without brag be it spoken, Idem make compare with any. But leaving that Kate, If thou takest me now, Thou shalt have me at the worst: And in wearing, thou shalt have me better and better, Thou shalt have a face that is not worth sunburning. But dost thou think, that thou and I, Between Saint Denis, And Saint George, shall get a boy, That shall go to Constantinople, And take the great Turk by the beard, would Kate ?