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SHAKESPEARE'S

KING HENRY THE FIFTH

INTRODUCTION, AND NOTES EXPLANATORY AND CRITICAL.

FOR USE IN SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES.

Rev. henry N. HUDSON, LL.D.

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BOSTON, U.S.A.: PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY 0;^ \

1903 '

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, h\

Henry N. Hudson, in the ofifice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

*

£7-

f^Y

Typography by J. S. Cushino & Co., Boston, U.S.A.

PRESSMORK BY GlNN & CO., BoSTON, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION

History of the Play.

THE Life of Henry the Fifth, as it is called in the folio of 1623, was registered, along with As You Like It, at the Stationers', August 4, 1600, but was locked up from the press under an order ''to be stayed." In respect of ris You Like It the stay seems to have been continued ; but not so in regard to the other, as this was entered again on the 14th of the same month, and was published in the course of that year. The same text was reissued in 1602, and again in 1608. In these editions, known as the quartos' the author's name was not given : the play, moreover, was but about half as long as we have it ; the Choruses, the whole of the first scene, and also many other passages, those too among the best in the play, and even in the whole compass of the the Poet's works, being wanting altogether. All these, besides more or less of enlargement in a great many places,' together with the marks of a careful finishing hand running through the whole, were supplied in the folio of 1623 ; which, accordingly, is our only authority for the text, though the quartos yield valuable aid towards correcting the errors and curing the defects of that copy. . ^

That the issue of 1600 was surreptitious is on all hands allowed. But there has been much controversy whether it was printed from a full and perfect copy of the play as first written, or from a mangled and mutilated copy, such as

4 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

could be made up by unauthorized and incompetent report- ers. Many things might be urged on either side of this question ; but, as no certain conclusion seems likely to be reached, the discussion probably may as well be spared. Perhaps the most considerable argument for the former posi- tion is, that the quarto has in some cases several consecutive lines precisely as they stand in the folio ; while, on the other hand, of many of the longest and best passages in the folio the quarto has no traces whatever. But this is nowise deci- sive of the point either way, because, granting that some per- son or persons undertook to report the play as spoken, it is not impossible that he or they may have taken down some parts very carefully, and omitted others altogether. And the Editors of the folio tell us in their Preface that there were " divers stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors that exposed them."

And here it may not be unfitting to remark that in other cases, as especially in Hamlet, we have strong and even conclusive evidence of the Poet's plays having been carefully rewritten and vastly improved after the original draughts of them had been made. Nor is it unlikely that some of them underwent this process more than once. And the fact is of consequence as refuting what used to be, and perhaps still is, the common notion, that Shakespeare's best workmanship was struck out with little or no labour of reflection and study. Assuredly it was not without severe and patient exercise of thought that he achieved his miracles of poetry and art, and won his place as the greatest of human intellects. We have been taught to think of him as a prodigy of genius going rather by nature and instinct than by reason and purpose, and beating all other men because he could not help it ;

INTRODUCTION. 5

whereas in truth his judgment was fully equal to his genius ; and his greatness stands in nothing else so much as in just that solidity and sobriety of understanding which comes by industry and application, and by making the best use of one's native gifts. And the instance of King Henry the Fifth yields pregnant matter in this behalf; the difference between the quarto and folio copies in that case not being greater than between the first and second quartos of Hamlet. In the Epilogue to King Henry the Fourth the speaker says, " Our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair Catharine of France." Whether this promise was directly authorized by Shakespeare, we cannot positively say, as that Epilogue was probably not of his writing ; but there is little doubt that the play to which it is affixed was written as early as 1597. That the play now in hand was written soon after the date of that promise, is highly probable. On the other hand, in the Chorus to Act v. we have the following :

Were now the general of our gracious Empress — As in good time he may — from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him !

This undoubtedly refers to the Earl of Essex, who went on his expedition against the Irish rebels in April, 1599, and returned in September following. That Chorus, therefore, and probably the others also, was written somewhere be- tween those two dates. The most likely conclusion, then, seems to be, that the first draught of the play was made in 1597 or 1598; that the whole was rewritten, enlarged, and the Choruses added during the absence of Essex, in the Summer of 1599 ; and that a copy of the first draught was

6 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

obtained for the press, fraudulently, after it had been super- seded on the stage by the enlarged and finished copy.

Historic Matter of the Play.

In this play, as in King Henry the Fourth, the historical matter was taken from Holinshed, both the substance and the order of the events being much the same as they are given by the liistorian. The King came to the throne in March, 14 13, being then twenty-six years old. The Parlia- ment with which the play opens was held in the Spring of 14 1 4, and the King's marriage with Catharine took place in the Spring of 1420 ; so that the time of the action is meas- ured by that interval.

The civil troubles which so much harassed the preceding reign naturally started the young King upon the policy of busying his subjects in foreign quarrels ; " that action, hence borne out, might waste the memory of the former days." At the Parliament just mentioned a proposition was made, and met with great favour, to convert a large amount of Church property to the uses of the State ; which put the Clergy upon adding the weighty arguments of their means and counsel in furtherance of the same policy ; inasmuch as they judged that the best way to prevent a spoiling of the Church was by engaging all minds in a transport of patriotic fervour. King Henry derived his claim to the throne of France from Isabella, Queen of Edward the Second, and daughter of Phihp the Fair ; he being the fourth in a direct line of descent from that celebrated woman. This Philip had left two sons, both of whom died without male issue ; whereupon the crown passed to Charles the Fair, the young- est brother of Philip. In effect, the English King was easily

INTRODUCTION. /

persuaded that the SaUque law had no right to bar him from the throne of France ; and ambassadors were sent over to demand the French crown and all its dependencies ; the King offering withal to take the Princess Catharine in mar- riage, and endow her with a part of the possessions claimed ; at the same time threatening that, if this were not done, " he would recover his right and inheritance with mortal war and dint of sword," An embassy being soon after received from France, the demand was renewed, and peremptorily insisted on. The French King being then incapable of rule, the government was in the hands of the Dauphin, who saw fit to play off some merry taunts on the English monarch, referring to his former pranks ; whereupon the latter dis- missed the ambassadors, bidding them tell their master that within three months he would enter France as liis own true and lawful patrimony, '•' meaning to acquire the same, not with big words, but with the deeds of men."

This took place in June, 1415. Before the end of July the King's preparations were complete, and his army landed at Harfleur on the 15th of August. By the 226. of Septem- ber the town was brought to an unconditional surrender, and put in the keeping of an English garrison. The English army was now reduced to about half its original numbers ; nevertheless the King, having first challenged the Dauphin to single combat, and getting no answer, took the bold resolution of marching through several provinces to CahisJ After a slow and toilsome march, during which they suffered much from famine and hostile attacks, the army came within sight of Agi^court, where the French were strongly posted, so that Henry must either surrender or cut his way through them. The French army spent the following night in revelry and debate, and in fixing the ransom of King Henry and his

8 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

nobles. The night being cold, dark, and rainy, many fires were kindled in both camps ; and the English, worn out with labour, want, and sickness, passed the hours in anxious preparation, making their wills and saying their prayers, and hearing every now and then peals of laughter and merriment from the French lines. During most of the night the King was moving about among his men, scattering words of com- fort and hope in their ears, and arranging the order of battle ; and before sunrise he had them called to matins, and from prayers led them into the field. * From the confident bearing of the French it was supposed they would hasten to begin the fight, but when it was found that they kept within their lines, the King gave order to advance upon them. The battle continued with the utmost fury for three hours, and resulted in the death of ten thousand Frenchmen, five hun- dred of whom had been knighted the day before. Some report that not above twenty-five of the English were slain ; others affirm the number to have been not less than five or six hundred.

The news of this victory caused infinite rejoicing in Eng- land, and the King soon hastened over to receive the con- gratulations of his people. When he arrived at Dover, the crowd plunged into the waves to meet him, and carried him in their arms from the vessel to the beach : all the way to London was one triumphal procession : Lords, Commons, Clergy, Mayor, Aldermen, and citizens flocked forth to wel- come him : pageants were set up in the streets, wine ran in conduits, bands of children sang his praise ; and, in short, the whole population were in a perfect ecstasy of joy.

During his stay in England, the King was visited by sev- eral great personages, the Emperor Sigismund being one of them, who came to mediate a peace between him and

INTRODUCTION. 9

France. The Emperor was entertained with great magnifi- cence, but his mission accompHshed nothing to the purpose. After divers attempts at a settlement by negotiation, the King renewed the war in 141 7, and in August landed in Normandy with an army. From that time he had an almost uninter- rupted career of conquest till the Spring of 1420, when all his demands were granted, and himself publicly affianced to the Princess Catharine.

" From this sketch it may well be judged that the matter was not altogether fitted for dramatic use, as it gave too little scope for those developments of character and passion v/herein the interest of the serious drama mainly consists. For, as Schlegel remarks, " war is an epic rather than a dramatic subject : to yield the right interest for the stage, it must be the means whereby something else is accom- plished, and not the last aim and substance of the whole." And perhaps it was a sense of this unfitness of the matter for dramatic use that led the Poet, upon the revisal, to pour through the work so large a measure of the lyrical element, thus penetrating and filling it with the efficacy of a grand national song of triumph. Hence comes it that the play is so thoroughly charged with the spirit and poetry of a sort of jubilant patriotism, of which the King himself is probably the most eloquent impersonation ever delineated. Viewed in this light, the piece, however inferior to others in dramatic effect, is as perfect in its way as any thing the Poet has given us. And it has a peculiar value as indicating what Shake- speare might have done in other forms of poetry, had he been so minded ; the Choruses in general, and especially that to the fourth Act, being unrivalled in spirit, clearness, and force. — Of course the play has its unity in the hero ; who is never for a moment out of our feelings : even when

lO KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

he is most absent or unseen, the thought and expression still relish of him ; and the most prosaic parts are touched with a certain grace and effluence from him.

Why Palstaff is not Introduced.

For some cause or other, the promise, already quoted, touching the continuation of Sir John was not made good. Falstaff does not once appear in the play. I suspect that, when the author went to planning the drama, he saw the impracticability of making any thing more out of him ; while there was at least some danger lest the part should degenerate into clap-trap. And indeed the very fact of such a promise being made might well infer a purpose rather too theatrical for the just rights of truth and art. At all events, Sir John's dramatic office and mission were clearly at an end when his connection with Prince Henry was broken off; the design of the character being to explain the Prince's wild and riotous courses. Besides, Falstaff must have had so much of manhood in him as to love the Prince, else he were too bad a man for the Prince to be witli ; and when he was so sternly cast off, the grief of this wound must in all reason have sadly palsied his sport- making powers. To have continued him with his wits shattered or crippled, had been flagrant injustice to him ; to have continued him with his wits sound and in good trim, had been something unjust to the Prince.

To be sure, Falstaff repenting and reforming might be a much better man ; but in that capacity he was not for us. In such a man as he has been, the process of repentance must be secret, else it would not be edifying ; and to set it forth upon the stage as matter of public amusement, were

INTRODUCTION. II

a clear instance of profanation. Such a thing ought never to be shown at all, save as it transpires silently in the fruits of an amended life. So that the Poet did well to keep Falstaff in retirement where, though his once matchless powers no longer give us pleasure, yet the report of his sufferings gently touches our pity, and recovers him to our human sympathies. And when at last the Hostess tells us "the King has killed his heart," what a volume of redeem- ing matter is suggested concerning him 1 We then for the first time begin to respect him as a man, because we see that he has a heart as well as a brain ; and that his heart is big and strong enough to outwrestle his profligacy, and give death the advantage of him. And it is obser\'able that those who see much of him, although they do not respect him, and can but stand amazed at his overpowering freshets of humour, nevertheless get strongly attached to him. This is especially the case with that strangely-interesting crea- ture, Mrs. Quickly ; and now we can hardly choose but think the better both of- Falstaff and of Bardolph, when, the former having died, and a question being raised as to where he has gone, the latter says, " Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in Heaven or in Hell ! " In Quickly's account of his last moments there is a pathos to which I know of nothing similar, and which is as touching as it is peculiar. It is in Shakespeare's choicest vein of humour. — His make-up being so original, and so plenipo- tent in wit and humour, it was but natural that Sir John, upon his departure, should leave some audible vibrations in the air behind him. The last of these dies away upon the ear when Fluellen uses him to point a moral ; and this reference, so queerly characteristic of the speaker, is abun- dantly grateful as serving to start up a swarm of laughing memories.

12 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

The Comic Characters.

In the comic portions of this play we have a fresh illus- tration of the Poet's versatility and range of genius. There is indeed nothing here that comes up to the earlier scenes at Eastcheap : so much is implied in the absence of Falstaff ; for nothing else in the comic line can be expected to equal that delineation. But Hostess Quickly reappears as Mrs. Pistol, the same character, but running into an amusing variety of development : the swaggering Pistol is also the same as before, only in a somewhat more efflorescent stage ; ranting out with greater gust than ever the picked-up fustian of the bear-garden and the play-house ; a very fuligi- nous pistol — without fire : Bardolph, too, with his "face all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire," but advanced in rank, and carrying a sense of higher importance. With these we have an altogether original addition in Cor- poral Nym, a delineation of low character in the Poet's most realistic style ; with a vein of humour so lifelike as to seem a literal transcript from fact ; while the native vulgarity of the man is kept from being disgusting by the freshness and spirit with which his characteristic traits are delivered.

These three good-for-nothing profligates are a fitting exam- ple of the human refuse and scum which lately gravitated round Sir John ; and they serve the double purpose of car- rying into the new scenes the memory of the King's former associations, and also of evincing the King's present severity and rectitude of discipline. They thus help to bridge over the chasm, which might else appear something too abrupt, between what the hero was as Prince of Wales and what he is as King : therewithal their presence shows him acting out the purpose, which he avowed at our first meeting with him,

INTRODUCTION. 1 3

of imitating the Sun, who causes himself to be more won- dered at

By breaking through the foul and ugly mists And vapours that did seem to strangle him.

That some such clouds of vileness, exhaled from the old haunts of his discarded life, should still hang about his path, was natural in the course of things, and may be set down as a judicious point in the drama.

The Boy who figures as servant to ''these three swashers" is probably the same whom we met with as Page to Falstaff in the preceding play. His arch and almost unconscious shrewdness of remark was even then a taking feature ; and it encouraged the thought of his having enough healthy keen- ness of perception to ward off the taints and corruptions that ))eset him. And he now translates the follies and vices of his employers into apt themes of sagacious and witty reflection, touching at every point the very pith of their distinctive fea- tures. The mixture of penetration and simplicity with which he moralizes their pretentious nothings is very charming. Thus Pistol's turbulent vapourings draw from him the sage remark, "I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart : but the saying is true. The C7npty vessel makes the greatest sound. Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring Devil i' the old play, and they are both hang'd ; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously." Shakespeare specially delights in thus en- dowing his children and youngsters with a kind of unsophis- ticated shrewdness, the free outcome of a native soundness that enables them to walk unhurt amid the contagions of bad example ; their own minds being kept pure, and even fur- thered in the course of manhood, by an instinctive oppug- nance to the shams and meannesses which beset their path.

14 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

But the comic life of the drama is mainly centred in a very different group of persons. Fluellen, Jamy, and Mac- morris strike out an entirely fresh and original vein of en- tertainment ; and these, together with Bates and Williams, aptly represent the practical, working soldiership of the King's army. The conceited and loquacious Welshman, the tenacious and argumentative Scotchman, the hot and im- pulsive Irishman, with all whose nations the English have lately been at war, serve the further purpose of displaying how smoothly the recent national enmities have been recon- ciled, and all the parties drawn into harmonious co-operation, by the King's inspiring nobleness of character, and the catching enthusiasm of his enterprise. All three are as brave as lions, thoroughly devoted to the cause, and mutually emu- lous of doing good service ; each entering into the work with as much heartiness as if his own nation were at the head of the undertaking. All of them too are completely possessed with the spirit of the occasion, where 'Hionour's thought reigns solely in the breast of every man" ; and as there is no swerving from the line of earnest warlike purpose in quest of any sport or pastime, so the amusement we have of them results purely from the spontaneous working-out of their innate peculiarities ; and while making us laugh they at the same time win our respect, their very oddities serving to set off their substantial manliness.

Fluellen is pedantic, pragmatical, and somewhat queru- lous, but withal a thoroughly honest and valiant soul. He loves to hear himself discourse touching " the true discipline of the wars," and about " Alexander the Pig," and how " For- tune is painted plind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is plind ; and she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is

INTRODUCTION. jt

turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation " : but then he is also prompt to own that " Captain Jamy is a mar^ vellous falorous gentleman, and of great expedition and knowledge m th' aunchient wars" ; and that "he will main- tani his argument as well as any military man in the 'orld, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans." He is mdeed rather easily gulled into thinking Pistol a hero on hearing him -utter as prave 'ords at the pridge as you shall see m a Summer's day": this lapse, however, is amply squared when he cudgels the swagger out of the "counterfeit rascal," and persuades him to eat the leek, and then makes him accept a groat to " heal his proken pate " ; which is one of Shakespeare's raciest and most spirited comic scenes Herewith should be noted also his cool discretion in putting up with the mouthing braggart's insolence, because the time and place did not properly allow his resenting it on the spot • and when he calls on him to -eat his victuals," and gives him the cudgel for sauce to it; and tells him, "You called me yesterday mountain-squire, but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree " ; there is no mistaking the timber he IS made of.

On another occasion, Fluellen sharply reproves one of his superior officers for loud-talking in the camp at night • - If you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pom- pey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle nor pibble-pabble in Pompey's camp " • and the King, overhearing this reproof, hits the white of his char- acter when he says to himself.

Though it appear a Httle out of fashion,

There is much care and valour in the Welshman.

But perhaps the man's most characteristic passage is in his

l6 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

plain and downright style of speech to tlie King himself: the latter referring to the place of his own birth, which was in Wales, addresses him as " my good countryman," and he replies, " I am your Majesty's countryman, I care not who know it ; I will confess it to all the 'orld : I need not be ashamed of your Majesty, praised be Got, so long as your Majesty is an honest man." On the whole, Fluellen is a capital instance of the Poet's consideration for the rights of manhood irrespective of rank or title or any adventitious regards. Though a very subordinate person in the drama, there is more wealth of genius shown in the delineation of him than of any other except the King.

Characteristics of the King".

The delineation of the King has something of peculiar interest from its personal reladon to the author. It em- bodies the Poet's ethics of character. Here, for once, he relaxes his strictness of dramatic self-reserve, and lets us directly into his own conception of what is good and noble : in his other portraits we have the art and genius of the poet ; here, along with this, is also reflected the conscience and heart of the man.

The King is the most complex and many-sided of all Shakespeare's heroes, with the one exception of Hamlet ; if indeed even Hamlet ought to be excepted. He is great alike in thought, in purpose, and in performance ; all the parts of his character drawing together perfectly, as if there were no foothold for distraction among them. Truth, sweet- ness, and terror build in him equally. And he loves the plain presence of natural and homely characters, where all is genuine, forthright, and sincere. Even in his sternest

INTRODUCTION. 1/

actions as king, he shows, he cannot help showing, the mo- tions of a brotherly heart : there is a certain grace and suavity in his very commands, causing them to be felt as benedictions. To be frank, open, and affable with all sorts of persons, so as to call their very hearts into their mouths, and move them to be free, plain-spoken, and simple in his company, as losing the sense of inferior rank in an equality of manhood, — all this is both an impulse of nature and a rule of judgment with him. Nothing contents him short of getting heart to heart with those about or beneath him : all conventional starch, all official forms, all the facings of pride, that stand in the way of this, he breaks through; yet he does this with so much natural dignity and ease, that those who see it are scarcely sensible of it : they feel a peculiar graciousness in him, but know not why. And in his practical sense of things, as well as in his theory, inward merit is the only basis of kingly right and rule : yet he is so much at home in this thought, that he never emphasizes it at all ; because he understands full well that such merit, where it really lives, will best make its way when left to itself, and that any boasting or putting on airs about it can only betray a lack of it.

Thus the character of this cro\\Tied gentleman stands together in that native harmony and beauty which is most adorned in being unadorned. Amd his whole behaviour appears to be governed by an instinctive sense of this. There is no simulation, no disguise, no study for appear- ances, about him : all got-up dignities, any thing put on for effect, whatever savours in the least of sham or shoddy, is his aversion ; and the higher the place wliere it is used, the more he feels it to be out of place ; his supreme delight being to seem just what he is, and to be just what he seems.

l8 KING HE^IRY THE FIFTH.

In Other words, he has a steadfast, hving, operative faith in the plenipotence of truth : he wants nothing better ; he scorns to rely on any thing less : this is the soul of all his thoughts and designs. The sense of any discrepancy be- tween his inward and his outward parts would be a torment to him. Hence his unaffected heartiness in word and deed. Whatsoever he cannot enter into with perfect wholeness and integrity of mind, that he shrinks from having any thing to do with. Accordingly in all that flows from him we feel the working of a heart so full that it cannot choose but overflow. Perhaps indeed he has never heard it said that " an honest man's the noblest work of God"; perhaps he has never even thought it consciously ; but it is the core of his prac- tical thinking ; he lives it, and therefore knows it by heart, if not by head.

This explains what are deemed the looser parts of his conduct while Prince of Wales. For his character, through all its varieties of transpiration in the three plays where he figures, is perfectly coherent and all of a piece. In the air of the Court there was something, he hardly knew what, that cut against his grain ; he could not take to it. His father was indeed acting a noble part, and was acting it nobly ; at least the Prince thought so : still he could not but feel that his father was acting a part. Dissimulation, artifice, oflicial fiction, attentiveness to show, and all that course of dealing where less is meant than meets the ear, were too much the style and habit of the place : policy was the method, astute- ness the force, of the royal counsels ; and plain truth was not deep enough for one who held it so much his interest to hoodwink the time. Even the virtue there cherished was in great part a made-up, surface virtue ; at the best there was a spice of disingenuousness in it. In short, the whole

INTRODUCTION. I9

administration of the State manifestly took its shape and tone from the craft of the King, not from the heart of the man.

To the Prince's keen eye all this was evident, to his healthy feelings it was offensive ; he craved the fellowship of something more fresh and genuine ; and was glad to get away from it, and play with simpler and honester natures, where he could at least be frank and true, and where his spirits might run out in natural freedom. " Covering discre- tion with a coat of folly " was better in his sense of things than to have his native sensibilities smothered under such a varnish of solemn plausibility and factitious constraint. Even his inborn rectitude found a more congenial climate where no virtue at all was professed, and where its claims were frankly sported off, than where there was so much of sinister craft and indirection mixed up with it : the reckless and spontaneous outpourings of moral looseness, nay, the haunts of open-faced profligacy, so they had some sparkling of wit and raciness of humour in them, were more to his taste than the courts of refined hypocrisy and dissimulation, where politicians played at hide-and-seek with truth, and tied up their schemes with shreds of Holy Writ.

His Intercourse with Palstaff.

Still it should be noted withal, that during his intercourse with Falstaff the Prince was all the while growing better, whereas Falstaff was daily gro^ving worse. This was because the former was secretly intent on picking out the good, the latter the evil, of that intercourse. With the one it was a process of free and generous self-abandon ; with the other, of greedy and sensual self-seeking. So the Prince went into the Gads-hill robbery merely as a frolic ; the jest of the thing

20 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

was what he looked to ; and he took care to have all the money paid back to the losers. On the other hand, Fal- staff's sole thought was to snatch the means of self-indul- gence ; and so the act was all of a piece with his cheating the Hostess out of her hard-earned cash by practising on her simple-hearted kindness ; and with his laying a plot to swindle Shallow, expressly on the ground that, "if the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of Nature but I may snap at him."

And it seems to me a very mark-worthy point in that great delineation, that while Falstaff was thus preparing for those darker villainies, the Prince was silently feeding the nobler mind which in due time prompted an utter repudia- tion of Sir John. At all events, whatever perils there might be in such companionship, I must needs think that even in the haunts of Eastcheap, as Shakespeare orders them, the Prince had a larger and richer school of practical wisdom ; that he could there learn more of men, of moral good and evil, could get a clearer insight of the strengths and weaknesses of the human heart, and touch more springs of noble thought and purpose, than in any college of made-up appearances, where truth is so adulterated with cunning, that the mind insensibly loses its simplicity, and sucks in perversion under the names of dignity and prudence.

Accordingly, I suppose the Prince's course in this matter to have grown mainly from the one pregnant fact, that his tongue could not endure the taste of falsehood, nor his hand the touch of fraud. And because, from his fulness of inward worth, he must and would be true, and rejoiced in what was simple and canditl and direct, and hated all disguise and pretence and make-believe, therefore his mind on all sides moved in contact with the truth and life of thinijs. Thus

INTRODUCTION. 21

the dangerous experiences he had with revellers and make- sports were to him a discipline of virtue and wisdom ; he found at least more of natural sap in them than in the walk- ing costumes from which they withdrew him : the good that was in them he could retain, the ill he could discard, because the former had something in him to stick upon, which the latter had not : and he knew that the noblest fruit would grow larger and ripen better in the generous soil where weeds also grew, than in the dry enclosures where nature and soul- power were repressed, to make room for craft-power and artifice. Yet even then, as often as he had any manly work to do, an answering spirit of manliness was forthwith kin- dled within him, and the course of riot and mirth was instantly shaken off as at the touch of a stronger affinity. To apply one of Bacon's fine sayings, when once his mind had placed before it noble aims, it was immediately surrounded not only by the virtues, but by the gods.

The Prince knew himself to be under a cloud of ill thoughts and surmises ; that he was held in slight esteem by his companions, his kindred, and his foes ; that even Pointz put a bad construction on his behaviour ; that his brothers gave him up, and his father viewed him with reproach and distrust ; that in the glory of Hotspur's deeds himself was quite eclipsed ; that every man was forethinking him a hope- less reprobate, and was shaking the head at the sound of his name : but all this did not appear to move him ; still he seemed unconcerned, and intent only on playing out his game ; untouched with compunctious visitings, and digesting his shames as quietly as if he were not aware of them.

This seeming insensibility was because he had at bottom the strength of a good conscience, and a firm trust in the might of truth : "rotten opinion" did not inwardly gall him,

22 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

because he felt sure that in due time he should raze it out, and was content to abide his time. He had tried himself in noble work, and knew how sweet was the conscience of hav- ing done it like a man, and also knew that his inner mind on this score was a profound secret to those about him : the imputation of certain faults did not worry him, because he knew it was not really deserved ; yet he was far from blam- ing others for it, because he also knew it seemed to be deserved ; and in his modest disdain of show he could qui- etly face the misconstructions of the hour, and remain true to himself in the calm assurance that all would come right in the end. But especially his course of life and the ill repute it drew upon him exempted him from the pestilence of lordly flatterers and buzzing sycophants ; and he might well deem the scenes of his mirth to be health and purity itself in com- parison with an atmosphere sweetened with that penetrating defilement : if there was a devil in the former, it was at least an undisguised devil ; which was vastly better than a devil sugared over so as to cheat the taste, and seduce the moral sentinels of the heart.

His Moral Complexion.

•-^The character of Shakespeare's Henry the Fifth may almost be said to consist of piety, honesty, and modesty. And he embodies these qualities in their simplest and purest form ; all sitting so easy and natural in him that he thinks not of them. Then too, which is well worth the noting, they so draw and work together, that each may be affirmed of the others ; that is, he is honest and modest in his piety, pious and modest in his honesty ; so that there is nothing obtrusive or showy in his acting of these virtues : being solid and true, they are therefore much within and little without,

INTRODUCTION. 23

and are perfectly free from any air of pretence or design. And all the other manly virtues gather upon him in the train of these ; while, as before remarked, at the centre ot the whole stands a serene faith in the sufficiency of truth.

The practical working of this choice composure is well shown in what happened at the killing of Hotspur. No sooner had Prince Henry slain the valiant Percy than he fell at once to doing him the offices of pious and tender rev- erence ; and the rather, forasmuch as no human eye witnessed the act. He knew that the killing of Hotspur would be enough of itself to wipe out all his shames, and " restore him into the good thoughts of the world again" ; nevertheless he cheerfully resigned the credit of the deed to Falstaff. He knew that such a surreptitious honour would help his old companion in the way wherein he was most capable and needy of help ; while, for himself, he could forego the fame of it in the secret pledge it gave him of other and greater achievements : the inward conscience thereof sufficed him ; and the sense of having done a generous thing was dearer to him than the beguiling sensation of " riding in triumph on men's tongues." This noble superiority to the breath of present applause is what most clearly evinces the solidity and inwardness of his virtue.

Yet in one of his kingliest moments he tells us, '•' If it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive." But honour is with him in the highest sense a social conscience, and the rightful basis of self-respect : he deems it a good chiefly as it makes a man clean and strong within, and not as it dwells in the fickle breath of others. As for that conventional figment which small souls make so much ado about, he cares little for it, as knowing that it is often got without merit, and lost without deserving. Thus the

24 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

honour he covets is really to deserve the good thoughts of men : the inward sense of such desert is enough : if what is fairly his due in that kind be withheld by them, the loss is theirs, not his.

Another characteristic article of his creed is that "in peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility." In his former days, during the intervals of high work, he was a spendthrift of his time, and cared mainly to pass it away from the pressure of irksome and benumbing constraint ; but, now that high work claims all his hours, " ease from this noble miser of his time no moment steals " ; and he pushes ahead as one

Who, not content that former worth stand fast, Looks forward, persevering to the last, From well to better, daily self-surpast.

In his clear rectitude and piety of purpose, he will not go to war with France till he believes rehgiously and in his conscience that he has a sacred right to the French crown, and that it would be a sin against the divinely-appointed order of human society not to prosecute that claim. This point settled, he goes about the task as if his honour and salvation hung upon it. And in putting it through he is at once collected and eager, gentle and terrible ; full alike of warlike energy and of bland repose : his faith in the justice of his cause and in the Divine support renders him both earnest and tranquil ; and he alternates with majestic grace between the stirrings of his plain homely nature and of his kingly heroic spirit, or blends them both in one as the oc- casion speaks.

The King, however, has one conspicuous lapse from mod- esty. The pompous brags of the French spouted through

INTRODUCTION. 2$

their Herald betray him into a brief but rather high strain of bragging, as if he had caught the disease of them : but he presently catches himself in it and chides himself for it : the words nauseate him, and he forthwith spits them out ; and he is disgusted with himself till he has washed out the taste of them with repentance. So that the result just proves how sound and sincere that virtue is in him. At the same time, with characteristic impulsive frankness, he dis- closes to the enemy the badness of his own plight :

My people are with sickness much enfeebled ; My numbers lessen'd, and those few I have Almost no better than so many French.

Nor is this a thoughtless act ; for in the same breath he owns that " 'tis no wisdom to confess so much unto an enemy of craft and vantage " ; but then it is the simple truth, and truth is good enough for him : moreover his frankness, whether he means it so or not, helps him in the end ; for it has the effect of dissolving still further the bands of order among the French, making them more negligent, presump- tuous, and giddy than ever.

Nor is he wanting in the qualities of a discreet and pru- dent general. His quick and circumspective eye takes in all the parts of military duty. In his method, cool strategic judgment goes hand in hand with daring impetuous cour- age. He understands, none better, the requirements of sound pohcy in war. Justice and humanity to non-com- batants are cardinal points of discipline with him, and this not only as according with his temper, but as helpers to success. Besides, he looks upon the French people as his own, and therefore will not have them wronged or oppressed by his soldiers. Bardolph and Nym are hanged for theft

26 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

and sacrilege, and he " would have all such offenders so cut off"; and he gives express charge that '"'nothing be taken but paid for ; none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful language " ; his avowed reason being, that '• when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner."

His Frank Human-Heartedness.

But, with all his stress of warlike ardour and intentness, his mind full of cares, thoughtful, provident, self-mastered as he is, his old frank and childlike playfulness and love of harmless fun still cling to him, and mingle genially in his working earnestness. Even in his gravest passages, with but one or two exceptions, as in his address to the conspirant lords, there is a dash of jocose humour that is charmingly reminiscent of his most jovial and sportive hours. When " consideration like an angel came, and whipp'd the offend- ing Adam out of him," it put no stiffness or sourness into his manners, nor had any effect towards withering him up from being still the prince of good fellows. His spirits are none the less brisk and sprightly for being bound in with the girdle of temperance and conscientious rectitude. He can be considerate and playful too ; self-restrained and run- ning over with fresh hilarity at the same time.

Perhaps the fairest display of his whole varied make-up is in the night before the battle of Agincourt, when, wrap- ping himself in a borrowed cloak, he goes unrecognized about the camp, allaying the scruples, cheering the hearts, and bracing the courage of his men. His free and kindly nature is so unsubdued and fresh, that he craves to be a man among his soldiers, and talk familiarly with them face to face, which he knows could not be if he appeared among

INTRODUCTION. 27

them as King. Here too his love of plain unvarnished truth asserts itself: he does not attempt to disguise from himself or from them the huge perils of their situation : he owns that the odds are fearfully against them ; because he trusts that all this, instead of appalling their hearts, will rather serve, as indeed it does, to knit up their energies to a more resolute and strenuous effort. The greater the danger they are in, the greater should their courage be, — that is the principle he acts upon, and he has faith that they will act upon it too : he would have them know the worst of their condition, because he doubts not that they will be all the surer to meet it like men, dying gloriously, if die they must ; and he so frames his speech that it works in them as an inspiration to that effect. Speaking to them of himself in the third person, he says, '■ I think the King is but a man, as I am : the violet smells to him as it doth to me ; all his senses have but human conditions : and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing " : and on his conscience he assures them of what is indeed true, that the King " would not wish himself anywhere but where he is." From the overweening confidence of the French, leading to profanity and dissolute- ness, he gathers the lessons of an heroic piety :

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out ; For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful and good husbandry : Besides, they are our outward consciences. And preaches to us all ; admonishing That we should 'dress us fairly for our end. Thus may we gather honey from the weed, And make a moral of the Devil himself.

I have elsewhere observed how Shakespeare used the

28 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

Choruses in this play for the purpose of unbosoming him- self in regard to his favourite hero. His own personal sense of the King's nocturnal doings is most unequivocally pro- nounced in the Chorus to the fourth Act :

For forth he goes, and visits all his host ; Bids them good morrow with a modest smile, And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen. Upon his royal face there is no note How dread an army hath enrounded him ; Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour Unto the weary and all-watched night ; But freshly looks, and overbears attaint With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty ; That every wretch, pining and pale before. Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks : A largess universal, like the Sun, His liberal eye doth give to every one, Thawing cold fear ; that mean and gentle all Behold, as may unworthiness define, A little touch of Harry in the night.

But the best of it is, that all the deep seriousness, not to say gloom, of the occasion does not repress his native jocu- larity of spirit. John Bates and Michael Williams, whose hearts are indeed braver and better than their words, speak out their doubts and fears with all plainness ; and he falls at once into a strain of grave and apt discourse that soon satisfies their minds, which have been rendered somewhat querulous by the plight they are in ; and, when the blunt and downright Williams pushes his freedom into something of sauciness, he meets it with bland good-humour, and melts out the man's crustiness by contriving quite in his old style for carrying on a practical joke ; so that we have a right taste of the sportive Prince in the most trying and anxious passage of the King. In the same spirit, afterwards, when the jest is

INTRODUCTION. 29

coming to the upshot, as it is likely to breed some bloody work, he takes care that no harm shall be done : he turns it into an occasion for letting the men know whom they had talked so freely with : he has himself invited their freedom of speech, because in his full-souled frankness of nature he really loves to be inward with them, and to taste the honest utterance of their minds : and when, upon that disclosure, Williams still uses his former plainness, he Hkes him the bet- ter for it ; and winds up the jest by rewarding his supposed offence with a glove full of crowns ; thus ending the whole with a stroke of genuine magnanimity, such as cannot fail to secure the undivided empire of his soldiers' hearts : hence- forth they will make nothing of dying for such a noble fel- low, whose wish clearly is, not to overawe them by any studied dignity, but to reign within them by his manliness of soul, and by making them feel that he is their best friend.

His Wooing of Catharine.

The same merry, frolicsome humour comes out again in his wooing of the Princess Catharine. It is a real holiday of the spirits with him ; his mouth overruns with play ; he cracks jokes upon his own person and his speaking of French ; and sweetens his way to the lady's heart by genial frankness and simplicity of manner ; wherein we relish nothing of the King indeed, but, which is better, much of the man. With the open and true-hearted pleasantry of a child, he laughs through his courtship ; yet we feel all the while a deep undercurrent of seriousness beneath his laughter ; and there is to our sense no lapse from dignity in his behaviour, because nothing is really so dignified as when a man forgets his dignity in the overflowings of a right- noble and generous

30 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

heart. The King loves men who are better than their words ; and it is his nature to be better than he speaks : this is the artless disguise of modesty through which true goodness has its most effective disclosure ; while, on the other hand, we naturally distrust the beauty that is not something shy of let- ting its charms be seen. — I must add that, bearing in mind the well-known character and history of King Henry the Sixth, we cannot fail to take it as a signal stroke of irony when the hero, in his courtship, speaks to the Princess of their " compounding a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the beard." This is one of those highly artful, yet seemingly-spontaneous sallies with which the Poet delights to play out his deep insight of character, and to surprise or to laugh his readers into a knowledge of themselves. — It is also to be noted that, notwithstanding the hero's sportive mood in the wooing, when he comes to deal with the terms of peace, where he thinks the honour of his nation is involved, his mood is very different : then he purposely forgot the King in the man ; now he resolutely forgets the man in the King ; and will not budge a hair from the demands which he holds to be the right of his people. The dignity of his person he freely leaves to take care of itself; the dignity of his State is to him a sacred thing, and he will sooner die than compromise it a jot.

His Bearing as a Christian.

In respect of piety, the King exemplifies whatever was best in the teaching and practice of his time. Nor, upon the whole, is it altogether certain that any thing better has arisen since his time. What appears as modesty in his deal- ings with men here takes the form of humility, deep and

INTRODUCTION. 3I

unaffected ; he thinks, speaks, and acts in the fear of God : this trait is indeed the, central point, the very core of the whole delineation. Shakespeare found the King highly ex- tolled in Holinshed for his piety at home, and throughout his campaigns ; he accepted the matter most heartily, but construed it in a truly liberal spirit, and wrought it pur- posely into the brightest feature of his hero. Thus at the outset the King's demeanour is marked by calm, unobtrusive notes of severe conscientiousness : he is above all anxious that his enterprise have the Divine approval ; nor are his scruples on this score any the less genuine, that he does not assume to be himself the sole ultimate judge of right and duty, but refers it to the judgment of those who stand to him as authorized interpreters of the Divine will. Then he takes it as a direct interposal of Providence, and a gracious mark of the Divine favour, that the " dangerous treason, lurking in his way," is brought to light. And all through he takes care to instruct himself and to have his men instructed, that they are to place their sole reliance in God's help, to seek that help by piety and rectitude of life, and not to arrogate to themselves the merit of success, nor get puffed with a conceit of their own sufficiency. On the eve of tlie battle, he remembers, from his father's own mouth, the wrongs his father did in compassing the crown, and relig- iously fears lest the sins of the father in this case be visited on the son : in this pious and penitential thought he craves to be alone, that " he and his bosom may debate awhile " ; and then, after reciting some of the "good and pious works " which he has done to atone the fault, he adds, with heartfelt humility, " More will I do ; though all that I can do is noth- ing worth." And, while the French are revelling out the night in vanity and insolence, he has his soldiers put upon

32 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

fortifying their courage, and seeking to bring good out of evil, by solemn acts of repentance and prayer. So again, after the great victory, which he in his pious solicitude is slow to credit the report of, his first word is, '' Praised be God, and not our strength, for it ! " and later, when the results of the battle are fully ascertained, " O God, Thy arm was here, and not to us, but to Thy arm alone ascribe we all." And his sincerity in all this is approved by the order he takes that there be no voice of boasting or arrogance on account of what has been done, and that the Divine gift of victory be devoutly acknowledged in " all holy rites." How the Poet himself regarded these marks of Christian piety and humility in his hero, well appears from the account given of the King's reception at London, in the Chorus to Act v. :

Whereas his lords desire him to have borne His bruised helmet and his bended sword Before him through the city, he forbids it, Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride; Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent, Quite from himself to God.

It is true, some of the King's acts of religion are in a style that is now out of date, and that was mostly out of date in England when the play was written : but this no- wise detracts from their genuineness or from his integrity of heart in doing them. In the fifteenth century, piety and chivalry, which latter was then at its height, went hand in hand, forming a combination so foreign to our modes of thought, that we can hardly enter into it at all. That time is now generally, perhaps justly, regarded as an age of popular bigotry and of clerical simony ; yet the Poet's hero is clearly no bigot, and is as clearly above the suspicion of unclean hands ; and, whatever may be thought of his

INTRODUCTION. 33

religious modes, his Christian spirit is as lofty and pure as any age has witnessed in men of his place.

His Civil Administration.

Much the same is to be said touching the civil adminis- tration of this King. It is easy for us to observe that, instead of making useless conquests in France, he had better stayed at home, and spent his care in furthering the arts of peace, and been content with giving his people the benefit of a just and unambitious government. But what we call a liberal, humane, and judicious policy of State was in no sort the thing for that time. All men's ideas of great- ness and heroism ran in the channels of war and conquest : to make the people thrifty and happy by wise laws, was nowhere a mark of public houDur and applause ; and no nation was then held to have any rights that other nations were bound to respect. Nor, after all our fine words and high pretensions, are the nations of our time so clear in this regard, but that those older nations may still put in some claims to respect, and may even hold up their heads in our presence. It is enough that on all these points King Henry the Fifth, as Shakespeare draws him, embodies whatever was noblest in the mind and heart of his time ; though it seems hardly worth the while, even if it be true, to repeat the rather threadbare saying, that his faults were those of the age, while his virtues were those of the man. At all events, to insist, as some have done, on judging him by our stand- ard of policy and wisdom, is too absurd or too wrong-headed to deserve any laboured exposure.

34 KING HENRY THE FIFTH:

General Reflections.

In respect of proper dramatic interest and effect, this play is far inferior to King Henry tke Fourth ; nor does it rank very high in the Kst of Shakespeare's achievements : but in respect of wisdom and poetry and eloquence it is among his very best. The Choruses are replete with the finest lyrical inspiration ; and I know of nothing that sur- passes them in vividness of imagery, or in potency to kindle and electrify the reader's imaginative forces. The King's speeches to his soldiers at Harfleur and to the Governor and citizens of that town, in Act iii. ; his reflections on ceremony, and his speech to Westmoreland just before the battle of Agincourt, and Exeter's account of the deaths of York and Suffolk, all in Act iv. ; and Burgundy's speech in favour of peace, in Act v. ; all these may be cited as perfect models in their kind, at once eloquent and poetical in the highest degree. Campbell the poet aptly remarks of them, " It was said of ^schylus, that he composed his Seven Chiefs against Thebes under the inspiration of Mars himself. If Shakespeare's He?iry the Fifth had been written for the Greeks, they would have paid him the same compliment." Nor must I omit to mention the Archbishop's illustration from the commonwealth of bees in Act i. ; which has been justly noted as "full of the most exquisite imagery and music. The art employed in transforming the whole scene of the hive into a resemblance of humanity is a perfect study ; every successive object, as it is brought forward, being invested with its characteristic attributes."

I have to confess that in one material respect, at least, this play is not altogether such as I could wish. The French are palpably caricatured, and the caricature is not in a spirit of

INTRODUCTION. 35

perfect fairness and candour : it savours too mucli of run- ning an enemy down, llie Poet's English prejudices, hon- est as they were, are something too strongly pronounced. Frederick Schlegel well observes that ''the feeling by which Shakespeare seems to have been most connected with ordi- nary men is that of nationality" ; but in this case his nation- ality is not so tolerant and generous as his other plays would lead us to expect ; which imparts to the workmanship some want of the right artistic calmness and equipoise. It is true that in the hero's time the French people and government were in a most deplorable condition ; the King insane, the Dauphin frivolous and vain, the nobility split into reckless and tearing factions, and the whole nation bordering upon a state of anarchy ; insomuch that they may have well de- served the rough discipline Henry gave them ; and perhaps nothing less would have sufficed to exorcise the evil spirit out of them, and put them in training for better days : but all this does not j-istify the braggart, mouth-stretching per- siflage and insolence which the Poet ascribes to them. It is also true that in these points he renders them very much as he found them described in the Chronicles ; but the regards of Art as well as of cool justice should have softened away those satirical, distorting, and vituperative lines of descrip- tion : Shakespeare ought to have seen the French with his own eyes, and not with those of the old chroniclers. Gervi- nus suggests that a jealous patriotic feeHng may have influ- enced the Poet in this matter. The great Henry the Fourth, probably the most accomplished statesman and wisest ruler of his time, was then on the throne of France. And the Ger- man critic thinks that Shakespeare may have had it in mind to dash the enthusiasm of his French contemporaries about their king, by showing an English Henry who was his equal

36 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

in greatness and originality : but he rightly notes that the Poet's hero would have appeared still more noble, if his antagonists had been made to seem less despicable.

KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

his Brothers.

Duke of Exeter, of

King Henry the Fifth,

John, Duke of Bedford,

Humphrey, DukeofGlos- ter,

Thomas Beaufort his Uncle. ■

Edward Plantagenet, Duke York.

Henry Chicheley, Archbishop of Canterbury.

John Fordham, Bishop of Ely.

Earls of Salisbury, Westmore- land, and Warwick.

Richard, Earl of Cambridge

Henry Lord Scroop,

Sir Thomas Grey,

Sir Thomas Erping-

HAM,

GOWER, Fluellen,

Macmorris, and Jamy

Lords, Ladies, Officers, French and

i Con- spira- tors.

Officers in ,- the King's

Army.

Bates, Court, Williams, Soldiers in the same.

Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, also Sol- diers.

A Boy, Servant to them. A Herald.

Chorus.

Charles VL, King of France.

Louis, the Dauphin.

Dukes of Burgundy, Orleans,

and Bourbon. Constable of France. Rambures and Grandpre, Lords. MOUNTJOY, a French Herald. Governor of Harfleur. Ambassadors

to England.

Isabel, Queen of France. Catharine, Daughter of Charles. Alice, a Lady attending her. Mrs. Pistol, late Mrs. Quickly. English Soldiers, Messengers, and

Attendants.

Scene. — At the beginning of the play, in England ; afterwards, in France.

PROLOGUE.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act.

38 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

PROLOGUE,

And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! 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 spirits that have dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth 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 of 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 confined two mighty monarchies. Whose high-upreared and abutting fronts

1 Readers may like to be told that the image is of three eager hounds held back with a leash or strap, till the huntsman sees the time has come for letting them fly at the game. The Poet has repeated allusions to this old warlike trio. So m yullus Ccssar, in. i: "And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, shall in these confines with a monarch's voice cry Havoc / and let slip the dogs of war."

2 A cockpit was a small area enclosed for cocks to fight in. The pit of a theatre was the space immediately in front of the stage. The occupants of it had nothing between their feet and the ground ; hence were sometimes called " groundlings." In the text, however, cockpit seems to be put for the stage itself.

3 The Wooden O was the Globe Theatre on the Bankside, which was circular within. — "The very casques" is, "so much as the casques," or " merely the casques." So in The Taming of the Shrew : " Thou false deluding slave, that feed'st me with the very name of meat."

4 Imaginary for imaginative ; the passive form with the active sense An usage occurring continually in these plays.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 39

The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder :

Piece-out our imperfections with your thoughts ;

Into a thousand parts divide one man,

x\nd make imaginary puissance ;

Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them

Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth ;

For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,

Carry them here and there ; jumping o'er times.

Turning th' accomplishment of many years

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. — London. An Atite-chamber in the King's Palace.

Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely.

Cant. My lord, I'll tell you : That self i bill is urged Which in th' eleventh year of the last King's reign Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd. But that the scambling^ and unquiet tim.e

5 That is, " admit me as chorus to this History." A chorus, in one sense of the term, is an mierpreter ; one who explains to the audience what might else be dark or unmeaning to them. — Supply, I take it, is here used in the sense oi supplement or completion. So that "for the which supply" is equiv- alent \.o for the cojnpleting of which.

1 Selfior selfsame : a frequent usage.

2 The more common form of this word is scrambling. — Question, in the next line, is discussion or consideration.

40 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Did push it out of further 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 half of our possessions ; For all the temporal lands, which men devout /\^VU> u3 By testament have given to the Church, -> ^"^ 7, K^^^^^*^ ^^"'^y ^^^U^ 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, besides,.^; A thousand pounds by th' year i"* thus runs the bill; Ely. This would drink deep.

Cant. 'Twould drink the cup and all.

Ely. But what prevention ? Cant. The King is full of grace and fair regard, And a true lover of the holy Church. w -3^F^lThe courses of his youth promised it not. ^^ CantJ The breath no sooner left his father's body,

^^J^ ^ut that his wildness, mortified in him,

Seem'd to die too ; yea, at that very moment, Consideration, like an angel, came, ^ And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him,

^ Leaving his body as a paradise,

'T envelop and contain celestial spirits. Never was such a sudden scholar made ;

^ Lazars\\GXQ means the same as in Paradise Lost, xi. 479: "A lazc^r- house it seem'd, wherein were laid numbers of all diseased." 4 This is taken almost verbatim from Holinshed.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ' 4I

Never came reformation in a flood,

With such a heady current, scouring faults ;

Nor never hydra-headed wilfulness^

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,

As in this King!)

E/j. We 're blessed in the change.

Can^. Hear him but reason in divinity, And, all-admiring, with an inward wish

You would desire the King were made a i)relate ; CN _lj^p -^'i ui o Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, »

You'd say it hath been all-in-all his study ; ^li ^^

List his discourse of war, and you shall hear A fearful battle render'd you in music ;

Turn him to any cause of policy, ^ Q"

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 his theoric : ^

5 That is, a wilfulness with many heads, and which, like the hydra, as fast as the heads are cut off, puts forth new ones. So that " hydra-headed wilful- ness" is but a strong expression iox freakishness or waywardness ; the char- acter of one who, drifting before his whims, is ever on some new tack, or is " every thing by turns, and nothing long."

6 The air is called a " charter'd libertine," probably because it has by Nature a charter of exemption from restraint, or a prescriptive right to blow when and where it will, and cares no more for a king than for a beggar.

" He must have drawn his theory, digested his order and method of thought, from the art and practice of life, instead of shaping the latter by the rules and measures of the former : which is strange, since he has never been seen in the way eitlier of learning the things in question by experience, or of digesting the fruits of experience into theory. Practic and theoric, or practigue and theorique, were the old spelling oi practice and theory.

42 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

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 ;

And 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 '.jnx/^^

Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality ^ nrrUdror>c ^

And so the Prince obscured his contemplation Under the veil of wildness ; i^ which, no doubt. Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. ^^

Cant. It must be so ; for miracles are ceased ; And therefore we must needs admit the means Howl- things are perfected.

Ely. But, my good lord.

How now for mitigation of this bill Urged by the Commons? Doth his Majesty

8 Companies for companions. So in A Midsummer-Xighf s Dream, i. i: "Turn away our eyes, to seek new friends and stranger companies."

5 Popularity v!\ca.ni familiarity with the cotnmon people, as well as popu- lar favour or applause.

10 In Prince Henry's last speech, Act i. 2, / King Henry IF., he is repre- sented as deliberately proposing this course to himself, for reasons therein stated. So of Julius Cassar, " the greatest name in history," as Merivale calls him, it is said that in his earlier years he concealed his tremendous energy and power of application under such an exterior of thoughtless dis- sipation, that he was set down as a mere young trifier not worth minding.

11 Crescive is the same as crescent, growing, or increasing. So in Hamlet, i. 3: "Nature, crescent, does not grow alone in thews and bulk. — His for its, as usual.

13 The Poet not unfrequently thus uses how in the sense of by zohicA.

SCENE I. KING HEx\RY THE FIFTH. 43

Incline to it, or no ?

Cant. f He seems indifferent ;

Or, rather, swaying more upon our part Than cherishing th' exhibiters ^^ against us :

For I have made an offer to his Majesty, — \ \-r^,-|^ (UTrNtLuJ^ 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 received, my lord?

Caiit. With good acceptance of his Majesty : Save that there was not time enough to hear — As, I perceived, his Grace would fain have done — The several and unhidden passages ^^ Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms. And, generally, to the crown and seat of France, Derived from Edward, ^^ his great-grandfather.

Ely. What was th' impediment that broke this off?

Cant. The French ambassador upon that instant Craved audience ; and the hour, I think, is come To give him hearing : is it four o'clock?

13 Exhibiters is movers^ proposers, or prosecutors. So, in The Merry Wives, ii. I, Mrs. Page says, " I'll exhibit a Bill in the Parliament for the

putting-down of fat men."

14 The passages of his titles are the lines of succession by which his claims descend. Unhiddeti is open, clear. — Johnson.

15 Isabella, queen of Edward the Second, and mother of Edward the Third, was the daughter of Philip the Fair, of France. She was reputed the most beautiful woman in Europe, and was by many thought the wickedest. The male succession from her father expired in the person of her brother, Charles the Fair. So that, but for the exclusion of females, the French crown would have properly descended to her son.

44 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I

Ely. It is.

Cant. Then go we in, to know his embassy ; Which I could, with a ready guess, declare. Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.

Ely. I'll wait upon you : and I long to hear it. {^Exeunt.

Scene II. — The Same. The Presence-chamber in the Same.

Enter King Henry, Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Warwick, Westmoreland, 1 and Attendants.

King. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

Exe. Not here in presence.

King. Send for him, good uncle.

West. Shall we call in th' ambassador, my liege ?

King. Not yet, my cousin : we would be resolved,^ Before we hear him, of some things of weight. That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.

Enter the Archbishop ^Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely.

Cant. God and His angels guard your sacred throne. And make you long become it !

King. Sure, we thank you.

My learned lord, we pray you to proceed, And justly and religiously unfold

1 The Princes Humphrey and John were made Dukes of Gloster and Bedford at the first Parliament of Henry the Fifth, in 1414. At the same time, according to Holinshed, Thomas Beaufort, Marquess of Dorset, was made Duke of Exeter. The Beaufort family sprang from John of Gaunt by Catharine Swynford, to whom he was married after she had borne him sev- eral children. — The earldom of Warwick was at that time in the family of Beauchamp, and the Earl of Westmoreland was Ralph Neville.

2 Resolve is very often used by old writers in the sense of inform, assure. or satisfy.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 45

Why the law Sahque, 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 3 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, r^^"^^

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 the sleeping sword of war ;

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 sword

That makes such waste in brief mortality.

Under this conjuration, speak, my lord ;

For we will hear, note, and believe in heart

That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd

As pure as sin with baptism.

Cant Then hear me, gracious sovereign, — and you peers,

3 Nicely here has the sense of curiously or ingeniously, and its force rather qualifies opening than charge: so that the sense of the whole clause is, " that you should burden your wise judgment with the guilt of making that seem fairly and truly derived which is really a false creation, a fiction of craft and ingenuity."

■* Whose right is equivalent to the right growing frojii which, or depend- i?ig on which : the right growing from which, however plausibly made out, would not stand with a plain and honest handling of the matter.

5 Approbation was used of old iox proving or establishing by proof.

6 To impawn was to engage or pledge.

4-6 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT L

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 terrain Sa/ica/n viulieres ne siiccedant,

" No woman shall succeed in Salique land " :

Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze"*

To be the realm of France, and Pharamond

The founder of this law and female bar. -, <^.'<*^^ Jl-^

Yet their own authors faithfully affirm ^J^$^>^

That the land Salique is in Germany,

Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe ;

Where 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

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

Until four hundred one-and-twenty years

'' To gloze is to explain or e'xpou?id, as in our word g/oss. So in Holin- shed : " The verie words of that supposed law are these, /« terrain Salicavi fnulieres ne siiccedant, that is to saie, Into the Sahke land let not women succeed. Which the French glossers expound to be the realme of France, and that this law was made by King Pharamond."

8 Shakespeare often uses honest and honesty for chaste and chastity. So here dishonest means unchaste. So in As You Like It, v. 3: " I hope it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world" ; that is, io get married. See As You Like It, page 97, note 6.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 4/

After defunction of King Pharamond,

Idly supposed the founder of this law ;

Who died within the year of our redemption

Four hundred twenty-six ; and Charles the Great

Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French

Beyond the river Sala, in the year

Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, ' VTUTui CoaLlujX

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

Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, —

To fine his title ^ with some show of truth.

Though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,

Convey'd himselfi*^ as th' heir to th' Lady Lingare,

Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son

To Louis the Emperor, and Louis the son

Of Charles the Great. Also King Louis the Tenth, ^^

Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,

Could not keep quiet in his conscience,

Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied

& " To Jine his title " may mean to embellish or dress up his title, to make it specious ox plausible. See Critical Notes.

1" Passed himself off as heir to the lady Lingare. Bishop Cooper has the same expression : " To convey himself to be of some noble family." — The matter is thus stated by Holinshed : " Hugh Capet also, to make his title seeme true, and appeare good, though indeed it was starke naught, conveied himselfe as heire to the ladie Lingard, daughter to king Charle- maine."

11 This should be Louis the Nitith. The Poet took the mistake from Holinshed.

48 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I

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 Louis's satisfaction, all appear

To hold in right and title of the female :

So do the Kings of France unto this day ;

Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law

To bar your Highness claiming from the female ;

And rather choose to hide them in a net

Than amply to imbar^^ their crooked titles

Usurp 'd from you and your progenitors.

King. May I with right and conscience make this claim ?

Cant. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign ! For in the Book of Numbers is it writ. When the man dies, let the inheritance Desce7id unto the daughter.^'^ Gracious lord, Stand for your own ; unwind your bloody flag ; \ijj^ Look back unto your mighty ancestors : -J3>^

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,

12 To imbar is to bar ; that is, to exclude or set aside. Sec Critical Notes.

13 The passage referred to is in Numbers xxvii, 8. Holinshed gives it thus : " The archbishop further alledged out of the booke of Numbers this saieing, ' When a man dieth without a sonne, let the inheritance descend to his daughter.' "

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 49

Whiles his most mighty father on a hill Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp Forage in blood of French nobility. 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 ! i'*

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-mom of his youth. Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.

Exe. Your brother kings and monarchs of the Earth Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, As did the former lions of your blood : They know your Grace hath cause and means and might.

West. 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.

Cant. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, With blood and sword and fire to win your right : 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.

King. We must not only arm t' invade the French, But lay down our proportions to defend

14 The meaning evidently is, cold for want of action. For similar in- stances of language see As You Like It, page 79, note 7.

50 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Against the Scot, who will make road upon us With all advantages.

Cant. They of those marches,^^ gracious sovereign, Shall be a wall sufficient to defend Our inland from the pilfering borderers.

King. We do not mean the coursing snatchers only. But fear the main intendment of the Scot,i^ 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 ; 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 th' ill neighbourhood.

Cant. She hath been then more fear'eP^ 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 her chronicle as rich with praise

15 The marches are the borders. See / Henry 11'., page 93, note I.

16 The maifi intendment is the principal ptirpose ; that he will bend his whole force against us. — A giddy neighbour is an unstable or inconstant neighbour, one not true to his promises.

1"^ Fear'd here me^ins frightened. We have it in the same sense in other places, as in j- Henry VI., v. 2 : " Warwick was a bug \\\dii fear'd us all."

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 5 1

As is the ooze and bottom of the sea With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.

TVesf. But there's a saying, very old and true,

If that you iv ill France wi?i, Then with Scotland first begin :

For, once the eagle England being in prey. To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot 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.

£xe. It follows, then, the cat must stay at home : Yet that is but a crush'd^^ necessity. Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, Th' advised ^^ head defends itself at home ; For government, though high and low and lower, Put into parts, doth keep in one concent,'20 Congreeing in a full and natural close. Like music.

Cant. True : therefore doth Heaven divide

The state of man in divers functions, '

18 " A crtish'd necessity " seems to be a proleptical form of speech, mean- ing a necessity that will or may be crushed, or overcome, by the use of other means, such as locks and traps. See Critical Notes.

19 Advised is thoughtful, deliberate. Often so. See The Merchant, page 87, note 33.

2" Consent and concent are only different forms of the same word ; but concent is the form that has grown to be a term of art in music. The idea of this passage occurs in a fragment quoted by St. Augustine from a lost book of Cicero's. But Shakespeare, if he did not discover it with his own unassisted eye, was more likely to derive it from Plato, who was much studied in England in his time.

52 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT L

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 art of order to a peopled kingdom.

They have a king, and officers of sorts ;~~

Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ;

Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ;

Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,

Make boot upon the Summer's velvet buds 7^

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 ; ' \\c.ux.fe^

The civil citizens kneading-up the honey ; q

The poor mechanic porters crowding-in

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 concent, may work contrariously

As many arrows, loosed several ways,

'■^1 BuU is a term in archery for the mark or object aimed at. The gen- eral idea of the passage is, that action or endeavour has, for its rule and measure, obedience, or rather the thing obeyed, that is, law ; and this law, standing as a common mark or aim, keeps endeavour from running at cross-purposes with itself.

2"^ " Officers *of sorts " probably means officers of different /ofii-s or grades. Or it may mean officers having different parts or duties allotted to them. The sense of the Latin sots.

23 Executors for executioners. So in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy . " Tremble at an executor, and yet not fear hell-fire."

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 53

Fly 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 ;

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. Y

Xing. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. —

\_Exeunt some Attendants. Now are we well resolved ; and, by God'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 : there we'll sit. Ruling in large and ample empery^^ O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, Tombless, with no remembrance over them : Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave. Like Turkish mutes, shall have a tongueless mouth, Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.^*^ —

24 Borne, here, is carried on or worked through. Repeatedly so,

25 Empery is, in old usage, a word for dominion or sovereignty.

'-6 Formerly, in England, it was customary, on the death of an eminent person, for his friends to compose short laudatory poems or epitaphs, and affix them to the hearse or the grave with pins, paste, or wax. Gifford

54 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I

E7iter Ambassadors of Fra?ice, attended.

Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure Of our fair cousin Dauphin ; for we hear Your greeting is from him, not from the King.

I Amb. 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 The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy ?

King. 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.

I Amd. Thus, then, in few :

Your Highness, lately sending into France, Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right Of your great predecessor, Edward Third : In answer of which claim, the Prince our master Says that you savour too much of your youth ; And bids you be advised,-'^ 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,

thinks, and, apparently, with good reason, that the Poet here alludes to this custom. He adds, " Henry's meaning therefore is ' I will either have my full history recorded with glory, or lie in an undistinguished grave; not merely without an inscription sculptured in stone, but unhonoured even by a waxen epitaph,' that is, by the short-lived compliment of a paper fastened on it."

27 Here be advised is bethink yourself; much the same as in note 19.

28 Galliard was the name of a sprightly dance. See Tioelfth Night, page 40, note 22.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 55

This ton 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. What treasure, uncle ?

Exe. Tennis-balls,^*^ my liege.

King. 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 God's grace, play a set Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.^i

29 In lieu of is in return for, or in consideration of. See The Tetnpesi page 55, note 36.

3*^ In the corresponding scene of The Fatnous Victories of Henry the Fifth, the Archbishop delivers to the King " a tunne of tennis-balles " as a present from the Dauphin. The King thereupon exclaims, " What, a. gilded tunne !" and, upon his asking, " What might the meaning thereof be ? " the Archbishop replies, " My lord, hearing of your wildness before your father's death, sent you this, meaning that you are more fitter for a tennis-court than a field." I quote this mainly as throwing light on the meaning of tun here. The following from The Edinburgh Review, October, 1872, will give what further light may be needed. " In addition to a large cask containing a certain measure of liquids or solids, it was applied to a goblet, chalice, or drinking-cup, more commonly a silver-gilt goblet. Thus Minsheu, on the English side of his Spanish Dictionary, gives ' a tunne, or nut to drink in, cubilete', which is explained, ' a drinking-cup of silver, or such a cup as jugglers use, to show divers tricks by.' In illustration of this we may men- tion that* in an old country town we remember an inn formerly known as ' The Three Tuns,' which had as its ancient painted sign three gilt goblets exactly hke those used by street jugglers." From a passage given by Halli- well, it would seem that nut or riutte was used like tun for a drinking-cup or goblet, which in wealthy Houses was commonly of silver or silver-gilt.

31 The hazard is a place in the tennis-court into which the ball is some- times struck. — Rackets are instruments made with a sort of hoop at the further end, and some light elastic material stretched over it, for striking or catching the balls in a game of tennis. So Swift, in his Preface to A Tale of a Tub, 1697 : " 'Tis but a ball bandied to and fro, and every man carries a racket about him, to strike it from himself, among the rest of the com' pany."

56 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler

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 here, did give ourself

To barbarous license ; as 'tis 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 soul of greatness.

When I do rouse me in my throne of France :

For here 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.

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 casUes 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,

Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on.

To venge me as I may, and to put forth

32 A chase at tennis is the duration of a contest between the players, in which the endeavour on each side is to keep the ball up.

33 At the first bringing of cannon into the field stones were used for balls.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 57

My rightful hand in a vvell-hallovv'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.

\_Exeiint Ambassadors.

Exe. This was a merry message.

King. 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 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'll 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.

\_Flourish. Exeunt.

3* Conduct for escort or attendance. Often so. See King John, page 39, note 4.

35 Happy for auspicious ox propitious, like the '[^at'm/etix.

36 To proportion a thing is to make \\. proportionable to the purpose. So here the noun means suitable numbers of troops ; as before in this scene: " But lay down owx proportions to defend against the Scot."

3'^ That is, (jodi going before ; God prospering or guiding us.

58 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Scene III. — Londo7i. Before the Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.

Enter, severally, Nym afid Bardolph.

Bard. Well met, Corporal Nym.^

Nym. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

Bard. 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 smites : 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 ^ in France : left be so, good Corporal Nym.

Nym. Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the cer- tain of it ; and, when I cannot live any longer, I will die 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.

Nym. I cannot tell : things must be as they may : men

1 This corporal derives his name from the Saxon niman, which means to take : and in the old cant of English thieves to steal was to nim. In fact, thieves generally, I believe, are apt to take it in ill part, if the word stealing is applied to their action. And an experienced English magistrate is said to have remarked, that " of the persons brought before him for theft many confessed they took the article in question, but none said they stole it."

2 Ancient is an old corruption of ensign. See / He?iry IV., p. 157, n. 8.

3 In the times of adventure it was usual for two or more chiefs to bind themselves to share in each other's fortunes, and divide their acquisitions between them. ThcywciQ ca.\\G.d fratres jurati.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 59

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.

Bard. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife : good corporal, be patient here. —

Enter Pistol a?id the Hostess.

How now, mine host Pistol !

Pist. Base tike,^ call'st thou me host ? Now, by this hand, I swear, I scorn the term ; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

Host. No, by my troth, not long ; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a naughty house straight. — [Nym draws his sword.'] O well- a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn ! [Pistol also draws his szuord.] Now we shall see wilful adultery and murder com- mitted.

Bard. Good heutenant,^ — good corporal, — offer nothing here.

Nym. Pish !

Fist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog ! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland ! ^

4 Tike was much used, as it still is in some places, for a large dog.

5 Bardolph here addresses Pistol as lieutenant, though he has twice be- fore called him ancient, which is his proper title. Whether the slip is Bar- dolph's or the Poet's, may be something uncertain. So, near the close of the preceding play, Falstaff addresses the same ensign as "Lieutenant Pistol." Also, in this scene, Nym calls Bardolph lieutenant ; whereas, in iii. I, he addresses him as corporal.

6 The cur of Iceland is c2\\gA prick-eared, because he pricks up his ears, or has his ears erect and pointed. — A treatise by Abraham Fleming, printed

60 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Host. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.

Nym. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

\_Shcafhing his sword.

Fist. Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile ! The solus in thy most marvellous 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.

Nym. 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 : if you would walk off, I would prick you a little, in good terms, as I may : and that's the humour of it.

Fisf. O braggart vile, and damned furious wight ! The grave doth gape, and doting death is near ;

in 1576, has this : " Iceland dogs, curled and rough all over, which, by reason of the length of their hair, make show neither of face nor of body. And yet these curs, forsooth, because they are so strange, are greatly set by, esteemed, taken up, and made of, many times, instead of the spaniel gentle or com- forter."

■^ Perdy is an old corruption oi par dieu, which seems to have been going out of use in the Poet's time. It occurs often in the old plays, and was probably taken thence by Pistol, whose talk is chiefly made up from the gleanings of the playhouse, the groggery, and other like places.

8 Pistol evidently uses this phrase in the same sense it bears in our time. He supposes Nym to have conveyed some dark insult by the word solus, and he prides himself on his ability to take the meaning oi ^vxch. insinuations.

9 Barbason is the name of a demon mentioned in The Merry Wives of Windsor. The unmeaning tumour of Pistol's speech very naturally reminds Nym of the sounding nonsense uttered by conjurers.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 6l

Therefore exhale. ^^ [Nym draws his sword.

Bard. Hear me, hear me what I say : He that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.

\_Draws his sword.

Fist. An oath of mickle might ; and fury shall abate. — Give me thy fist, thy fore -foot to me give : Thy spirits are most tall. [^/^C*' ^^^^<^ihe their swords.

Nyi7i. I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms : that is the humour of it.

Pist. Coupe la gorge ! That is the word. I thee defy again.

0 hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get ? No ; to the spital i^ go,

And from the powdering-tub of infamy Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse :

1 have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly For th' only she ; and Fauca,^^ there's enough. Go to.

Enter the Boy.

Boy. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, — and you, hostess: — he is very sick, and would to bed. — Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill.

Bard. Away, you rogue !

10 Pistol's exhale means, draw thy sword. So in King Richard III., i. 2: " 'Tis thy presence that exhales this blood from cold and empty veins." The Poet repeatedly has exhale in the same sense.

11 Spital is hospital ; a.nd powdering-tub refers to the old mode of treat- ing certain diseases. Pistol means to insinuate that Mistress Doll has gone to an hospital to be treated in that way.

12 That \s,pauca verba, few words.

62 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT I.

Host. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days : the King has kill'd his heart. — Good hus- band, come home presently. \_Exetmt Hostess ajid 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 ?

Fist. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on !

Nym. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting ?

PisL Base is the slave that pays.

Ny?n. That now I will have : that's the humour of it.

Pisf. As manhood shall compound : push home.

[Pistol a7id Nym draw their swords.

Bard. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him ; by this sword, I will. S^D^-aws his sword.

Fist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

Bard. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends : an thou wilt not, why, then be enemies with me too. Pr'y- thee, put up.

Ny?n. I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting ?

Fist. A noble ^^ shalt thou have, and present pay ; And liquor likewise will I give to thee, And friendship shall combine and brotherhood ; I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me ; — Is not this just? — for I shall sutler be Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. Give me thy hand. \_Thdy sheathe their swords.

Ny?n. I shall have my noble ?

Fist. In cash most justly paid.

13 The noble was worth six shillings and eight pence.

CHORUS. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 63

Nym. Well, then, that's the humour of it. Re-en fer the Hostess.

Host. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John. Ah, poor heart ! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, i"* that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.

Nym. The King hath run bad humours on the knight ; that's the even of it.

Pist. Nym, thou hast spoke the right ; His heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nytn. The King is a good king : but it must be as it may ; he passes some humours and careers. ^•''

Pist. Let us condole the knight ; for lambkins we will live. 16 \_Exetnit.

ACT n.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies : Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man :

1* The Hostess here uses words, as she has before used a^«//<?rj/, without knowing their meaning. A quotidian is a fever that returns every day ; a tertian, every three days,

15 To pass a career is said to have been a technical phrase for galloping a horse violently to and fro, and then stopping him suddenly at the end of the course. Nym refers to the King's sudden change of treatment towards Falstaff, on coming to the crown.

16 " We'll live together quietly and peaceably, like little lambs."

64 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II.

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,

Promised to Harry and his followers.

The French, advised 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 ! —

1 This was Richard Plantagenet, second son to Edmund of Langley^ Duke of York, who, again, was the fourth son of Edward the Third. He was married to Anne Mortimer, sister to Edmund, Earl of March, and great-granddaughter of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, who was the second son of Edward ihe Third. From this marriage sprung Richard, who in the next reign was restored to the rights and titles forfeited by his father, and was made Duke of York. This Richard afterwards claimed the crown in right of his mother, and as the lineal heir from the aforesaid Lionel ; and hence arose the long war between the Houses of York and Lancaster. So that the present Earl of Cambridge was the grandfather of Edward the Fourth and Richard the Third. His older brother, Edward, the Duke of York of this play, was killed at the battle of Agincourt, and left no child.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 65

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.

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

To give you gentle pass ; for, if we may.

We'll not offend one stomach with our play. \_Exit

. Scene I. — Southampton. A Cou7icil- Chamber, Efiter Exeter, Bedford, a7id Westmoreland.

Bed. 'Fore God, his Grace is bold, to trust these traitors.

Exe. They shall be apprehended by-and-by.

IVest. How smooth and even they do bear themselves ! As if allegiance in their bosoms sat. Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.

Bed. The King hath note of all that they intend. By interception which they dream not of.

Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow. Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours ; That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell His sovereign's life to death and treachery !

Trumpets sound. Efiter King Henry, Cambridge, Scroop, Grey, Lords, and Attendants.

King. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.

66 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II

My Lord of Cambridge, — and my kind Lord of Masham, ^

And you, my gentle knight, — give me your thoughts :

Think you not, that the powers we bear with us

Will cut their passage through the force of France,

Doing the execution and the act

For which we have in head assembled them ?

Scroop. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.

King. I doubt not that ; since we are well persuaded We carry not a heart with us from hence That grows not in a fair concent with ours. Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish Success and conquest to attend on us.

Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd and loved Than is your Majesty : there's not, I think, a subject That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness Under the sweet shade of your government.

Grey. True ; those that were your father's enemies Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you With hearts create of duty ^ and of zeal.

King. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness ; And shall forget the office of our hand. Sooner than quittance ^ of desert and merit According to their weight and worthiness.

Scroop. So service shall with steeled sinews toil. And labour shall refresh itself with hope, To do your Grace incessant services.

King. We judge no less. — Uncle of Exeter, Enlarge the man committed yesterday,

1 Create for created. The Poet has many such shortened preterites ; as frustrate, situate, suffocate, &c. — Duty, here, is dutifulness, the act for tlif motive or principle of it.

2 Quittance for requital or return. See 2 Henry fV., page 6o, note 12.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 6/

That rail'd against our person : we consider It was excess of wine that set him on ; And, on our more advice,^ we pardon him.

Scroop. That's mercy, but too much security : Let him be punish 'd, sovereign ; lest example Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.

King. O, let us yet be merciful.

Cam. So may your Highness, and yet punish too.

Grey. Sir, You show great mercy, if you give him life. After the taste of much correction.

King. Alas, your too much love and care of me Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch ! If little faults, proceeding on distemper,-* Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow 'd, and digested, Appear before us? — We'll yet enlarge that man, Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear care And tender preservation of our person, Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes : Who are the late ^ commissioners ?

Cam. I one, my lord : Your Highness bade me ask for it to-day.

Scroop. So did you me, my liege.

Grey. And me, my royal sovereign.

King. Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours ; —

3 " On more advice " is on further cotisideratioti. See The Merchant^ page i8o, note i. — Security, in the next line, has the sense of the Latin securus ; over-cojifidence. A frequent usage. See Macbeth, page 119, note 4.

* Distemper for intemperatice. The King has just said, " It was excess of wine that set him on." So in Othello, i. i : " Being full of supper and dis- temperi?ig draughts."

5 Late in the sense of recent or newly-appointed.

68 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IL

There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham ; — and, sir knight, Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours : — Read them ; and know, I know your worthiness. — My Lord of Westmoreland, — and uncle Exeter, — We will aboard to-night. — Why, how now, gentlemen ! What see you in those papers, that you lose So much complexion? — Look ye, how they change ! Their cheeks are paper. — Why, what read you there, That hath so cowarded and chased your blood Out of appearance ?

Cam. I do confess my fault ;

And do submit me to your Highness' mercy.

^ ^' [-To which we all appeal. Scroop. )

King. The mercy that was quick ^ in us but late,

By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd :

You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy ;

For your own reasons turn into your bosoms.

As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. —

See you, my princes and my noble peers.

These English monsters ! My lord of Cambridge here,

You know how apt our love was to accord

To furnish him ^ with all appertinents

Belonging to his honour ; and this man

Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly® conspired,

And sworn unto the practices of France,

To kill us here in Hampton : to the which

6 Quick, here, is living ox alive. See The Winter's Tale, page 117, note 18.

"^ In /urnishi?tg him; the infinitive used gerundively, as very often. Ac- cord in the sense of agree or consent.

8 Lightly, here, is promptly, readily, or without scruple. So in The Com- edy, iv. 4 : " And will no( lightly trust the messenger."

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 69

This knight, no less for bounty bound to us

Than Cambridge is, hath Hkewise sworn. — But, O,

What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop ? thou cruel,

Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature !

Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,

That knew'st the very bottom of my soul.

That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,

Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use ;

May it be possible, that foreign hire

Could out of thee extract one spark of evil

That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange.

That, though the truth of it stands off as gross

As black from white, my eye will scarcely see it.

Treason and murder ever kept together.

As two yoke- devils sworn to either's purpose.

Working so grossly in a natural cause,^

That admiration did not whoop at them :

But thou, 'gainst all proportion, ^^ didst bring in

Wonder to wait on treason and on murder :

And whatsoever cunning fiend it was

That wrought upon thee so preposterously,

Hath got the voice in Hell for excellence :

And other devils, that suggest ^^ by treasons,

^ Heath probably gives the right explanation of this : " Working so ap- parently under the influence of some motive which nature excuses at least in some measure ; such as self-preservation, revenge, and the like, which have the greatest sway in the constitution of human nature." — In the next line, admiration is wonder, as usual in Shakespeare. To whoop is to ex- claim, or utter a note of surprise.

10 Proportion in the sense of natural order or fitness. The sense of the passage is, that Scroop's course is to be wondered at because it is against all the proper analogies of crime, and therefore monstrous.

11 To suggest, in old usage, is to tempt, to seduce. The same with sug- gestion. See The Tempest, page 89, note 53.

yO KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II.

Do botch and bungle up damnation

With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd

From glistering semblances of piety ;

But he that tempted thee bade thee stand up,

Gave thee no instance ^^ why thou shouldst do treason,

Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.

If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus

Should with his lion-gait walk the whole world,!^

He might return to vasty Tartar ^^ back,

And tell the legions, / cati never win

A soul so easy as that Englishman's.

O, how hast thou with jealousy infected

The sweetness of affiance ! Show men dutiful ?

Why, so didst thou : or seem they grave and learned ?

Why, so didst thou : come they of noble family?

Why, so didst thou : seem they religious ?

Why, so didst thou : or are they spare in diet ;

Free froni 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 1^ in purged judgment, trusting neither?

12 The Poet uses instance in a great variety of senses, which are some- times not easy to define. Here it means example, purpose, or inducement. See 2 Henry IV., page ii6, note 6.

13 Evidently alluding to i Peter, v. 8 : " The Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."

1* The Tartarus of classical mythology. Vasty in the sense of the Latin vastus ; hideous, frightful, devouring. So, again, in the third scene of this Act : " The poor souls for whom this hungry war opens his vasty jaws."

15 Cotnpletnent is accompUshtnent or cotnpleteness ; quite distinct from compliment.

16 But is here exceptive ; and the sense of the whole passage is, not trusting so absolutely in his own perceptions as to despise or neglect the

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. /I

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.^^ — Their faults are open : Arrest them to the answer of the law ; And God acquit them of their practices !

Exe. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Rich- ard Earl of Cambridge.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord Scroop of Masham.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland.

Scroop. Our purposes God justly hath disco ver'd; And I repent my fault more than my death ; Which I beseech your Highness to forgive. Although my body pay the price of it.

Cam. For me, the gold of France did not seduce ;

advice of others ; and then not acting upon either till he has brought a judg- ment purged from the distempers of passion to bear upon the joint result.

1"^ Bolted is si/ted. So in The Winter s Tale, iv, 3 : " The fann'd snow that's bolted by the northern blasts."

18 Here the force of best retroacts on full-fraught, giving it the sense of the superlative. The Poet has many instances of similar language. See The Merchant, page 150, note 43.

19 Lord Scroop has already been spoken of as having been the King's bedfellow. Holinshed gives the following account of him : " The said lord Scroope was in such favour with the king, that he admitted him sometime to be his bedfellow, in whose fidelitie the king reposed such trust, that when anie privat or publike councell was in hand, this lord had much in the determination of it. For he represented so great gravitie in his counte- nance, such modestie in behaviour, and so vertuous zeale to all godlinesse in his talke, that whatsoever he said was thought for the most part neces- sarie to be doone and followed."

72 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II

Although I did admit it as a motive The sooner to effect what I intended : -^ But God be thanked for prevention ; Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,^! Beseeching God and you to pardon me.

Grey. Never did faithful subject more rejoice At the discovery of most dangerous treason Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself, Prevented from a damned enterprise : My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign

King. God quit ^^ you in His mercy ! Hear your sen- tence. You have conspired against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers Received the golden earnest of our death ; Wherein you would have sold your King to slaughter. His princes and his peers to servitude. His subjects to oppression and contempt, And his whole kingdom into desolation. Touching our person, seek we no revenge ; But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,23

20 According to Holinshed, Cambridge's purpose in joining the conspir- acy was, to give the crown to his brother-in-law, the Earl of March, and also to open the succession to his own children, as he knew the Earl of March was not likely to have any. As heirs from Lionel, Duke of Clarence, his children would, in strict order, precede the Lancastrian branch ; as John of Gaunt, the grandfather of the present King, was the third son of Edward the Third. See page 64, note i.

21 Rather odd and harsh in construction ; but the meaning is, " at which I will heartily rejoice, even while suffering the pain it involves."

22 Quit for acquit; as a little before, "And God acquit them of their practices ! " See As You Like It, page 78, note 2.

23 To tender a thing, as the word is here used is to esteem it, to be care- ful or tender of it. See The Tempest, page 88, note 49.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 73

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 ! — Bear them hence. —

\_Exeunt Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, guarded. Now, lords, for France ; the enterprise whereof Shall be to you as us Hke glorious. We doubt not of a fair and lucky war. Since God so graciously hath brought to light This dangerous treason, lurking in our way To hinder our beginnings ; we doubt not now But every rub is smoothed on our way. Then, forth, dear countrymen : let us dehver Our puissance into the hand of God, Putting it straight in expedition. Cheerly to sea ; the signs of war advance : No King of England, if not King of France. \_Exeunf.

Scene II. — London, Before the Boar's-head Tavern, Eastcheap,

Enter Pistol, Hostess, Nym, Bardolph, and the Boy.

Host. Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee ' to Staines.

Pist. No ; for my manly heart doth yearn.^ — Bardolph, be blithe ; — Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins ; —

1 That is, accompany thee. Often so.

2 To yearn is to grieve, to be sorry, to mourn. See King Richard the Sec- ond) page 157. note 15.

74 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT It

Boy, bristle thy courage up ; — for Falstaff he is dead, And we must yearn therefore.

Bard. Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in Heaven or in Hell !

Host. Nay, sure, he's not in Hell : he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. 'A made a fine end, and went away, an it had been any christom ^ child : 'a parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide : '* for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way ; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, Sir John ! quoth I : what, 7nan ! be o^ good cheer. So 'a cried out, God, God, God ! three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him 'a should not think of God ; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet : I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone ; then I felt to his knees, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

Nytn. They say he cried out of sack.^

Host. Ay, that 'a did.

Bard. And of women.

3 Christom is a form of clirkom. A chrisom-child was one that died within a month after the birth ; so called from the chrisoin, which was a white cloth put upon the child at baptism, and used for its shroud, in case it did not outlive the first month. Bishop Taylor has the word in his Holy Dying, Chap. I. sec. 2 : " Every morning creeps out of a dark cloud, leaving behind it an ignorance and silence deep as midnight, and undiscerned as are the phantasms that make a chrisom-child to smile."

4 The common people of England used to believe that death always took place just as the tide began to ebb.

5 To cry out of or on a thing is to exclaim against it. See 2 Henry J V„ page 115, note 5.

SCENE II. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 75

Host. Nay, that 'a did not.

Boy. Yes, that 'a did ; and said they were devils incar- nate.

Host. 'A never could abide carnation ; 'twas a colour he never liked.

Boy. 'A said once, the Devil would have him about women.

Host. W did in some sort, indeed, handle women ; but then he was rheumatic.^

• Boy. Do you not remember, 'a saw a flea stick upon Bar- dolph's nose, and 'a said it was a black soul burning in hell- fire?

Bard. Well, the fuel is gone that maintain'd that fire : that's all the riches I got in his service.

Nym. Shall we shog?'^ the King will be gone ft^om South- ampton.

Pist. Come, let's away. — My love, give me thy lips. Look to my chattels and my movables : Let senses rule ; the word is Pitch and pay ; Trust none ;

For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog,^ my duck : Therefore cm^eto be thy counsellor. Go, clear thy crystals.^ — Yoke-fellows in arms, Let us to France ; Hke horse-leeches, my boys, To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck !

6 Rheumatic is a Quicklyism for lunatic. — "Hatidle women " is speak of them, that is, meddle with them in his talk.

■^ To shog is the same as iojog. Generally used with off, shog off.

8 Pistol puts forth a string of proverbs. " Pitch and pay, and go your way," is one in Florio's Collection. " Brag is a good dog, and Holdfast a. better," is one of the others to which he alludes,

9 He nieans, dry thine eyes.

'J^ KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IL

Boy. And that's but unwholesome food, they say. Pist. Touch her soft mouth, and march. Bard. Farewell, hostess. \_Kissing her.

Nym. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it ; but, adieu. Pist. Let housewifery appear : keep close, I thee com- mand. Host. Farewell; adieu. \Exeunt,

Scene III. — France. A Room iii the French King's Palace.

Flourish. Enter the French King, attended; the Dauphin, the Duke of Burgundy, the Constable, and others.

Fr. King. Thus come the English with full power upon us ; And more than carefully it us concerns To answer royally in our defences. Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, — And you, Prince Dauphin, — with all swift dispatch To line ^ and new repair our towns of war With men of courage and with means defendant ; For England his approaches makes as fierce As waters to the sucking of a gulf. It fits us, then, to be as provident As fear may teach us, out of late examples Left by the fatal and neglected English Upon our fields.

Dau. My most redoubted father,

It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe ; For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,

1 To line is to strengthen. Often so. See Macbeth, page 60, note 25.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 77

Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,

But that defences, musters, preparations.

Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected,

As were a war in expectation.

Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth

To view the sick and feeble parts of France :

And let us do it with no show of fear ;

No, with no more than if we heard that England

Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance : ^

For,, my good liege, she is so idly king'd,

Her sceptre so fantastically borne

By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous ^ youth,

That fear attends her not.

Co7i. O peace. Prince Dauphin !

You are too much mistaken in this King : Question your Grace the late ambassadors, — With what great state he heard their embassy, How well supplied with noble counsellors, How modest in exception,"* and withal How terrible in constant resolution, — And you shall find his vanities forespent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly ; As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots

2 Morris is an old corruption of Morisco. The morris-dance is thought to have sprung from the Moors, and to have come through Spain, where it is said to be still delighted in by both natives and strangers, under the name of Fandango.

3 Humorous is freakish, frolicsome, or governed by whims. Hotspur, having the same thing in view, calls him " the madcap Prince of Wales, ' See page 41, note 5.

4 That is, modest, or diffident in raising objections, in finding fault, 01 expressing disapproval or dissent.

78 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II

That shall first spring and be most delicate.

Dan. Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High-Constable ; But though we think it so, it is no matter : In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh The enemy more mighty than he seems : So the proportions of defence are fill'd ; Which ^ of a weak and niggardly projection, Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting A little cloth.

Fr. King. Think we King Harry strong ; And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. The kindred of him hath been flesh'd^ upon us ; And he is bred out of that bloody strain "^ That haunted us in our familiar paths : Witness our too-much memorable shame When Cressy batde fatally was struck. And all our princes captived by the hand Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales ; Whiles that his mighty sire — on mountain standing,^

5 The grammar of this passage is somewhat perplexed. Being is under- stood after which ; and not merely which, but the whole clause is the sub- ject of doth spoil. So that the meaning comes thus : The ordering of which after a weak and niggardly project or plan is like the work of a miser, who spoils his coat with scanting a little cloth. — For the meaning oi pro- portions, in the line before, see page 57, note 36.

6 To Jlesh, as the word is here used, is to feed as upon jlesh ; to satiate, Xo gorge. So in 2 Henry IV., iv. 5 : " The wild dog shall Jlesh his tooth in every innocent." For kindred senses of the same word see King John, page 126, note 5 ; and 2 Henry IV., page 62, note 19.

'* Strain for stock, lineage, or race. So in Julius Ccesar, v. i : "If thou wert the noblest of thy strain." See, also. Much Ado, page 54, note 34.

8 The battle of Cressy took place August 25, 1346, the Black Prince being then fifteen years old. The King had knighted him a short time before. During the battle, the King did in fact keep his station on the top of a hill, from whence he calmly surveyed the field of action, where the Prince was

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 79

Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun —

Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him,

Mangle the work of Nature, and deface

The patterns that by God and by French fathers

Had twenty years been made. This is a stem

Of that victorious stock ; and let us fear

The native mic^htiness and fate of him.

^&'

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Ambassadors from Harry King of England Do crave admittance to your Majesty.

Fr. Ki?ig. We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. — \_Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords. You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau. Turn head, and stop pursuit ; for coward dogs Most spend their mouths,^ when what they seem to threaten Runs far before them. Good my sovereign. Take up the English short ; and let them know Of what a monarchy you are the head : Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting.

Re-enter Lords, with Exeter and Train.

Fr. Kifig. From our brother England ?

Fxe. From him ; and thus he greets your Majesty.

in immediate command. When the fight was waxing hot and dangerous, the Earl of Warwick dispatched a messenger to the King to request suc- cours for the Prince. The King inquired if his son were killed or wounded, and, being answered in the negative, " Then," said he, " tell Warwick he shall have no assistance. Let the boy win his spurs. He and those who have him in charge shall earn the whole glory of the day." This reply is said to have so inspired the fighters, that they soon carried all before them, y Spendifig the month was the sportsman's phrase for barking.

80 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT II

He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,

That you divest yourself, and lay apart

The borrow'd glories, that, by gift of Heaven,

By law of Nature and of nations, 'long

To him and to his heirs ; namely, the crown.

And all wide-stretched honours that pertain.

By custom and the ordinance of times,

Unto the crown of France. That you may know

'Tis no sinister nor no awkward ^^ claim,

Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, /

Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,

He sends you this most memorable line,^i [_Gwes a paper.

In every branch truly demonstrative ;

Willing you overlook his pedigree :

And when you find him evenly derived

From his most famed of famous ancestors,

Edward the Third, he bids you then resign

Your crown and kingdom, indirectly ^^ held

From him the native and true challenger.

Fr. King. Or else what follows ?

Exe. Bloody constraint : for, if you hide the crown Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it : Therefore in fiery tempest is he coming, In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, That, if requiring fail, he will compel ; And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, Deliver up the crown ; and to take mercy

10 Awkward is here used in its primitive sense oi perverse or distortea.

11 Another instance of the passive and active forms used indiscriminately, — tnemorable for memorative, or that wliich reminds. — Line here is gene- alogy, or tracing of lineage.

12 Indirectly in the sense of tlie Latin indirectus ; unjustly or wrongfully. Repeatedly so. See King John, page 51, note 7.

SCENE III.

KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 8 1

On the poor souls for whom this hungry war Opens his vasty jaws : and on your head Turns he the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans, For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers. That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. This is his claim, his threatening, and my message ; Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, To whom expressly I bring greeting too.

F):. King. For us, we will consider of this further : To-morrow shall you bear our full intent Back to our brother England.

Dau. For the Dauphin,

I stand here for him : what to him from England ?

Exe. Scorn and defiance ; slight regard, contempt, And any thing that may not misbecome The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. Thus says my King : An if ^^ your father's Highness Do not, in grant of all demands at large, Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty, He'll call you to so hot an answer of it. That caves and womby vaultages of France Shall chide your trespass,^^ and return your mock In second accent of his ordinance. ^-^

Dau. Say, if my father render fair return. It is against my will ; for I desire Nothing but odds with England : to that end,

13 An if has the force of if simply, the two being used indifferently, and often both together, with the same sense.

14 Chide in the double sense of resound and of rebuke.

15 Ordinance for ordnance ; the trisyllabic form being used for metre's sake. See King John, page 59, note 32.

82 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

As matching to his youth and vanity, I did present him with the Paris balls.

Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, Were it the mistress-Court of mighty Europe : And be assured you'll find a difference, ,^^

As we his subjects have in wonder found, -^

Between the promise of his greener days And these he masters now : now he weighs time, Even to the utmost grain : that you shall read In your own losses, if he stay in France.

Fr, King. To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.

Exe. Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our King Come here himself to question our delay ; For he is footed in this land already.

Fr. King. You shall be soon dispatch 'd with fair condi- tions : A night is but small breath and little pause To answer matters of this consequence. \_Flourish. Exeunt.

ACT IIL

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Thus with imagined wing i our swift scene flies. In motion of no less celerity

Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen The well-appointed- King at Hampton pier

1 That is, with the wing of imagination. Imagined for imaginative ; stilJ another instance of the confusion of active and passive forms. See page 38, note 4.

2 "WeW-appointed, as often, for weW-equipped or yjG\\-/uniished. — Brave, in the next line, is splendid or superb; a frequent usage.

CHORUS. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 83

Embark his royalty ; and his brave fleet

With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning :

Play with your fancies ; and in them behold

Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing ;

Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give

To sounds confused ; behold the threaden sails,

Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind,

Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,

Breasting the lofty surge : O, do but think

You stand upon the rivage,^ and behold

A city on th' inconstant billows dancing ;

For so appears this fleet majestical,

Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow !

Grapple your minds to stemage ^ of this navy ;

And leave your England, as dead midnight still,

Guarded with grandsire, babies, and old women.

Either past, or not arrived to, pith and puissance ;

For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd

With one appearing hair, that will not follow

These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?

Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege j

Behold the ordnance on their carriages.

With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.

Suppose th' ambassador from the French comes back ;

Tells Harry that the King doth ofler him

Catharine his daughter ; and with her, to ^ dowry.

Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.

3 Rivage, the bank, or shore ; rivage, Fr.

■* Stemage and steerage were formerly synonymous ; so also were sterns- man and steersman. And the stern being the place of the rudder, the words were used indifferently.

5 To is here equivalent to as ox for. See The Tempest, page 113, note 13.

84 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

The offer likes not : ^ and the nimble gunner With Hnstock '^ now the devilish cannon touches,

\_AIa?'U7U, and chaiiibers go off, within. M And down goes all before them. Still be kind, And eke out our performance with your mind. \_Exif.

Scene I. — France. Before Harfleur.

Alarums. Enter Kifig Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloster, a7id Soldiers, with scaling-ladders.

King! Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once rtiore ; "^^

Or close the wall up with our English dead ! (^In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility 7/ But, when the blast of war blows m our ears. Then imitate the action of the tiger ; , ,^'^. ^

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,^-jJ;^ V ^ /

Disguise fair nature with hard-fa}^our'd rage jj >- .

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; ^V'^

Let it pry through the portage ^ of the head Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.^

6 The offer pleases not. This use of to tiie is very frequent.

7 Linstock was a stick with linen at one end, used as a match for firing guns. — Chambers were small pieces of ordnance. They were used on the stage, and the Globe Theatre was burnt by a discharge of them in 1613.

1 Shakespeare uses portage for loop-holes ox port-holes.

2 To Jutty is to project; Jutties, or jetties, are projecting moles to break the force of the waves. — Confounded is vexed, or troubled. — SioiH'd

SCENE I. KING HENRY Trft FIFTH. 8^

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide ;

Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit

To his full height ! — On, on, you noble English,

Whose blood is fet ^ from fathers of war-proof !

Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,

Have in these parts from morn till even fought.

And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument :

Dishonour not your mothers ; now attest

That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you !

Be copy"* now to men of grosser blood.

And teach them how to war ! — And you, good yeomen,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not ;

For there is none of you so mean and base,

That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

Straining upon the start. The game's afoot :^

Follow your spirit ; and, upon this charge.

Cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!

\_Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off, within.

Enter Nym, Bardolpk, Pistol, and the Boy.

Bard. On, on, on, on, on ! to the breach, to the breach !

anciently was used for " wash'd much or long, drowned, surrounded by water."

3 Fet is an old form oi fetched. Shakespeare has it several times.

4 Copy is here used for the thing copied, that is, ihe pattern or model. — " Men oi grosser blood " are men of lower rank simply, — the "good yeo- men " who are next addressed.

5 The Poet seems to have relished the old English sport of hunting, and he abounds in terms of the chase. In hunting foxes, for instance, the hounds were held back in slips or strings, till the game was got out of its hole, when it was said to be a-foot. See Prologue, page 38.

86 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

JVym. Pray thee, corporal, stay : the knocks are too hot ; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives : ^ the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain-song''' of it.

Fi's/. The plain-song is most just ; for humours do abound :

Knocks go ami come ; God^s vassals drop and die ; And sword and sliield, in bloody field, Doth 7vin immortal fame.

Boy. Would I were in an alehouse in London ! I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. Pist. And I :

If wishes would prevail ivith me, My purpose should not fail with me,

But thither would I hie. Boy. As duly, but not as truly.

As bird doth sing o?t bough.

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Got's plood ! — Up to the preaches, you rascals ! will you not up to the preaches? [Driving them forward.

Pist. Be merciful, great duke,^ to men of mould ! Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage ! Abate thy rage, great duke ! Good bawcock, bate thy rage ! use lenity, sweet chuck !^

6 " A case of lives " is a pair of lives ; as " a case of pistols," " a case of poniards," " a case of masks."

7 Plain-song -wsls used of the uniform modulation of the old simple chant.

8 That is, great commaiider ; duke being only a translation of the Latin dux. — " Men of jnould" is men of earth, poor mortal men.

9 Bawcock and chuck were terms of playful familiarity or endearment ; the one being from the French beau cog, the other a corruption of chicken. See Twelfth Night, page loo, note 8.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 87

Nym. These be good humours ! your honour wins bad humours. {^Exeunt^x^i, Bardolph, and Yi^toi., followed

by Fluellen.

Boy. As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers.!*^ I am boy to them all three : but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me ; for, indeed, three such antics ^^ do not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and red-faced ; by the means whereof 'a faces it out, but fights not.^^ For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword ; by the means whereof 'a breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath heard that men of few words are the best men ; ^^ and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest 'a should be thought a coward : but his few bad words are match'd with as few good deedsj for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal any thing, and call it purchase.!^ Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three- halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filch- ing ; and in Calais they stole a fire-shovel : I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals. ^^ They would

1" A swasher is a swaggerer, blusterer, or braggart.

11 An antic is a buffoon. The word was also used of certain pictured oddities, such as would now be called caricatures. See Much Ado, page 69, note 4.

12 Has plenty of valour in his face, but none in his heart, and so fights with looks, not with blows; that is, substitutes impudence for valour. Lily-liver d was a common epithet for a coward. See King Richard III., page 175, note 39.

13 " The best men " are the bravest men, in Nym's dialect. So, a little after, ''good deeds " are brave deeds.

I'l Purchase was a word of equivocal meaning in Shakespeare's time,

and was often used as a euphemism for theft. See / Henry IV., p. 88, n. 22.

15 As carrying coals was the lowest office in ancient households, the

88 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their handkerchers : which makes much against my man- hood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine ; for it is plain pocketing-up of wrongs.i^ I must leave them, and seek some better service : their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up.

\_Exit Re-e7iter Fluellen, Govf^ER following.

Gow. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines ; the Duke of Gloster would speak with you.

Flu. To the mines ! tell you the duke, it is not so goot to come to the mines ; for, look you, the mines is not according to the disciplines of the wars : the concavities of it is not sufficient ; for, look you, th' athversary — you may discuss unto the duke, look you — is diggt himself l^ four yard under the countermines : by Cheshu, I think 'a will plow up all, if there is not better directions.

Gow. The Duke of Gloster, to whom the order of the siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i'faith.

Flu. It is Captain Macmorris, is it not ?

Gow. I think it be.

Flu. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the 'orld : I will verify as much in his peard : he has no more directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.

phrase became a proverb of reproach. So, in Romeo and Juliet, i. i, Sampson says to his fellow-servant, " Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals" : meaning that, if that reproach be spit at him, he will fight.

16 " Pocketing-up of wrongs " is an old phrase for putting up with in- salts instead of resenting them. See / Henry IV., page 147, note 24.

17 Has dug his mines. Properly the order of the words should be re- versed ; as it is the besiegers who mine, and the besieged who countermine.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 89

Gow. Here a' comes ; and the Scots captain, Captain J amy, with him.

Flu. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is certain ; and of great expedition and knowledge in th' auncient wars, upon my particular knowledge of his direc- tions : by Cheshu, he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the 'orld, in the disciplines of the pris- tine wars of the Romans.

Enter Macmorris and Jamy.

Jamy. I say gude-day, Captain Fluellen.

Flu. Got-den^® to your Worship, goot Captain Jamy.

Gow. How now, Captain Macmorris ! have you quit the mines? have the pioneers ^^ given o'er?

Mac. By Chrish, la, tish ill done ; the work ish give over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done ; it ish give over : I would have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour : O, tish ill done, tish ill done ; by my hand, tish ill done !

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I peseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of the wars, the Ro- man wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication ? partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline ; that is the point.

Jamy. It sail be vary gude, gude feith, gude captains

18 Good-den or god-den was a familiar corruption olgood day.

19 Pioneers are a class of soldiers who take the lead in siege operations; military engineers.

90 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT ill.

baith : and I sail quit you with gude leve,^^ as I may pick occasion ; that sail I, mary.

Mac. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me ; the day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the King, and the duke : it is no time to discourse. The town is be- seech'd,^! and the trompet calls us to the breach ; and we talk, and, by Chrish, do nothing : 'tis shame for us all : so God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still ; it is shame, by my hand : and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done ; and there is nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la.

Jmny. By the Mess, ere theise eyes of mine take them- selves to slomber, ai'l do gude service, or ai'l lig-"-^ i' the grund for it : ay, or go to death ; and ai'l pay't as valor- ously as I may, that sail I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Mary, I wad full fain heard some question ^^ 'tween you 'tway.

Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation —

Mac. Of my nation ! What ish my nation ? what ish my nation ? Who talks of my nation is a villain, and a basterd, and a knave, and a rascal.

Flu. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant. Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me with that affability as m discretion you ought to use me, look you ; being as goot a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of wars, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

2" I shall, with your permission, requite you ; that is, answer you.

21 Captain Macmorris means, apparently, not that the town is besieged, for that has been going on for some time, but that it is summoned or chal- lenged to surrender.

22 Lig is the valiant and argumentative Scotchman's word for lie.

23 Here, as often, question is talk, discourse, or conversation. See The Winter s Tale, page 155, note 13.

SCENE II, KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 9I

Mac. I do not know you so good a man as myself : so Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.

Gow. Gentlemen both, you still mistake each other. Jamy. A ! that's a foul fault. \_A parley sounded.

Gow. The town sounds a parley.

Flu. Captain Macmorris, when there is more petter op- portunity to be required, look you, I will be so pold as to tell you I know the disciplines of wars ; and there is an end.

\_Exeunt.

Scene II. — The Same. Before the gates of Harfleur.

The Governor and some Citizens on the ivalls ; the English Forces below. Enter King Henry and his Train.

King. How yet resolves the governor of the town ? This is the latest parle we will admit : Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves ; 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 I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur Till in her ashes she lie buried. The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ; And the flesh'd soldier,^ — rough and hard of heart, — In liberty of bloody hand shall range With conscience wide as Hell ; mowing like grass

1 Flesh'd, here, is made fierce, as bloodhounds are by the taste or smell of blood. Probably the sense of being seasoned or indurated with acts of cruelty is also involved. So in Richard III., iv. 3 : " Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn to do this ruthless piece of butchery, albeit they were JLesKd villains, bloody dogs," &c.

g2 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.

What is it then to me, if impious war, —

Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends, —

Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats

Enlink'd to waste and desolation ?

What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,

If your pure maidens fall into the hand

Of hot and forcing violation ?

What rein can hold licentious wickedness

When down the hill he holds his fierce career?

We may as bootless spend our vain command

Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil.

As send precepts to the leviathan

To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,

Take pity of your town and of ^ your people,

Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command ;

Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace

O'erblows^ the filthy and contagious clouds

Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.

If not, why, in a moment, look to see

The bUnd and bloody soldier with foul hand,

Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters ;

Your fathers taken by the silver beards.

And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls ;

Your naked infants spitted"* upon pikes,

Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused

2 (9/ and on were used indifferently in such cases.

3 To overblow, here, is to blo7i) or drive aivay, or keep off.

4 A spit was an iron rod, to thrust through a fowl or piece of meat, so as to place it before the fire, and keep it turning till roasted. Hence the phrase " done to a turn." The word came to be used, as here, in a more general application. See Much Ado, page 49, note 22.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 93

Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. What say you ? will you yield, and this avoid ? Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd ?

Gov. Our expectation hath this day an end : The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated. Returns us, that his powers are not yet ready To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread King, We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. Enter our gates ; dispose of us and ours ; For we no longer are defensible. ^

King. Open your gates. — Come, uncle Exeter, Go you and enter Harfleur ; there remain, And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French : Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, — The Winter coming on, and sickness growing Upon our soldiers, — we'll retire to Calais. To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest ; To-morrow for the march are we addrest.

[^Flourish. The King, d^c, enter the town.

Scene HI. — Rouen^ A Room in the Palace.

Enter Catharine and Alice.^

Cath. Alice, tu as etc en Angleterre, et tu paries bien le langage.

5 Defensible for defensive, or capable of defence ; the passive form with the active sense. So in many words. See 2 Henry IV., page 95, note 3.

6 The dramatic purpose of this scene, if it have any, is not very obvious. But there is something of humour, at least there would be to an English audience, in the compliments Alice bestows upon the Princess in assuring her that she speaks English as mcU as the English themselves. And there is still more of humour implied in the act of thus preparing a conquest of

94 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

Alice. Un peu, madame.

Cath. Je te prie m'enseignez ; ilfaut que f apprenne aparler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglais ?

Alice. La main ? elle est appelee de hand.

Cath. De hand. Et les doigts ?

Alice. Les doigts? ma/oi, foublie les doigts; mais je me souviendrai. Les doigts ?je pense quHls sontappeles de fingres ; oui, de fingres.

Cath. La mai?i, de hand ; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que je suis le bon ecolier ; j^ai gagne deux mots d^ Anglais vitement. Cofument appelez-vous les ongles ?

Alice. Les 07igles ? nous les appelons de nails.

Cath. De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je park bien : de hand, de fingres, et de nails.

Alice. C'est bien dit, madajne ; il est fort bon Anglais.

Cath. Dites-moi I'Afiglais pour le bras.

Alice. De arm, inadame.

Cath. Et le coude ?

Alice. De elbow.

Cath. De elbow. Je m^efifais la repetition de tous les mots que vous 7ft''avez appris des a present.

Alice. // est trap difficile, madame, comme je pense.

Cath. Excusez-moi, Alice ; ecoutez : de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de bilbow.

Alice. De elbow, madame.

Cath. O Seigneur Dieu^je m'en oublie / de elbow. Co?n- ment appelez-votis le col?

France by introducing a French Princess learning to chop English. As the marriage is an essential part of the dramatic argument, it was doubtless in keeping with the Poet's method to represent Catharine in the process of learning the hero's tongue ; which could only be done by mixing up the two languages in a scene or two.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 95

Alice. De neck, ?nadame.

CatJi. De nick. Et le menton ?

Alice. De chin.

Cath. De sin. Le col, de nick ; le 7nenton, de sin.

Alice. Oui. Sauf voire honneur, en verite, vous prononcez les mots aussi droit que les natifs d 'Angleterre.

Cath. Je ne doute point d^apprendi-e, par la grace de Dieu, et en peu de temps.

AHce. N' avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai en- seigne ?

Cath. Non,je reciterai a vous prompte7nent : de hand, de fingres, de mails, —

Alice. De nails, madame.

Cath. De nails, de arm, de ilbow.

Alice. Sauf voire homieur, de elbow.

Cath. Aifisi dis-Je ; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Co?n- ment appelez-vous le pied et la robe ?

Alice. De foot, 7nadame ; et de coun.

Cath. De foot et de coun ! O Seigneur Dieu ! ce sont mots de son fnauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les dames d^ho7ineur d'user : je tie voudrais prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. IlfautdQ foot et de coun neanmoins. Je reciterai une autre fois ma leqon ensemble : de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun.

Alice. Excellent, madame !

Cath. C'est assez pour une fois : allons-nous a diner.

[Exeunt.

96 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III,

Scene IV. — The Sa7ne. Another R00771 in the Sa^ne.

Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Duke of Bourbon, the Constable of France, and others.

Fr. Kifig. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.

Con. And if he be not fought withal, my lord, Let us not live in France ; let us quit all. And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.

Dau. O Dieu vivant ! shall a few sprays ^ of us. Our scions, put in wild and savage stock. Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds. And overlook their grafters ?

Bour, Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards ! Mort de ma vie, if they march along Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom. To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm In that nook-shotten ^ isle of Albion.

Con. Dieu de batailles / whence have they this mettle? Is not their cHmate foggy, raw, and dull ; On whom, as in despite, the Sun looks pale. Killing their fruit with frowns ? Can sodden water, A drench for sur-rein'd jades,-^ their barley-broth,* Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat ?

1 sprays is shoots, sprigs, or sprouts ; alluding to the origin of the Anglo- Norman stock.

- Shotten signifies any thing projected ; so nook-shotten isle is an isle that shoots out into capes, promontories, and necks of land, the very figure of Great Britain.

3 Sur-rein'd is probably over-ridden or over-strained. It was common to give horses, over-ridden or feverish, ground malt and hot water mixed, which was called a mash. — Barley-broth is probably meant as a French- man's sneer at English ale, or beer.

SCENE IV. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 9/

And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,

Seem frosty ? O, for honour of our land.

Let us not hang like roping icicles

Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people

Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields, —

Poor we may call them in their native lords !

Dau. By faith and honour, Our madams mock at us, and plainly say Our mettle is bred out.

Bour. They bid us to the English dancing-schools, And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos ; ^ Saying our grace is only in our heels. And that we are most lofty runaways.

Fr. King. Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence ; Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. — Up, princes ! and, with spirit of honour edged More sharper than your swords, hie to the field : Charles Delabreth,^ High-Constable of France ; You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, Alen^on, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy ; Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg,

•* The coranto was a lively dance for two persons. See Twelfth Night, page 40, note 22. — The lavolta\\2i% a dance of Italian origin, and seems to have been something like the modern waltz, only, perhaps, rather more so. It is thus described by Sir John Davies

A lofty jumping, or a leaping round,

Where arm in arm two dancers are entwin'd,

And whirl themselves with strict embracements bound.

And still their feet an anapest do sound.

^ This should be Charles D'Albret ; but the metre would not admit of the change. Shakespeare followed Holinshed, who calls him Delabreth.

98 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois ;

High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights,

For your great seats, now quit^ you of great shames.

Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land

With pennons painted in the blood of Harfieur :

Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow

Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat

The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon :

Go down upon him, — you have power enough, —

And in a captive chariot into Rouen

Bring him our prisoner.

Con. This becomes the great.

Sorry am I his numbers are so few. His soldiers sick, and famish'd in their march ; For I am sure, when he shall see our army. He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear. And, for achievement, offer us his ransom."

Fr. King. Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy ; And let him say to England, that we send To know what willing ransom he will give. — Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.

Dau. Not so, I do beseech your Majesty.

Fr. King. Be patient ; for you shall remain with us. — Now forth, Lord Constable, and princes all, And quickly bring us word of England's fall. \_Fxeu?it.

6 Quii ior acquit; the sense being clear, release, or exonexaXe yourselves. See As You Like It, page 78, note 2.

7 That is, instead 0/ achieving a victory over us, make a proposal to buy himself off with a ransom.

SCENE V. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 99

Scene V. — The English Caynp in Picardy. Enter, severally, Gower and Fluellen.

Gow. How now, Captain Fluellen ! come you from the bridge ?

Flu. I assure you, there is very excellent services com- mitted at the pridge.i

Gow. Is the Duke of Exeter safe ?

Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamem- non ; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and my uttermost power : he is not — Got be praised and plessed ! — any hurt in the 'orld ; but keeps the pridge most val- iantly, with excellent discipline. There is an auncient there at the pridge, — I think in my very conscience he is as val- iant a man as Mark Antony ; and he is a man of no estima- tion in the 'orld ; but I did see him do gallant sersice.

Gow. What do you call him ?

Flu. He is call'd Auncient Pistol.

Gow. I know him not.

Flu. Here is the man.

Enter Pistol.

Pist. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours : The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

1 After Henry had passed the Somme, the French endeavoured to inter- cept him in his passage to Calais ; and for that purpose attempted to break down the only bridge that there was over the small river of Ternois. But Henry, having notice of their design, sent a part of his troops before him, who, attacking and putting the French to flight, preserved the bridge till the whole English army arrived and passed over it.

lOO KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

Flu. Ay, I praise Got ; and I have merited some love at his hands.

Pist. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, Of buxom 2 valour, hath, by cruel fate, And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, — That goddess blind. That stands upon the rolling, restless stone, —

Flu. By your patience, Auncient Pistol. Fortune is painted plind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is pHnd ; and she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation : and her foot, fixed upon a spherical stone, which

rolls, and rolls, and rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of it : Fortune is an excellent moral.

Pist. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him ; For he hath stolen a pax,*^ and hanged must 'a be, A damned death !

Let gallows gape for dog ; let man go free. And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate : But Exeter hath given the doom of death For pax of little price.

Therefore, go speak ; the duke will hear thy voice ; And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut With edge of penny cord and vile reproach :

2 In the Saxon and our elder English, buxo?n meant pliant, yielding; obedient ; but it was also used for lusty, rampant. Pistol would be more likely to take the popular sense than one founded on etymology.

3 The pax is said to have been a small piece of plate, sometimes with the Crucifixion engraved or embossed upon it, which at a certain point in the Mass was offered to the laity to be kissed : Osculatoriutn was another name for it.

SCENE V. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. lOI

Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.

Flu. Auncient Pistol, I do partly understand your mean- ing.

Pist. Why, then rejoice therefore.

Flu. Certainly, auncient, it is not a thing to rejoice at : for if, look you, he were my prother, I would desire the duke to use his goot pleasure, and put him to execution ; for dis- cipline ought to be used.

Pist. Die and be damn'd ! andy^^r^' for thy friendship !

Flu. It is well.

Pist. The fig of Spain '.^ \^Exit.

Flu. Very goot.

Gow. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal ; I remem- ber him now ; a cutpurse.

Flu. I'll assure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at the pridge as you shall see in a Summer's day. But it is very well ; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.

Gow,. Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself, at his return into London, under the form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names : and they will learn you by rote where services were done ; at such and such a sconce,^ at such a breach, at such a convoy ; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgraced, what terms the enemy stood

4 What is here called " the fig of Spain " was by no means confined to that country, nor did it originate there. It was a coarse gesture of con- temptuous insult, made by thrusting the thumb between the middle and fore fingers, so as to form a rude likeness to a certain disease which was called \hQ.ficus as far back at least as the days of classic Rome.

5 A sconce was a blockhouse or chief fortress, for the most part round in fashion of a head ; hence the head is ludicrously called a sconce ; a lantern was also called a sconce, because of its round form.

I02 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

on ; and this they con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-coined oaths : and what a beard of the general's cut,^ and a horrid suit of the camp, will do among foaming bottles and ale-washed wits, is wonderful to be thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age,"^ or else you may be marvellously mistook.

Flu. I tell you what, Captain Gower; I do perceive he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the 'orld he is : if I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. \_Drum wkhin.'] Hark you, the King is coming ; and I mus*" speak with him from the pridge.^ —

Efiter King Henry, Gloster, and Soldiers.

Got pless your Majesty !

King. How now, Fluellen ! camest thou from the bridge ?

Flu. Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintain'd the pridge : the French is gone off, look you ; and there is gallant and most prave passages : marry, th' athversary was have possession of the pridge ; but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge : I can tell your Majesty, the duke is a prave man.

King. What men have you lost, Fluellen ?

Flu. The perdition of th' athversary hath been very great, reasonable great : marry, for my part, I think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, — one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the

6 The English used to be very particular about the cut of their beards. Certain ranks and callings had'their peculiar style; and soldiers appear to have affected what was called the spade cut and the stilletto cut.

"' Nothing was more common than such huffcap pretending braggarts as Pistol in the Poet's age ; they are the continual subject of satire to his con- temporaries.

8 " I must tell him what was done at the bridge."

SCENE v= KING HENRY THE FIFTH. IO3

man : his face is all bubukles, and whelks,^ and knobs, and flames o' fire ; and his hps plows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red ; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.

King. We would have all such offenders so cut off: and we give express charge that, in our marches through the country, there be nothing compell'd from the villages, nothing taken but paid iox}^ none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful language ; for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.

Tucket sounds. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. You know me by my habit. ^^

King. Well, then I know thee : what shall I know of thee ?

Mont. My master's mind.

King. Unfold it.

Mont. Thus says my King : Say thou to Harry of Eng- land : Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleep ; advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him, we could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full ripe : ^^ now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial. England shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him, therefore, consider of his ransom ; which must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost, the dis- grace we have digested ; which, in weight to re-answer, his

9 Bubukles are blotches or botches ; whelks are pustules or wheals.

If* That is, nothing taken without being paid for. This use of but with the force oi without occurs repeatedly. See Hamlet, page 68, note 3.

11 The person of a herald being, by the laws of war, inviolable, was dis- tinguished by a richly-emblazoned dress.

1"^ The implied image is of a sore, as a boil or carbuncle, which is best let alone till it has come to a head. — Cue is used in the sense of turn.

104 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

pettiness would bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is too poor ; for the effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too faint a number; and, for our disgrace, his own person, kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satis- faction. To this add defiance : and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betray'd his followers, whose condemnation is pro- nounced. So far my King and master ; so much my office.

King. What is thy name ? I know thy quality.

Mont. Montjoy.

King. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back, And tell thy King, I do not seek him now ; But could be willing to march on to Calais Without impeachment : ^^ for, to say the sooth, — Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,^'* — My people are with sickness much enfeebled ; My numbers lessen'd ; and those few I have, Almost no better than so many French ; Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald, I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. — Yet, forgive me, God, That I do brag thus ! — this your air of France Hath blown that vice in me ; ^^ I must repent. Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am ; My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk ; My army but a weak and sickly guard :

13 Without impedimetit ; an old use of impeachment, now obsolete. Thus in Holinshed : " But the passage was now so impeached with stakes in the botome of the foord, that he could not passe."

14 An enemy both cunning in arts of strategy and having the advantage in ground and numbers.

15 " Hath puffed me up with that vanity."

SCENE VL KING HENRY THE FIFTH. IO5

Yet, God before,"' tell him we will come on, Though France himself, and such another neighbour, Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.

\_Gi7U's a purse Go, bid thy master well advise himself: ^"^ If we may pass, we will ; if we be hinder'd, We shall your tawny ground with your red blood Discolour : and so, Montjoy, fare you well. 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 : So tell your master.

Mont. I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness.

\^Exit

Glo. I hope they will not come upon us now.

King. We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs. March to the bridge ; it now draws toward night : Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves ; And on to-morrow bid them march away. \_Exeunt.

Scene VI. — The French Camp, 7iear Agineonrt

Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, the Duke of Orleans, the Dauphin, and others.

Con. Tut ! I have the best armour of the world. — Would it were day !

Orl. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.

Con. It is the best horse of Europe.

16 That is, " God being our guide." See page 57, note 37.

1'^ Advise, again, as before : bethink himself, consider. Page 54, note 27,

I06 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IIL

Orl. Will it never be morning?

Dau. My Lord of Orleans, and my Lord High-Constable, you talk of horse and armour, —

OrL You are as well provided of both as any prince in the world.

Dau. What a long night is this ! — I will not change my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. Qa, ha! he bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were hairs ; ^ le cheval volant, the Pegasus, qui a les narines de feu ! When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk : he trots the air ; the earth sings when he touches it ; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.

OrL He's of the colour of the nutmeg.

Dau. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for Perseus : he is pure air and fire ; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him,^ but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him : he is, indeed, a horse ; and all other jades you may call beasts.^

Con. Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.

Dau. It is the prince of palfreys ; his neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage.

Orl. No more, cousin.

1 Alluding to the bounding of tennis-balls, which were stuffed with hair.

2 Alluding to the ancient doctrine that men and animals, as well as other things, were all made up of the four elements, earth, water, air, and fire, and that the higher natures were rendered so by the preponderance of the two latter in their composition. Thus, in Ank>ny and Cleopatra, v. 2, the heroine says, "I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life." The Poet has divers allusions to the doctrine.

3 It appears from this \h2Xjade and horse were sometimes used simply as equivalent terms. On the other hand, beast is here meant to convey a note of contempt, like the haXin j'umeNtum, as of an animal fit only for the cart or packsaddle.

SCENE VI. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. IO7

Dau. Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from the rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary deserved praise on my palfrey : it is a theme as fluent as the sea j turn the sands into eloquent tongues, and my horse is argument for them all : 'tis a subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's sovereign to ride on ; and for the world, famihar to us and unknown, to lay apart their particular functions, and wonder at him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise, and began thus : Wonder of Nature, —

Orl. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.

Dau. Then did they imitate that which I composed to my courser ; for my horse is my mistress.

Orl. Your mistress bears well.

Dau. Me well ; which is the prescript praise and perfec- tion of a good and particular mistress.

Con. Mafoi, methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly shook your back.

Dau. So, perhaps, did yours.

Con. Mine was not bridled.

Dau. I tell thee, Constable, my mistress wears her own hair."*

Con. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a sow to my mistress.

Dau. Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et la truie lavee au bourbier^ : thou makest use of any thing.

4 Referring to the custom which some ladies had, as, it is said, some still have, of wearing hair not their own. The Dauphin is jibing and flouting the Constable upon the presumed qualities of the lady whom he calls his mistress. See The Merchant, page 142, note 19.

5 It has been remarked that Shakespeare was habitually conversant with his Bible : we have here a strong presumptive proof that he read it, at least occasionally, in French. This passage will be found almost literally in the Geneva Bible, 1588. 2 Peter, ii. 22.

I08 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT ill.

Con. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress ; or any such proverb, so little kin to the purpose.

Ram. My Lord Constable, the armour that I saw in your tent to-night, are those stars or suns upon it?

Coti. Stars, my lord.

Dati. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.

Con. And yet my sky shall not want.

Dau. That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and 'twere more honour some were away.

Con. Even as your horse bears your praises ; who would trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted.

Dau. Would I were able to load him with his desert ! — Will it never be day ? — I will trot to-morrow a mile, and my way shall be paved with English faces.

Con. I will not say so, for fear I should be faced out of my way : but I would it were morning ; for I would fain be about the ears of the English.

Ram. Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners ?

Con. You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you have them.

Dau. Tis midnight ; I'll go arm myself. S^Exit.

Orl. The Dauphin longs for morning.

Ram. He longs to eat the English.

Con. I think he will eat all he kills.

Orl. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.

Con. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.^

Orl. He is, simply, the most active gentleman of France.

Con. Doing is activity ; and he will still be doing J

Orl. He never did harm, that I heard of.

6 To tread out an oath is to dance it out, probably.

7 Here, as often, still is continually or always.

SCENE VI. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. IO9

Con. Nor will do none to-morrow : he will keep that good name still.

Orl. I know him to be valiant.

Co7i. I was told that by one that knows him better than you.

Orl. What's he?

Con. Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he cared not who knew it.

Orl. He needs not ; it is no hidden virtue in him.

Con. By my faith, sir, but it is ; never any body saw it but his lacquey : 'tis a hooded valour ; and when it appears, it will bate.^

Orl. Ill-will never said well.

Con. I will cap that proverb with — There is flattery in friendship.

Orl. And I will take up that with — Give the Devil his due.

Con. Well placed : there stands your friend for the Devil : have at the very eye of that proverb, with — A pox of the Devil.

Orl. You are the better at proverbs, by how much — A fool's bolt^ is soon shot.

Co7i. You have shot over.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot. ^^

Enter a Messenger.

8 This pun depends upon the equivocal use of bate. When a hawk is unhooded, her first action is to bate, that is, beat her wings, or flutter. The Constable would insinuate that the Dauphin's courage, when he prepares for encounter, will bate, that is, soon diminish or evaporate. Hooded is blindfolded.

9 A bolt was a short, thick, blunt arrow, for shooting near objects, and so requiring little or no skill. See Much Ado, page 25, note 6.

1'^ Overshot, here, probably means disgraced or put to shame ; though one of its meanings is intoxicated.

I lO KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT III.

Mess. My Lord High-Constable, the Enghsh He within fifteen hundred paces of your tents.

Coti. Who hath measured the ground ?

Mess. The Lord Grandpre.

Con. A vahant and most expert gendeman. — Would it were day ! — Alas, poor Harry of England ! he longs not for the dawning, as we do.

Orl. What a wretched and peevish ^^ fellow is this King of England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so far out of his knowledge !

Con. If the English had any apprehension, i~ they would run away.

Orl. That they lack ; for if their heads had any intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.

Rajn. That island of England breeds very valiant crea- tures ; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

Orl. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crush 'd like rotten apples ! Vou may as well say, that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

Con. Just, just ; and the men do sympathize with the mas- tiffs in robustious and rough coming-on, leaving their wits with their wives : and then give them great meals of beef, and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.

Orl. - Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.

11 Peevish was often used in the sense of mad ox foolish. So in The Com- edy of Errors, iv, i : " How now ! a madman ? why, thou peevish sheep, what ship of Epidamnum stays for me?" — To mope is to move or act languidly or drowsily, or as in a half-conscious state. — The Poet uses fat- brain'd ixnd fat-witted for dull or stupid.

12 Apprehension for mental quickness, intelligence, or aptness to perceive; as to apprehend is, properly, to grasp, seize, or lay hold of.

CHORUS. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. Ill

Con. Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm ; come, shall we about it ?

Orl. It is now two o'clock : but, let me see, — by ten We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. \_Exeu?it.

ACT IV.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring ^ dark Fills the wide vessel of the Universe. From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels- almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch : Fire answers fire ; and through their paly flames Each battle sees the other's umber'd^ face : Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear ; and from the tents,

1 'Yo pore is to look intently, heedfuUy, or with strained vision ; and por- ing \^ here, no doubt, an instance of what is called transferred epithet : the darkness in which we look as aforesaid, ox grope.

2 That is, the sentinels stationed, or remaining at their posts. — That has the force of so that ; a very frequent usage.

3 It has been said that the distant visages of the soldiers would appear of an umber colour when beheld through the light of midnight fires. I suspect that nothing more is meant than shadow' d face. The epithet paly fiames is against the other interpretation. Umbre for shadow is common in our elder writers.

112 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

The armourers, accomplishing the knights,

With busy hammers closing rivets up,^

Give dreadful note of preparation :

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,

And the third hour of drowsy morning name.

Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul,

The confident and over-lusty French

Do the low-rated English play at dice ;- '

And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,

Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp

So tediously away. The poor condemned English,

Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires

Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The morning's danger ; and their gesture sad

Investing lank-lean cheeks,^ and war-worn coats,

Presenteth them unto the gazing Moon

So many horrid ghosts. O, now, who will behold

The royal captain of this ruin'd band

4 This does not solely refer to the riveting the plate armour before it was put on, but also to a part when it was on. The top of the cuirass had a little projecting bit of iron that passed through a hole in the bottom of the casque. When both were put on, the armourer presented himself, with his riveting hammer, fo close the rivet up.

5 The Poet took this from Holinshed : " The Frenchmen in the meane while, as though they had beene sure of victorie, made great triumph ; for the capteins had determined how to divide the spoile, and the soldiers the night before had plaid the Englishmen at dice."

6 The metaphor of a gesture investing cheeks seems rather harsh and strained. ^\x\ gesture, in the sense of the Latin original, may very well be used of a look, or any form of expression addressed to the eye. And to speak of a look as overspreading or covering the face, is legitimate enough. We have a like figure in Much Ado, iv. i : " I am so attired in wonder." Also, in Sidney's Astrophel : " Anger invests the face with a lovely grace." — Perhaps it sliould be added that and connects coats to gesture, not to cheeks : " and their war-worn coats." See Critical Notes.

CHORUS. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. II3

Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,

Let him cry, Praise and gloiy on his head f

For forth he goes and visits all his host ;

Bids them good morrow \\ith a modest smile,

And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.

Upon his royal face there is no note

How dread an army hath enrounded him ;

Nor doth he de^^^'" one jot of colour

Unto the weary and all-watched night ;

But freshly looks, and over-bears attaint'

With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty ;

That every wretch, pining and pale before.

Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks :

A largess universal, like the Sun,

His liberal eye doth give to ever}' one.

Thawing cold fear ; that mean and gentle all

Behold, as may unworthiness define,

A little touch of Harry in the night.^

And so our scene must to the battle fly ;

Where — O for pity ! — we shall much disgrace

With four or five most vile and ragged foils.

Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous.

The name of Agincourt. Yet, sit and see ;

Minding 9 true things by what their mockeries be. \_Exit.

' Attaint, or tamt, was often used for attainture or attainder, in the sense of impeachment or accusation. The meaning is, that the King by his brave and cheerful look overcomes all disposition on the part of the soldiers to blame or reproach him for the plight they are in.

8 The meaning, as I take it, is, " so that, to describe the thing inade- quately, men of all ranks in the army get a little glimpse or taste of Harry in the night." See Critical Notes.

'-* Minding, here, is the same as calling to mind.

I 14 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Scene I. — France. The EfigUsh Camp at Agincourt.

Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloster.

King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger ; The greater therefore should our courage be. — Good morrow, brother Bedford. — God Almighty ! There is some soul of goodness in things evil. Would men observingly distil it out ; For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers. Which is both healthful and good husbandry : Besides, they are our outward consciences. And preachers to us all ; admonishing That we should 'dress ^ us fairly for our end. Thus may we gather honey from the weed. And make a moral of the Devil himself. —

Etifer Erpingham.

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham : A good soft pillow for that good white head Were better than a churlish turf of France.

E7-p. Not so, my Hege : this lodging likes me better, Since I may say, Now lie I like a kiiig.

King. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains Upon example ; so the spirit is eased : And, when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt The organs, though defunct and dead before, Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move

1 Here 'dress is a contraction of address, which the Poet often uses for make ready ox prepare. So in Macbeth, i. 7 : " Was the hope drunk wherein you ^ dress' d yourself? " See, also. As You Like It, page 139, note 24.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. II5

With casted slough and fresh legerity.^ Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. — Brothers both. Commend me to the princes in our camp ; Do my good morrow to them ; and anon Desire them all to my pavilion.

Glo, We shall, my liege.

*Erp, Shall I attend your Grace?

Kmg. No, my good knight ;

Go with my brothers to my lords of England : I and my bosom must debate awhile. And then I would no other company.

Erp, The Lord in Heaven bless thee, noble Harry !

\_Exeunt Gloster, Bedford, and Erpingham.

King. God-a-mercy, old heart ! thou speak'st cheerfully.

Enter Pistol.

Pist. Qui va la ?

King. A friend.

Pist. Discuss unto me ; art thou officer? Or art thou base, common, and popular?

King. I am a gentleman of a company.

Pist. Trail'st thou the puissant pike ?

King. Even so. What are you ?

Pist. As good a gentleman as the Emperor.

King. Then you are a better than the King.

Pist. The King's a bawcock, and a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp^ of fame ; Of parents good, of fist most valiant :

2 The allusion is to the casting of the slough or skin of the snake annu- ally, by which act he is supposed to regain new vigour and fresh youth. Legerity is lightness, nimbleness. Legerete, French.

3 The original meaning of ^mp is graff, scion, or sprout. See 2 Henry the Fourth, page 275, note I.

Il6 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV,

I kiss his dirty shoe, and from my heart-strings I love the lovely bully. What is thy name ?

King. Harry le Roi.

Fist. Le Roy ! ^

A Cornish name : art thou of Cornish crew ? ' King. No, I am a Welshman."* ■V I Fist. Know'st thou Fluellen? \ King. Yes.

Fist Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate Upon Saint Davy's day.^

King. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he knock that about yours.

Fist. Art thou his friend ?

King. And his kinsman too.

Fist. ^Yhefico for thee, then !

King. I thank you : God be with you !

Fist. My name is Pistol call'd. [^Exit.

King. It sorts well with your fierceness.

Enter Fluellen a7id Gower, severally.

Gow. Captain Fluellen !

Flu. So ! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak lower. It is the greatest admiration^ in the universal 'orld, when the true and auncient prerogatifs and laws of the wars is not kept : if you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle nor pibble-pabble in Pompey 's camp ; I

■* He calls himself a Welshman because he was in fact born at Mon- mouth in Wales. Hence his surname, Harry of Monmouth.

5 Saint David is the patron saint of Wales, and of course his day stands high in the Welsh calendar; a national holiday.

6 Admiration, as usual, in the Latin sense of wonder.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. II 7

warrant you, you shall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the sobriety of it, and the modesty of it, to be otherwise.

Gow. Why, the enemy is loud; you heard him all night.

Flu. If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating cox- comb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, — in your own con- science, now?

Gow. I will speak lower.

Flu. I pray you, and peseech you, that you will.

\_Exeunt Gower and Fluellen.

King. Though it appear a Httle out of fashion, / f:, ^

There is much care and valour in this Welshman./ "^"^^^ j^'^^\

Enter Bates, Court, and Williams.'

Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder !

Bates. I think it be : but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.

Will. We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think we shall never see the end of it. — - Who goes there ?

King. A friend.

Will. Under what captain serve you ?

King. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

Will. A good old commander and a most kind gentleman : I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?"^

King. Even as men wreck'd upon a sand, that look to be wash'd off the next tide.

Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King ?

King. No ; nor it is not meet he should. For, though I speak it to you, I think the King is but a man, as I am : the

7 Estate and state were used indiscriminately.

Il8 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

violet smells to him as it doth to me j the element^ shows to him as it doth to me ; all his senses have but human condi- tions : his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man ; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, y€t, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.^ Therefore, when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as ours are : yet, in reason, no man should possess him with any appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his army.

Bates. He may show what outward courage he will ; but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish himself in Thames up to the neck : and so I would he were, and I by him, at all adventures, so we were quit here.

King. By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the King : I think he would not wish himself any where but where he is.

Bates. Then I would he were here alone ; so should he be sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's lives saved.

King. I dare say you love him hot so ill, to wish him here alone, howsoever you speak this, to feel other men's minds : methinks I could not die any where so contented as in the King's company ; his cause being just, and his quarrel honourable.

Will. That's more than we know.

Court. Ay, or more than we should seek after ; for we know enough, if we know we are the King's subjects : if his

8 The element is the sky. Repeatedly so. See Twelfth Night, page 31, note 5.

9 An allusion to falconry. When a hawk, after soaring or mounting aloft, took his flight downwards, he was said to stoop : especially used of the plunge or souse he made upon the prey. — "Higher mounted" is soaring to a higher pitch ; another instance of the confusion of active and passive forms.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. II Q

cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us.

WilL But, if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads, chopped off in batde, shall join together at the latter day, and cry all, We died at such a place ; some swearing ; some crying for a surgeon ; some, upon their wives left poor behind them ; some, upon the debts they owe ; some, upon their children rawly left.^^ I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle ; for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their argument ? ^^ Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the King that led them to it ; whom to disobey were against all proportion of subjection.

King. So, if a son, that is by his father sent about mer- chandise, do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed upon his father that sent him : or, if a servant, under his master's com- mand transporting a sum of money, be assailed by robbers, and die in many irreconciled iniquities, ^^ you may call the business of the master the author of the servant's damnation. But this is not so : the King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of his servant ; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their services. Besides, there is no king, be his

10 Their children left young and helpless; in a raw or green age.

11 Arguinent, in Shakespeare, is theme, subject, purpose, any matter in thought, or any business in hand. —" Charitably dispose" alludes to the old doctrine that a Christian's last hours should be spent in making such provision as he can for the poor and needy and suffering human brethren whom he is leaving behind.

12 The language is slightly elliptical : iniquities for which he has not made his peace with Heaven by repentance and restitution.

/

I20 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

cause never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers : some per- adventure have on them the guilt of premeditated and con- trived murder ; some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of perjury ; ^^ some, making the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law and out- run native punishment,!'^ though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God : war is His beadle, war is His vengeance ; so that here men are punish'd for before-breach of the King's laws in now the King's quarrel : where they feared the death, they have borne life away ; and where they would be safe, they perish; then, if they die unprovided, no more is the King guilty of their damnation, than he was before guilty of those impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is the King's ; but every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, — wash every mote out of his con- science : and, dying so, death is to him advantage ; or, not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained : and, in him that escapes, it were not sin to think that, making God so free an offer. He let them outlive that day to see His greatness, and to teach others how they should prepare.

Will. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill is upon his own head ; the King is not to answer it.

Bates. I do not desire he should answer for me ; and yet I determine to fight lustily for him.

13 " The broken seals of perjury " are the seals or vows broken by perjury.

14 " Native punishment " probably means punishment at home, or the punishment ordained in or by their native land.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 121

King. I myself heard the King say he would not be ransom'd.

Will. Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully : but, when our throats are cut, he may be ransom'd, and we ne'er the wiser.

King. If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.

Will. 'Mass, you'll pay ^^ him then ! That's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun, that a poor and a private displeas- ure can do against a monarch ! you may as well go about to turn the Sun to ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word after ! come, 'tis a foolish saying.

King. Your reproof is something too round : ^^ I should be angry with you, if the time were convenient.

Will. Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.

King. I embrace it.

Will. How shall I know thee again ?

King. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet : ^~ then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.

Will. Here's my glove : give me another of thine.

King. There.

Will. This will I also wear in my cap : if ever thou come to me and say, after to-morrow. This is ?ny glove, by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.

King. If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.

Will. Thou darest as well be hang'd.

15 Payhere means bring hitn to account, or requite his act. — An elder-gym is a popgun ; so called because made by punching the pith out of a piece of elder.

16 Round is plaifi-spoken, iinceretnonious, blunt. Often so.

17 Bonnet was the common name of a man's head-covering. — Gage is pledge, that which proves an engagement.

122 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

King. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the King's company.

Will. Keep thy word : fare thee well.

Bates. Be friends, you English fools, be friends : we have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to reckon.

King. Indeed, the French may lay twenty French crowns to one, they will beat us ; for they bear them on their shoul- ders : but it is no English treason to cut French crowns ; and to-morrow the King himself will be a clipper.^^ —

\_Exeunt Soldiers. Upon the King ! let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives,^^ our children, and Our sins, lay on the King ! We must bear all. O hard condition ! twin-born with greatness. Subject to th' breath of every fool, whose sense No more can feel but his own wringing \'^^ What infinite heart's-ease must kings neglect. That private men enjoy !

And what have kings, that privates have not too Save ceremony, — save general ceremony? — And what art thou, thou idol ceremony ? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers ? O ceremony, show me but thy worth !

18 Alluding to the old doctrine which made it treason to mar or deface the king's image on the coin. There is a quibble also on crowns ; the King probably meaning that there are twenty Frenchmen to one Englishman.

19 " Our careful wives " probably means " the wives whom we care, or are careful, for." Another instance of transferred epithet. See page iii, note I.

20 Who has no sense or feeling for any pains or troubles but his own : without sympathy ; uncompassionate ; and therefore selfish. To wring 2in& to writhe have the same meaning. So in Cymbeline, iii. 6 : "He wrings at some distress."

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I23

What are thy rents ? what are thy comings-in ?

What is thy soul of adoration ?"^^

Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,

Creating awe and fear in other men?

Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd

Than they in fearing.

What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet.

But poison'd flattery ? O, be sick, great greatness.

And bid thy ceremony give thee cure !

Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out

With titles blown from adulation ? ^-

Will it give place to flexure and low bending ?

Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,

Command the health of it ? No, thou proud dream^

That play'st so subtly with a king's repose :

I am a king that find thee ; and I know

'Tis not the balm,-^^ the sceptre, and the ball,

The sword, the mace, the crown imperial.

The intertissued robe of gold and pearl.

The farced -^ title running 'fore the king,

The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp

That beats upon the high shore of this world, —

No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,

21 Such was the idiom of the time ; the sense being, " What is the hfe, virtue, or essence of thy adoration ? " that is, the adoration paid to thee. The objective genitive, as it is called, where present usage admits only the subjective.

22 That is, titles blown up, or made big and pretentious with the breath of flattery.

23 The l>a/m wa.s the oil used in anointing a king at his coronation. — The ball was the symbol of majesty ; the mace, of authority.

2* Farced is stuffed. The tumid, puffy titles with which a king's name is introduced.

124 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV,

Not all these, laid in bed majestical,

Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave,

Who, with a body fiU'd and vacant mind.

Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful'^^ bread ;

Never sees horrid night, the child of Hell ;

But, like a lacquey, from the rise to set,

Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night

Sleeps in Elysium ; next day, after dawn,

Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse' ;26

And follows so the ever-running year.

With profitable labour, to his grave :

And, but for ceremony, such a wretch.

Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep.

Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.

The slave, a member of the country's peace.

Enjoys it ; but in gross brain little wots

What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,

Whose hours the peasant best advantages.-^

Enter Erpingham.

Erp. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence. Seek through your camp to find you.

King. Good old knight.

Collect them all together at my tent : I'll be before thee.

25 Distressful, perhaps, in a twofold sense : the poor man is distressed to get it, and distressed after eating it.

26 Horse for horses, just as, elsewhere, corpse' for corpses, and house for houses: for the old Sun-god, whether called Hyperion, Apollo, or Phoebus, was never a one-horse god; nor could his grand chariot be drawn by a one-horse team ; and Shakespeare knew this right well.

27 In the old writers, the predicate verb often agrees in number with the nearest substantive, and not with the proper subject. So here, hours is the subject of advantages, which is a transitive verb, peasant being its object

■■)

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 25

Erp. I shall do't, my lord. \_Exit.

King. O God of battles ! steel my soldiers' hearts ; Possess them not with fear ; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if th' opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from thernT) Not to-day, O Lord, O, not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown I' I Richard's body have interred new ; And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears Than from it issued forced drops of blood : Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay. Who twice a- day their wither'd hands hold up Toward Heaven, to pardon blood ; and I have built Two chantries,^^ where the sad and solemn priests Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do ; Though all that I can do is nothing worth, Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon.-^

Enter Gloster.

Glo. My liege !

King. My brother Gloster's voice ? Ay ;

I know thy errand, I will go with thee : The day, my friends, and all things stay for me. [Exeunt,

'-8 One of these was for Carthusian monks, and was called Bethlehem ; the other was for religious men and women of the order of St. Bridget, and was named Sion. They were on opposite sides of the Thames, and adjoined the royal manor of Sheen. A chantry is, properly, a place where chanting is practised ; or a chapel for choral service.

23 That is, " Since, after all that I have done or can do in works of piety and charity, nothing but true penitence and earnest prayer for pardon will avail to procure a remission of my sins."

126 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Scene II. — The French Camp.

Enter the Dauphin, Orleans, Rambures, arid others.

Orl. The Sun doth gild our armour ; up, my lords !

Dau. Montez a cheval ! — My horse ! varlet, laquais / ha !

Ori. O brave spirit !

Dau. Via f ^ — ks eaux et le terre, —

Orl. Rien puis? Pair et le feu, —

Dau. Ciel I cousin Orleans. —

Enter Constable.

Now, my Lord Constable !

Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh !

Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their hides. That their hot blood may spin in English eyes, And dout them^ with superfluous courage, ha !

Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood? How shall we, then, behold their natural tears ?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers.

Co7i. To horse, you gallant princes ! straight to horse ! Do but behold yond poor and starved band, And your fair show shall suck away their souls, Leaving them but the shales^ and husks of men. There is not work enough for all our hands ; Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,

i An old exclamation of encouragement ; on ! away ! Italian.

2 To dout is to do out, \o put out ; them referring to eyes.

3 Shale is an old form oi shell ; fioin the Saxon schale.

SCENE IL KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 12/

That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,

And sheathe for lack of sport : let us but blow on them,

The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.

'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords.

That our superfluous lacqueys and our peasants —

Who in unnecessary action swarm

About our squares of battle — were enough

To purge this field of such a hilding foe ; "*

Though we upon this mountain's basis by

Took stand for idle speculation,^ —

But that our honours must not. What's to say?

A very little little let us do,

And all is done. Then let the trumpet sound

The tucket-sonance and the note to mount : ^

For our approach shall so much dare the field,

That England shall couch down in fear, and yield.

Enter Grandpre.

Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France ? Yond island carrions, desperate of their bones, Ill-favour'dly become the morning field : Their ragged curtains ~ poorly are let loose, And our air shakes them passing scornfully ; Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,

■* A hilding foe is a paltry, cowardly, base foe.

^ Speculation, here, is simply beholding, or looking on.

6 The tucket-sonance, or sounding of the tucket, was a flourish on a trum. pet as a signal. — The Constable's spirits are dancing in merry scorn ; the note to mount and dare the field being terms fitter for a sporting-excursion than for a war-tussle. To dare the field is a phrase in falconry. Birds are dared when, by the falcon in the air, they are terrified from rising, so as to be sometimes taken by the hand.

^ Their ragged curtains are their colours.

128 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

And faintly through- a rusty beaver^ peeps : The horsemen sit Uke fixed candlesticks,^ With torch-staves in their hand ; and their poor jades Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips. The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes ; And in their pall'd dull mouths the gimmal-bit^*^' Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless : And their executors, the knavish crows, Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour. Description cannot suit itself in words To demonstrate the life of such a battle In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

Con. They've said their prayers, and they stay for death.

Dau. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits. And give their fasting horses provender, And after fight with them ?

Con. I stay but for my guidon : to the field ! I will the banner from a trumpet ' ^ take, And use it for my haste. Come, come, away ! The Sun is high, and we outwear the day. [^Exeunt.

^ The beaver was the part of the helmet that came down over the face.

'-* Ancient candlesticks were often in the form of human figures holding the socket, for the lights, in their extended hands.

1'^ The gimmal-bit was probably a bit in which two parts or links were united, as in the ginimal ring, so called because they were double-linked ; ixovci. gemellus, Lat.

11 Trumpet for trumpeter ; a frequent usage. — Guidon is an old word for standard, ensign, or banner, or the bearer of it. So Holinshed : " They thought themselves so sure of victorie, that diverse of the noblemen made such hast toward the battell, that they left manie of their servants and Jtien of warre behind them, and some of them would not once staie for their standards ; as amongst other the duke of Brabant, when his standard was not come, caused a banner to be taken from a trumpet, and fastened to a speare, the which he commanded to be borne before him, insteed of his standard."

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 29

Scene III. — The Efiglish Ca?np.

E7iter the English Host; Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Salis- bury, and Westmoreland.

Glo. Where is the King?

Bed. The King himself is rode to view their battle.

West. Of fighting-men they have full three-score thou- sand.

Exe. There's five to one ; besides, they all are fresh.

Sal. God's arm strike with us ! 'tis a fearful odds. God b' wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge : If we no more meet till we meet in Heaven, Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Gloster, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinsman, 1 warriors all, adieu !

Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee !

Exe. Farewell, kmd lord ; fight valiantly to-day : And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it. For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.

\_Exit Salisbury.

Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindness ; Princely in both.

Enter King Henry.

West. O, that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day !

King. What's he that wishes so ?

1 The kind kinsman here addressed is Westmoreland. The Earl of Salisbury was Thomas Montacute : he was in fact not related to West- moreland ; but tlieir families were connected by marriage.

130 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACr IV,

My cousin Westmoreland ? — No, my fair cousin : ^

If we are mark'd to die, we are enough

To do our country loss ; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold ;

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost ;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear ;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires :

But if it be a sin to covet honour,

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England :

God's peace ! I would not lose so great an honour

As one man more, methinks, would share from me,

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more !

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart ; his passport shall be made,

And crowns for convoy put into his purse :

We would not live in that man's company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian : ^

2 Westmoreland's first wife was aunt to the King by his grandfather's side; she being one of several children of John of Ghent by Catharine Swynford ; all born out of wedlock, but afterwards legitimated. They took the name of Beaufort, from Beaufort Castle, in France, where they were born.

3 The battle of Agincourt was fought the 25th of October, 1415. The saints who gave name to the day were Crispin and Crispianus, brothers, born at Rome, from whence they travelled to Soissons, in France, about the year 303, to propagate Christianity, but, that they might not be chargeable to others for their maintenance, they exercised the trade of shoemakers : the governor of the town, discovering them to be Christians, ordered them to be beheaded. Hence they have become the patron saints of shoemakers.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I3I

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a-tip-toe when this day is named,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil "* feast his neighbours,

And say, To-morrow is Saint C7'ispian :

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.

And say. These wounds I had on C?'ispi?i''s day.

Old men forget ; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day : then shall our names,

Familiar in their mouths as household words, —

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster, —

Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.

This story shall the good man teach his son ;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world.

But we in it shall be remembered.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile.

This day shall gentle his condition : ^

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here ;

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

4 The vi^il of a holy day was the watch that was kept the night before. Something of the old custom survives in the celebration of Christmas eve.

° That is, shall make him a gentleman. King Henry V. inhibited any person, but such as had a right by inheritance or grant, from bearing coats- of-arms, except those who fought with him at the battle of Agincourt.

132 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Re-enter Salisbury.

Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed : The French are bravely^ in their battles set, And will with all expedience "^ charge on us.

King. All things are ready, if our minds be so.

West. Perish the man whose mind is backward now !

King. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz ?

West. God's will ! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, might fight this battle out !

Ki?ig. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men ; ^ Which likes me better than to wish us one. — You know your places : God be with you all !

Tucket. Enter Montjoy.

Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry, If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, Before thy most assured overthrow ; For certainly thou art so near the gulf. Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy, The Constable desires thee thou wilt mind Thy followers of repentance ; that their souls May make a peaceful and a sweet retire From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies Must lie and fester.

King. Who hath sent thee now?

G Bravely is in a braving- manner ; defiantly.

"^ Expedience for expedition, speed. The usage was common.

8 " By wishing only thyself and me, thou hast wished five thousand men away." The Poet, inattentive to numbers, putsy?^'^ thousand, but in the last scene the French are said to be full three-score thousand, which Exeter declares to be five to one. The numbers of the English are variously stated ; Holinshed makes them fifteen thousand, others but nine thousand.

SCENE III. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 33

Mont. The Constable of France.

King. I pray thee, bear my former answer back : Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones. Good God ! why should they mock poor fellows thus ? The man that once did sell the lion's skin While the beast lived, was kill'd with hunting him. A many of our bodies shall no doubt Find native graves ; upon the which, I trust. Shall witness live in brass ^ of this day's work : And those that leave their valiant bones in France, Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills, They shall be famed ; for there the Sun shall greet them, And draw their honours reeking up to heaven ; Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime, The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France. Mark, then, abounding valour in our English ; That, being dead, like to the bullets grazing, Break out into a second course of mischief. Killing in relapse of mortality. i*^ Let me speak proudly : Tell the Constable We are but warriors for the working-day ; Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd With rainy marching in the painful field ; There's not a piece of feather in our host, — Good argument, I hope, we will not fly, — And time hath worn us into slovenry :

9 Alluding to the plates of brass formerly let into tombstones.

I'' "Relapse of mortality " is simply the falling-back or returning of the mortal body to its original dust. — This high strain must be set down, I think, among the Poet's instances of overboldness. Sertainly, nothing but his prodigious momentum of thought and poetry could carry us fairly through such a strain ; hardly even that.

134 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

But by the Mass our hearts are in the trim ; And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night They'll be in fresher robes ; for they will pluck The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads, And turn them out of service. If they do this, — As, if God please, they shall, — my ransom then Will soon be levied. Herald, save thy labour ; Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald : They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints ; Which if they have as I will leave 'em them, Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.

Mont. I shall. King Harry. And so fare thee well : Thou never shall hear herald any more. \_Exit.

King. I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.

Enter the Duke of York.^^

York. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg The leading of the vaward.^^

King. Take it, brave York. — Now, soldiers, march away : — And how Thou pleasest, God, dispose the day ! \^Exeunt.

11 This Edward Duke of York was the son of Edmund of Langley, the Duke of York, who was the fourth son of King Edward III, He is the man who figures as Aumerle in King Richard the Second.

12 The vaward is the vanguard. So in Holinshed : " He appointed a vaward, of the which he made capteine Edward duke of York, who of an haultie courage had desired that office."

SCENE IV. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 135

Scene IV. — The Field of Battle.

Alarums: excursions. Enter French Soldier, Pistol, and the Boy.

Pist. Yield, cur !

Fr. Sol. Je pettse que vous etes le gentilhomme de bonne qualite.

Pist. Quality ! Callino, castore me ! ^ art thou a gentle- man ? what is thy name ? discuss.

Fr. Sol. O Seigneur Dieu !

Pist. O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman : Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark : O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,^ Except, O signieur, thou do give to me Egregious ransom.

Fr. Sol. O prenez misericorde ! ay ez pi tie de moi !

Pist. Moy '^ shall not serve ; I will have forty moys ; Or I will fetch thy rim ^ out at thy throat

1 These words, it seems, were the burden of an old song. Boswell found the notes in Playford's Musical Companio?!. He says the words mean " Lit- tle girl of my heart, for ever and ever " ; and adds, " They have, it is true, no great connection with the poor Frenchman's supplications, nor were they meant to have any. Pistol, instead of attending to him, contemptuously hums a tune."

2 Fox was an old fancy-term for sword. " The name," says Staunton, "was given from the circumstance that Andrea Ferrara, and, since his time, other foreign sword-cutlers, adopted a fox as the blade-mark of their weap- ons. Swords, with a running fox rudely engraved on the blades, are still occasionally to be met with in the old curiosity-shops of London."

3 Moy or moyos was a measure of corn ; in French muy or muid, Latin modlus, a bushel. It appears that twenty-seven moys were equal to at least two tons.

4 Pistol is not very scrupulous in his language : he uses rim for the in^es- tines generally. Bishop Wilkins defines it " the membrane of the belly " ;

136 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

In drops of crimson blood.

Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'cchapper la force de to 71 bras ?

Fist. Brass, cur ! Thou damned and luxurious mountain-goat, Offer'st me brass ?

Fr. Sol. O, pardonnez-moi !

Fist. Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys? — Come hither, boy : ask me this slave in French What is his name.

Boy. Ecoutez : comment etes-vous appele ?

Fr. Sol. Monsieur le Fer,

Boy. He says his name is Master Fer.

Fist. Master Fer ! Til fer him, and firk"^ him, and ferret him : discuss the same in French unto him.

Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.

Fist. Bid him prepare ; for I will cut his throat.

Fr. Sol. Que dit-il, monsieur ?

Boy. // me comtnande de vous dire que vous faites vous pret ; car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette heure de coupe r voire gorge.

Pist. Ouij couper la gorge, par mafoi, Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns ; Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

Fr. Sol. 0,jevous supplie,pour P amour de Dieu, me par- donner ! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison ; gardez ma vie, etje vous donnerai deux cents ecus.

Florio makes it the omentum, "a fat pannicle, caule, sewet, rim, or kell wherein the bowels are lapt."

5 To firk is to beat or scourge : to yerk and to jerk have the same im- port.— To ferret is of kindred meaning, the ferret being a very fierce and spiteful animal. So in the old play oi King Leir : " I'll ferret you ere night for that word."

SCENE IV. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 3/

Pist. What are his words ?

Boy. He prays you to save his Hfe : he is a gentleman of a good House ; and for his ransom he will give you two hun- dred crowns.

Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I The crowns will take.

Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur^ que dit-il ?

Boy. Encore qu' il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous Pavez promis, il est content de vous donner la liberie, le franchise- nient.

Fr. Sol. Surmes genoux je vous do fine mille remerciniens ; etje f?i^estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les mains d^un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et tres- distingue seigneur d 'Angleterre.

Pist. Expound unto me, boy.

Boy. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks ; and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England.

Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. — Follow me, cur. \_Exit.

Boy. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. \_Exit French Sol- dier.] — I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart : but the saying is true. The empty vessel makes the greatest sound. Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring Devil i' the old play,^ that every one

6 The Devil was a prominent personage in the old Miracle-plays and Moral-plays. He was as turbulent, boisterous, and vainglorious as Pistol. Ho, ho ! and Ah, ha / were among his stereotyped exclamations or roarings. The Vice used to belabour him with various indignities, and, among them, threaten to pare his nails with the dagger of lath ; the Devil choosing to keep his claws long and sharp. See Tivelfth Night, page 119, note 17.

138 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

may pare his nails with a wooden dagger ; and they are both hang'd ; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lacqueys, with the lug- gage of our camp : the French might have a good prey of us, if they knew of it ; for there is none to guard it but boys.

\_ExiL

Scene V. — Another Part of the Field of Battle.

Alarums. Enter the Constable, Orleans, Bourbon, the Dauphin, Rambures, and others.

Con. Odiable!

Orl. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

Dau. Mort de 771a vie ! ^ all is confounded, all ! Reproach, reproach and everlasting shame Sit mocking in our plumes. O 77iecha7ite fortune ! — Do not run away. [^ short alarum.

Con. Why, all our ranks are broke.

Dau. O perdurable shame ! — let's stab ourselves. Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice?

07-1. Is this the King we sent to for his ransom ?

Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame ! Let's die in honour : once more back again.

Co7i. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now ! Let us on heaps ^ go offer up our lives.

1 Ludicrous as these introductory scraps of French appear, so instantly followed by good, nervous mother-English, yet they are judicious, and pro- duce the impression Shakespeare intended : a sudden feeling struck at once on the ears, as well as the eyes, of the audience, that " here come the French, the baffled French braggards ! " And this will appear the more judicious, when we reflect on the scanty apparatus of distinguishing dresses in Shake- speare's tiring-room. — COLERIDGE.

2 On heaps is in crowds. Repeatedly so. See King Richard the Third, page 91, note 4.

SCENE VI. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 39

OrL We are enough, yet living in the field, To smother up the English in our throngs, If any order might be thought upon.

Bour. The Devil take order now ! I'll to the throng : Let life be short ; else shame will be too long. \_Exeunt.

Scene VI. — Another Part of the Field.

Alarums. Enter King Henrv arid Forces^ Exeter, and others.

King. Well have we done, thrice -valiant countrymen : But all's not done ; yet keep the French the field.

Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty.

King. Lives he, good uncle ? thrice within this hour I saw him down ; thrice up again, and fighting ; From helmet to the spur all blood he was.

Exe. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie. Larding the plain ; 1 and by his bloody side. Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds. The noble Earl of Suffolk also Hes. Suffolk first died : and York, all haggled over, Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd. And takes him by the beard ; kisses the gashes That bloodily did yawn upon his face ; And cries aloud. Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk / Afy soul shall keep thine company to Heaven; Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;

1 That is, enriching the plain with his blood. In / Henry the Fourth, ii. 2, Falstaff is said to do the same thing with his sweat : " Fat Falstaff sweats to death, and lards the lean earth as he walks along."

140 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

As in this glorious a7id well-foughten field

We kept together in our chivalry !

Upon these words, I came and cheer'd him up :

He smiled me in the face, raught ^ me his hand,

And, with a feeble gripe, says, Dear my lord,

Com??iend my service to my sovereign.

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips ;

And so, espoused to death, with blood he seal'd

A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced

Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd :

But I had not so much of man in me,

But 3 all my mother came into mine eyes.

And gave me up to tears.

King. I blame you not ;

For, hearing this, I must perforce compound With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum.

But, hark ! what new alarum is this same ? — The French have reinforced their scattered men : Then every soldier kill his prisoners ; Give the word through. \^Exeunt.

Scene VH. — Another Part of the Field. Alarums. Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poys and the luggage ! 'tis expressly against the law of arms : 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offer'd ; in your conscience, now, is it not ?

Gow. 'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive ; and the

- Raught is the old preterit of reach.

3 But here is equivalent to but that. A frequent usage.

SCENE VII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I4I

cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha' done this slaughter : besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the King's tent ; wherefore the King, most wor- thily, liath caused every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat.^ O, 'tis a gallant king !

Flu. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What call you the town's name where Alexander the Pig was porn ?

Gow. Alexander the Great.

Flu. Why, I pray you, is not pig great? the pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.

Gow. I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon : his father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

Flu. I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of tlie 'orld, I warrant you shall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon ; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth : it is called Wye at Monmouth ; but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river : but 'tis all one ; 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well ; ^

1 This incident is related in full by Holinshed. It appears afterwards, however, that the King, on finding that the danger was not so great as he at first thought, stopped the slaughter, and was able to save a great number. It is observable that the King gives as his reason for the order, that he expected another battle, and had not men enough to guard one army and fight another. Gower here assigns a different reason. Holinshed gives both reasons, and the Poet chose to put one in the King's mouth, the other in Gower's.

2 " Indifferent well " is tolerably well. See Twelfth Night, p. 52, n. 23.

142 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

for there is figures in all things. Alexander, — Got knows, and you know, — in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his pjains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend, Cleitus.

Gow. Our King is not like him in that : he never kill'd any of his friends.

Flu. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it : As Alexander kill'd his friend Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups ; so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his goot judgments, turn'd away the fat knight with the great-pelly doublet ; ^ he was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks ; I have forgot his name.

Go2v. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he. I'll tell you there is goot men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his Majesty.

Alarum. Enter King Henry with a part of the English Forces ; Warwick, Gloster, Exeter, and others.

King. I was not angry since I came to France Until this instant, — Take a trumpet, herald ; Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill : If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Or void the field ; they do offend our sight :

3 That is, " gredi\.-bellied doublet," which was the opposite of " />4/«-bellied doublet." Doublet was the name of a man's upper garment. "The doublets," says Staunton, " were made some without stuffing, — thin-bellied, — and some bombasted out."

SCENE VII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I43

If they'll do neither, we will come to them, And make them skirr away,'* as swift as stones Enforced from the old Assyrian slings : Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have ; And not a man of them that we shall take Shall taste our mercy. Go, and tell them so.

Exe. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

Glo. His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

Enter Montjoy.

King. How now ! what means this, herald ? know'st thou not That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom ? Comest thou again for ransom ?

Mont. No, great King :

I come to thee for charitable license That we may wander o'er this bloody field To look our dead,^ and then to bury them ; To sort our nobles from our common men ; For many of our princes — woe the while ! — Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood : So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs In blood of princes ; and the wounded steeds Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters, Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great King,

^ Scour away; to run swiftly in various directions. It has the same meaning in Macbeth, v. 3, " Skirr the country round."

5 The use of look as a transitive verb was not uncommon. The incident is thus related by Holinshed : " In the morning Montjoie and foure other heralds came to the king, to know the number of prisoners, and to desire buriall for the dead."

V

144 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

To view the field in safety, and dispose Of their dead bodies !

Ki7ig. I tell thee truly, herald,

I know not if the day be ours or no ; For yet a many of your horsemen peer And gallop o'er the field.

Mont. The day is yours.

Ki7ig. Praised be God, and not our strength, for it ! What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?

Mont. They call it Agincourt.

King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Flu. Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your Majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

Kmg. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your Majesty says very true : if your Majesty is remember'd of it, the Welshmen did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps ; ^ which, your Majesty knows, to this hour is an honourable padge of the service ; and I do pelieve your Majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day.

King. I wear it for a memorable honour ; For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

Flu. All the water in Wye cannot wash your Majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that : Got pless

6 Fuller, in his Worthies of Afontnouthshire, says, " The best caps were formerly made at Monmouth, where the cappers' chapel doth still remain." lie adds, " If at this day the phrase oi wearing a Montnouth cap be taken in a bad acception, I hope the inhabitants of that town will endeavour to dis- prove the occasion."

SCENE VII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I45

it, and preserve it, as long as it pleases His Grace, and His Majesty too !

King. Thanks, good my countryman.

Flu. By Cheshu, I am your Majesty's countryman, I care not who know it ; I will confess it to all the 'orld : I need not to be ashamed of your Majesty, praised be Got, so long as your Majesty is an honest man.

Kifig. God keep me so ! — Our heralds go with him : Bring me just notice of the numbers dead On both our parts. — Call yonder fellow hither.

\_Poififs to Williams. Exeunt Heralds with Montjoy.

Exe. Soldier, you must come to the King.

King. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap ?

Wilt. An't please your Majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive.

Ki?ig. An Englishman?

Will. An't please your Majesty, a rascal that swagger'd with me last night ; who if 'a live, and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box o' the ear : or, if I can see my glove in his cap, which he swore, as he was a sol- dier, he would wear if alive, I will strike it out soundly.

Kifig. What think you. Captain Fluellen ! is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

Flu. He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your Majesty, in my conscience.

King. It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort," quite from the answer of his degree.

Flu. Though he be as goot a gentleman as the Tevil is, as Lucifer and Beelzebub himself, it is necessary, look your

' Great sort is high rank. A man of such rank is not bound to answer to the challenge from one of the soldier's low degree.

146 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Grace, that he keep his vow and his oath : if he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jack- sauce,^ as ever his plack shoe trod upon Got's ground and His earth, in my conscience, la.

King. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow.

Will. So I will, my Hege, as I live.

Ki7ig. Who servest thou under?

Will. Under Captain Gower, my liege.

Flu. Gower is a goot captain, and is goot knowledge and literatured in the wars.

King. Call him hither to me, soldier.

Will. I will, my liege. \^Exit.

Ki?ig. Here, Fluellen ; wear thou this favour for me, and stick it in thy cap : when Alen^on and myself were down together,^ I pluck'd this glove from his helm : if any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alen^on, and an enemy to our person ; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.

Flu. Your Grace does me as great honours as can be de- sired in the hearts of his subjects : I would fain see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find himself aggrief 'd at this glove, that is all ; I would fain but see it once, an please Got of His grace that I might see.

King. Know'st thou Gower?

Flu. He is my dear friend, an please you.

King. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.

Flu. I will fetch him. \_Exit.

•\

^ Jack-sauce for saucy Jack. Jack was used as a term of contempt. |

5* Henry was felled to the ground by the Duke of Alengon, but recovered, and slew two of the duke's attendants. Alengon was afterwards killed by the King's ^uard, contrary to Henry's intention, who wished to save him.

1

SCENE VIII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 14/

King. My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloster, Follow Fluellen closely at the heels : The glove which I have given him for a favour May haply purchase him a box o' the ear ; It is the soldier's ; I, by bargain, should Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick : If that the fellow strike him, — as I judge By his blunt bearing, he will keep his word, — Some sudden mischief may arise of it ; For I do know Fluellen valiant. And, touch 'd with choler, hot as gunpowder. And quickly will return an injury : Follow, and see there be no harm between them. — Go you with me, uncle of Exeter. \_Exeunt-.

Scene VIII. — Before King Henry's Pavilion. Enter Gower a7id Williams. Will. I warrant it is to knight you, captain. Enter Fluellen.

Elu. Got's will and His pleasure, captain, I peseech you now, come apace to the King : there is more goot toward you peradventure than is in your knowledge to dream of.

Will. Sir, know you this glove ?

Elu. Know the glove ! I know the glove is a glove.

Will. I know this ; and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him.

Elu. 'Splood, an arrant traitor as any's in the universal 'orld, or in France, or in England !

Gow. How now, sir ! you villain !

Will. Do you think I'll be forsworn?

148 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV,

Flu. Stand away, Captain Gower ; I will give treason his payment into ^ plows, I warrant you.

Will. I am no traitor.

Flu. That's a lie in thy throat. — I charge you in his Majesty's name, apprehend him : he's a friend of the Duke Alengon's.

Efiter Warwick and Gloster,

War. How now, how now ! what's the matter?

Flu. My Lord of Warwick, here is — praised be Got for it ! — a most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a Summer's day. — Here is his Majesty.

Enter King Henry a?id Exeter.

Ki?tg. How now ! what's the matter ?

Flu. My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look your Grace, has struck the glove which your Majesty is take out of the helmet of Alencon.

Will. My liege, this was my glove ; here is the fellow of it ; and he that I gave it to in change promised to wear it in his cap : I promised to strike him, if he did : I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have been as good a my word.

Flu. Your Majesty hear now, saving your Majesty's man- hood, what an arrant, rascally, peggarly, lousy knave it is : I hope your Majesty is pear me testimony, and witness, and will avouchment, that this is the glove of Alengon, that your Majesty is give me, in. your conscience, now.

King. Give me thy glove,- soldier : look, here is the fellow of it.

1 Into and in were often used indiscriminately.

2 Here " thy g\owe" evidently means the glove that Williams has in his cap. The King and Williams had exclianged gloves, so that now each has

SCENE VIII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I49

"Tvvas I> indeed, thou promised'st to strike ; And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

Flu. An please your Majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is any martial law in the 'orld.

King. How canst thou make me satisfaction ?

Will. All offences, my Hege, come from the heart : never came any from mine that might offend your Majesty.

Ki?ig. It was ourself thou didst abuse.

Will. Your Majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to me but as a common man ; witness the night, your gar- ments, your lowliness ; and, what your Highness suffer'd under that shape, I beseech you take it for your own fault, and not mine : for, had you been as I took you for, I made no offence ; therefore, I beseech your Highness, pardon me.

King. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns, And give it to this fellow. — Keep it, fellow ; And wear it for an honour in thy cap Till I do challenge it. — Give him the crowns : — And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.

Flu. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his pelly. — Hold, there is twelve pence for you ; and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you.

Will. I will none of your money.

Fhi. It is with a goot will ; I can tell you, it will serve you to mend your shoes : come, wherefore should you be so pashful ? your shoes is not so goot : 'tis a goot silling, I war- rant you, or I will change it.

the other's glove in pledge. But the King has just given to Fluellen the glove he received from Williams ; and he now takes from his pocket the mate to the one that Williams received from him.

150 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV

Enter an English Herald.

King. Now, herald, are the dead number'd ?

He7\ Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

\_Delivers a paper.

King. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle ?

Exe. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King ; John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt : Of other lords and barons, knights and squires, Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.

Ki7ig. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French That in the field lie slain : of princes, in this number, And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead One hundred twenty-six : added to these, Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen. Eight thousand and four hundred ; of the which, Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights : So that, in these ten thousand they have lost, There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries ; ^ The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires, And gentlemen of blood and quality. The names of those their nobles that lie dead, Charles Delabreth, High- Constable of Francej Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France ; The master of the cross-bows. Lord Rambures ; Great-master of France, the brave Sir Guiscard Dauphin ; John Duke of Alengon ; Antony Duke of Brabant, The brother to the Duke of Burgundy ; And Edward Duke of Bar : of lusty earls, Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,

3 Mercenaries were soldiers who received pay, as distinguished from such as followed their lords under the obligations of feudal service.

SCENE VIII. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I5I

Beaumont and Marie, Vaudemont and Lestrale. Here was a royal fellowship of death ! — Where is the number of our Enghsh dead? —

[YitrM presents another paper. Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam,'^ esquire ; None else of name ; and of all other men But five and twenty. — O God, Thy arm was here ; And not to us, but to Thy arm alone, Ascribe we all ! — When, without stratagem, But in plain shock and even play of battle, Was ever known so great and little loss On one part and on th' other? — Take it, God, For it is only Thine !

Exe. 'Tis wonderful !

King. Come, go we in procession to the village ; And be it death proclaimed through our host To boast of this, or take that praise from God Which is His only.

Flu. Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how many is kill'd?

King. Yes, captain ; but with this acknowledgement, That God fought for us.

Flu. Yes, my conscience. He did us great goot.

King. Do we all holy rites : ^

^ A pleasing anecdote is told of this brave Welshman. Having been sent out before the battle to reconnoitre the enemy, he reported, " May it please you, my liege, there are enough to be killed, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to run away." It is said that among his other feats at Agincourt he saved the King's life.

5 The king, gathering his army togither, gave thanks to Almightie God for so happie a victorie, causing his prelats and chapleins to sing this psalme, In exitu Israel de Egypto ; and commaunded every man to kneele downe

152 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum.

The dead with charity enclosed in clay,

We'll then to Calais ; and to England then ;

Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men. \_ExeujiL

Scene IX. — France. An English Court of Guard. Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gow. Nay, that's right ; but why wear you your leek to- day? Saint Davy's day is past.

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things. I will tell you, as my friend, Captain Gower : The rascally, scald,i peggarly, lousy, pragging knave. Pistol, — which you and yourself, and all the 'orld, know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, — he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek : it was in a place where I could not preed no contention with him ; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

Gow. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his sweUings nor his turkey- cocks. —

Enter Pistol.

Got pless you, Auncient Pistol ! you scurvy, lousy knave. Got pless you !

on the ground at this verse, Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed noniini tuo da gloriam. Which doone, he caused Te Deum with certeine anthems to be soong, giving laud and praise to God, without boasting of his owne force or anie humane power. — Holinshed.

1 Scald is scurvy or scabby, in its proper meaning ; but came to be used as a word of contempt, implying poverty, disease, and filth.

SCENE IX. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 153

Pist. Ha ! art thou bedlam ? dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca's fatal web ? Hence ! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek : because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

Flu. There is one goat for you. \Strike5 him.~\ Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it ?

Pis I. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu. You say very true, scald knave ; when Got's will is : I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your vict- uals : come, there is sauce for it. \_Slrikes him again. ^ You called me yesterday mountain-squire ; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to : if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

Gow. Enough, captain : you have astonish'd '-^ him.

Flu. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days. — Pite, I pray you ; it is goot for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

Pisl. Must I bite ?

Flu. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of ques- tion too, and ambiguities.

Pisl. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge : I eat, and eke I swear —

Flu. Eat, I pray you : will you have some more sauce to your leek ? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pisl. Quiet thy cudgel ; thou dost see I eat.

2 That is, stunned him, knocked him into confusion and numbness. Such is the proper meaning of to astonish.

154 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT IV.

Flu. Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away ; the skin is goot for your proken cox- comb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em ; that is all.

Pist. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is goot : hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist. Me a groat !

Flu. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it ; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels : you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cud- gels. Got b' wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

\_Exit.

Pist. All Hell shall stir for this.

Gow. Go, go ; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition, — begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of pre- deceased valour, — and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words ? I have seen you gleeking and galling ^ at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel : you find it otherwise ; and hence- forth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English con- dition.'* Fare ye well. S^Exit.

Pist. Doth Fortune play the huswife ^ with me now ? News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital

3 Gleekitig is scoffi,7ig, flouting ; and galling is here used in a kindred sense, — venting sarcasms^ things that irritate.

4 Condition, as usual, for temper or disposition.

5 Huswife iox Jilt, or hussy, as we have it still in common speech.

CHORUS. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 55

Of malady of France ;

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.

Old I do wax ; and from my weary limbs

Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd will I turn,

And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.

To England will I steal, and there I'll steal :

And patches will I get unto these scars,

And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. \_Exit.

ACT V.

Enter Chorus.

Cho. Vouchsafe all those that have not read the story, That I may prompt them : and, for such as have, I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, Which cannot in their huge and proper life Be here presented. Now we bear the King Toward Calais : grant him there ; there seen. Heave him away upon your winged thoughts Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach Pales-in ^ the flood with men, with wives, and boys, Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea, Which, like a mighty whiffler- 'fore the King, Seems to prepare his way : so let him land ;

1 To pale-in is to fence round or enclose with palings.

2 Whiffle is another form of whistle, and was used of a fife or pipe. As fifers or pipers commonly marched at the head of troops and processions, so whiffler came to be used of any one who went ahead of another to clear the way.

156 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

And solemnly^ see him set on to London :

So swift a pace hath thought, that even now

You may imagine him upon Blackheath.

Where -that "* his lords desire him to have borne

His bruised helmet and his bended sword

Before him through the city, he forbids it,

Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride ;

Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent,^

Quite from himself to God. But now behold.

In the quick forge and working-house of thought,

How London doth pour out her citizens !

The Mayor and all his brethren, in best sort, —

Like to the senators of th' antique Rome,

With the plebeians swarming at their heels, —

Go forth, and fetch their conquering Caesar in :

As, by a lower but loving likelihood.

Were now the general of our gracious Empress —

As in good time he may — from Ireland coming,

Bringing rebellion broached*^ on his sword.

How many would the peaceful city quit.

To welcome him ! much more, and much more cause,

Did they this Harry. Now in London place him ;

(As yet the lamentation of the French

3 Solemnly is in state, or with ordered pomp and ceremony. The proper construction is, "see him set on solemnly to London."

4 Where-that is plainly equivalent to whereas.

5 Ostent is shoto or display. See The Merchant, page 113, note 38.

^ Broached \s pierced through, transjixed. — The allusion is to the Elarl of Essex, who in April, 1599, set out for Ireland, as Governor, to put down the rebellion of Tyrone. His departure was an occasion of great enthu- siasm, people of all ranks thronging around him and showering benedictions upon him. But these bright anticipations were sadly disappointed. The expedition failed utterly ; and the Earl's return, in September following, was unhonoured and unmarked.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1 57

Invites the King of England's stay at home ;

The Emperor coming '^ in behalf of France,

To order peace between them ;) and omit

All the occurrences, whatever chanced,

Till Harry's back-return again to France :

There must we bring him ; and myself have play'd

The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.

Then brook abridgement ; and your eyes advance,

After your thoughts, straight back again to France. \_Exif.

Scene I. — Troyes in Cha7npagne. An Aparfmetit in the French King's Palace.

Enter, fro?n one side, King Henry, Bedford, Gloster, Exeter, Warwick, Westmoreland, and other Lords ; fro7n the other side, the French King, Queen Isabel, the Princess Catharine, Alice, other Ladies, and Lords; the Duke of Burgundy, and his Train.

K. Hen. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met ! ^ — Unto our brother France, and to our sister. Health and fair time of day ; — joy and good wishes To our most fair and princely cousin Catharine ; — And, as a branch and member of this royalty, By whom this great assembly is contrived. We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy ; — And, princes French, and peers, health to you all !

Fr. King. Right joyous are we to behold your face,

■^ The Emperor Sigismund, who was married to Henry's second cousin and who visited England at this time.

1 They have met together for the purpose of knitting up a peace, and the King begins by wishing peace to the meeting. " Peace, for which we are met, be to the meeting."

158 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

Most worthy brother England ; fairly met : — So are you, princes English, every one.

Q. Isa. So happy be the issue, brother England, Of this good day and of this gracious meeting. As we are now glad to behold your eyes ; Your eyes, which hitherto have born in them Against the French, that met them in their bent, The fatal balls of murdering basilisks : ^ The venom of such looks, we fairly hope, Have lost ^ their quality ; and that this day Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.

K. Hen. To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

Q. Isa. You English princes all, I do salute you.

Bur. My duty to you both, on equal love. Great Kings of France and England ! That I've labour'd, With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavours. To bring your most imperial Majesties Unto this bar "* and royal interview, Your mightiness' on both parts best can witness. Since, then, my office hath so far prevail'd, That, face to face and royal eye to eye, You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me,

2 The basilisk was a serpent which, it was anciently supposed, could destroy the object of his vengeance by merely looking at it. It was also a great gun; and the allusion here is double. See King Richard the Third, page 145, note 4.

3 Here the verb is made to agree with the nearest substantive, looks, in- stead of with its proper nominative, venorn. Shakespeare has many like instances of false concord. See page 124, note 27.

■* That is, this place of congress. Bar is a shortened form of barrier. Ordinarily, when sovereigns were to meet in the field for such purposes, a barrier was erected at the place agreed upon, as a protection of either party against the possible violence or treachery of the other. Hence bar came to be used for any place of meeting

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 159

If I demand, before this royal view,

What rub or what impediment there is,

Why that tlie naked, poor, and mangled Peace,

Dear nurse of arts, plenty, and joyful births,

Should not, in this best garden of the world,

Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage ?

Alas, she hath from France too long been chased !

And all her husbandry doth he on heaps,

Corrupting in its own fertility.

Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,

Unpruned dies ; her hedges even-pleach'd,^

Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair.

Put forth disorder'd twigs ; her fallow leas

The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory,

Do root upon, while that the coulter rusts.

That should deracinate ^ such savagery ;

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth

The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,

Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,

Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems

But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,

Losing both beauty and utility.

And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,

Defective in their natures,' grow to wildness.

Even so our houses, and ourselves and children,

^ Pleached, plaited, platted 'axQ all words of the same meaning, like the Latin plicitum ; folded together, or interwoven. So in Much Ado About Nothing, iii. i ; " The //^a<;-^^^ bower, where hone> suckles, ripened by the sun, forbid the sun to enter."

6 To deracinate is to force up by the roots.

7 Not defective in their productive virtue, for they grew to wildness ; but defective in their proper virtue, which was to serve man with food and sup port.

l60 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V

Have lost, or do not learn for want of time, The sciences that should become our country ; But grow, like savages, — as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood, — To swearing, and stern looks, defused ^ attire, And every thing that seems unnatural. Which to reduce into our former favour,^ You are assembled : and my speech entreats That I may know the let,^^ why gentle Peace Should not expel these inconveniences, And bless us with her former qualities.

K. Hen. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace, Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections Which you have cited, you must buy that peace With full accord to all our just demands ; Whose tenours and particular effects You have, enscheduled briefly, in your hands.

Bur. The King hath heard them ; to the which as yet There is no answer made.

K. Hen. Well, then, the peace,

Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.

Fr. King. I have but wath a cursorary^i eye , O'erglanced the articles : pleaseth your Grace T' appoint some of your Council presently To sit with us once more, with better heed

8 It appears from Florio's Dictionary, that diffused, or defused, was used for confused. Defused attire is therefore disordered or dishevelled attire. i 9 Favour YiQXG. means comeliness of appearance. — To reduce is to restore ox bring back ; a sense of the word now obsolete, but legitimate from the Latin reduco.

1"^ This is the ancient let, meaning hindrance or obstruction.

11 Cursorary appears to be a word of the Poet's own coining, no other instance of it being known. Cursory had not syllables enough for the place.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. l6l

To re-survey them, we will suddenly Pass our accept ^^ and peremptory answer.

K. Hen. Brother, we shall. — Go, uncle Exeter, — And brother Clarence, — and you, brother Gloster, — Warwick, — and Huntingdon,^^ — go with the King; And take with you free power to ratify. Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best Shall see advantageable i'* for our dignity, Any thing in or out of our demands ; And we'll consign thereto. — Will you, fair sister, Go with the princes, or stay here with us ?

Q. ha. Our gracious brother, I will go with them : Haply a woman's voice may do some good. When articles too nicely urged be stood on.

K. He7i. Yet leave our cousin Catharine here with us : She is our capital demand, comprised Within the fore-rank of our articles.

Q. Is a. She hath good leave.

[ Exeunt all but Henry, Catharine, and Alice.

K. Hen. Fair Catharine, 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 ?

12 Suddenly in the sense of quickly or speedily. Often so. To pass, as the word is here used, is, apparently, \ofix, conclude, or agree upon. So in

The Taming of the Shrew, iv. 2 : " To pass assurance of a dower in mar- riage." Accept, if the text be right, is merely a shortened form of acceptance. Shakespeare uses the same freedom in many words. See Critical Notes.

13 John Holland, Earl of Huntington, who afterwards married the widow of Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. Neither Huntingdon nor Clarence is in the list of Dramatis Personas, as neither of them speaks a word.

14 Advantageable for advantageous, just as, elsewhere, disputable for dis- putatious. This confusion of active and passive forms, both in adjectives and participles, occurs very often. See As You Like It, page 66, note 5.

l62 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

Cath. Your Majesty shall mock at me ; I cannot speak your England.

K. Hen. O fair Catharine, 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?

Cath. Pardo?inez-7noi, I cannot tell vat is iike ??ie.

K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.

Cath. Que dit il? que je suis semblable a les anges ?

Alice. Oui, vraiment, sauf votre Grace, ainsi dit-il.

K. Hen. I said so, dear Catharine ; and I must not blush to affirm it.

Cath. O bon Dieu ! les lajigucs des hommes sojit pleines de tromperies.

K. Hen. What says she, fair one ? that the tongues of men are full of deceit ?

Ahce. Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of de- ceits, — dat is de Princess.

K. Hen. The Princess is the better EngUshwoman. — I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding : 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, / /ove 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 ?

Cath. Sauf voire Honneur, me understand veil.

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

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 163

Strength in measure, i^"* yet a 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. Or, if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher, and sit like a jack- an-apes, never off. 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 fel- low of this temper, Kate, — whose face is not worth sun-burn- ing, that never looks in his glass for love of any thing 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 ihee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places : for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do always reason themselves out again. What ! a speaker is but a pra- ter ; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good leg will fall ; ^^ a straight back will stoop ; a black beard will turn white ; a curl'd pate wall 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

15 Afeasure is here used in the sense of dancing. To tread or dance a measure, was a common phrase. See Much Ado, page 42, note 5.

16 Uncoined constancy probably means an affection that has never " gone forth " ; a heart Hke virgin gold, that has never had any image stamped upon it.

1' Willyu// away, leaving "his youthful hose a world too wide for his shrunk shank."

164 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. act v.

bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me ; and take me, take a soldier; take ct soldier, take a king : and what say'st thou, then, to my love ? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Cath. Is it possible dat I sould 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.

Cath. I cannot tell vat is dat.

K. Hen. No, Kate ? I will tell thee in French ; which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. Quand j'ai la possession de France, et quand voiis avez la possession de 7fioi, — let me see, what then ? Saint Denis be my speed ! — doftc voire est France et vous etes 7?iie?ine. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom, as to speak so much more French : I shall never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me.

Cath. Sauf voire Honneur, le Fran^ais que vous parlez, il est ineilleur que V Anglais lequelje park.

K. Hen. No, faith, is't not, Kate ; but thy speaking of my tongue, and I thine, most truly-falsely, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou under- stand thus much English, Canst thou love me ?

Cath. I cannot tell. "

K. Hen. Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me : and at night, when you come into your closet, you'll question this gentlewoman about me ; and I know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. l6$

parts in me that you love with your heart : but, good Kate, mock me mercifully ; the rather, gentle Princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou be'st mine, Kate, — as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, — I get thee with scrambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder. What say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce ?

Ca//i. I do not know dat.

X. Hen. No ; 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise : do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavour for your French part ; and for my English moiety take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Catha- rine die ?nonde, mon tres-chere et divine deesse ?

Cath. Your Majeste diWQfausse French enough to deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en Frattce.

K. Hen, Now, fie upon my false French ! By mine hon- our, in true English, I love thee, Kate : by which honour I dare not swear thou lovest me ; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and un- tempting effect of my visage. Now, beshrew my father's ambition ! he was thinking of civil wars when he got me : therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with an as- pect of iron, that, when I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear : my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face : thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst ; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better. And therefore tell me, most fair Catha- rine, 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 thi?te : which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud, England is thine, Ireland is thine,

l66 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

France is thine, and Henry Plantagcnet 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 Catha- rines, break thy mind to me in broken English : wilt thou have me?

Cath. Datis as it sail please de roi 7non pere.

K. He7t. Nay, it will please him well, Kate, — it shall please him, Kate.

Cath. Den it sail also content me.

K. Hen. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.

Cath. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez : ma foi, je ne veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en baisani la main d'une votre i?idigne serviteur ; excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon tres-puissant seigneur.

K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

Cath. Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant leur noces, il n^ est pas la coutume de France.

K. Hen. Madam my interpreter, what says she ?

Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France, — I cannot tell what is baiser en Anglish.

K. Hen. To kiss.

Alice. Your Majesty etitendre bettre que moi.

K. Hen. It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?

Alice. Qui, vraiment.

K. Hen. O Kate, nice ^^ customs curtsy to great kings.

18 ''Broken music " is said to have meant the music of sucli instruments as lutes, harps, &c. See As You Like It, page 41, note 11.

19 Nice here is squeamish, scrupulous, fastidious. See As You Like It, nage 108, note 2.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 167

Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak hst^o of a country's fashion : we are the makers of manners, Kate ; and the hberty that follows our places stops the mouth 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.

Re-enter the French King and Queen, Burgundy, Bedford, Gloster, Exeter, Warwick, Westmorel.\nd, 6^r.

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.

Bur. Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle ;^i if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and Wind. Can .you blame her, then, being a maid yet rosed-over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if

20 Weak list is slight barrier; from the language of the tilt-yard.

21 Conjurers used to mark out a circle on the ground, within which their conjuring was to take effect by the appearance of the beings invoked Probably an equivoque is here intended, circle being also used for crotun.

1 68 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

she deny the appearance of a naked bhnd boy ? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.

K. Hen. Yet they do wink and yield ; as love is blind and enforces.

Bur. They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.

K. Hen. Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to con- sent winking.

Bur. I will wink-on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning : for maids, well summer'd and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide,^- blind, though they have their eyes.

K. Hen. This moral ^^ ties me over to time and a hot Summer; and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end, and she must be blind too.-

Bur. As love is, my lord, before it loves.

K. Hen. It is so : and 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.

Fr. King. Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turn'd into a maid ; ^'^ for they are girdled with maiden walls that war hath never enter'd.

K. Hen. Shall Kate be my wife ?

22 The feast of St. Bartholomew falls on the 24th of August. — Being un- skilled in entomology, I cannot vouch for the scientific accuracy of the text,

23 A moral is the meaning or application of a fable or apologue.

2* Perspectives were glasses or instruments to look through, such being the proper meaning of the word. They were of various kinds, and some, it seems, played rather queer pranks with the object looked at. One kind is thus spoken of in Humane Industry, 1651 : " A picture of the chancellor cf France presented to the common beholder a multitude of little faces ; but if one did look at it through a perspective, there appeared only a single pourtraiture of the chancellor." See Richard II., page 82, note 2.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 169

Fr, Kt?ig. So please you.

K. Hen. I am content ; so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her : so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show me the way to my will.

Fr. King. We have consented to all terms of reason.

K. Hen. Is't so, my lords of England ?

Wesf. The King hath granted every article : His daughter first ; and then, in sequel, all, According to their first-proposed natures.

Fxe. Only, he hath not yet subscribed this : Where your Majesty demands that the King of France, having any oc- casion to write for matter of grant, shall name your High- ness in this form and with this addition, in French, Notre tres-cher fils Henri, roi d'' Angle terre, heritier de France ; and thus in Latin, Prceclarissi?nus ^^ filius fioster Henricus, rex AnglicB, et hceres Francice.

Fr. King. Nor this I have not, brother, so denied, But your request shall make me let it pass.

K. Hen. I pray you, then, in love and dear alliance, Let that one article rank with the rest ; And thereupon give me your daughter.

Fr. Kitig. Take her, fair son ; and from her blood raise up Issue to me ; that the contending kingdoms Of France and England, whose very shores look pale With envy of each other's happiness, May cease their hatred ; and this dear conjunction Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord

25 Prcsclarisshnus for Prcecarissitnus. Shakespeare followed Holinshed, in whose Chronicle it stands thus. Indeed, all the old historians have the same blunder. In the original treaty of Troyes, printed in Rymer, it is prcBcarissimus.

I/O KING HENRY THE FIFTH. ACT V.

Ill their sweet bosoms, that ne'er war advance His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.

All. Amen !

K. Hen. Now, welcome, Kate ; — and bear me witness all, That here I kiss her as my sovereign Queen. \Flourish,

Q. Isa. God, the best maker of all marriages. Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one ! As man and wife, being two, are one in love. So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal, That never may ill office, or fell jealousy, Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage. Thrust in between the paction -^ of these kingdoms, To make divorce of their incorporate league ; That English may as French, French Englishmen, Receive each other ! — God speak this Amen !

All. Amen !

K. Hen. Prepare we for our marriage : — on which day. My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath, And all the peers', for surety of our league. — Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me ; And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be !

\_Sen?iet. Exeunt,

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen. Our bending-"^ author hath pursued the story; In little room confining mighty men, Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.^s

26 Paction is compact, alliance, or league.

27 Benditrg beneath the weight of the subject, as being unequal to it,

28 Giving ov\y fragments dC!\<\ glimpses of their full career.

SCENE I. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. I /I

Small time, but, in that small, most greatly lived

This star of England : Fortune made his sword ;

By which the world's best garden he achieved,

And of it left his son imperial lord.

Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King

Of France and England, did this King succeed ;

Whose State so many had the managing,

That they lost France, and made his England bleed :

Which oft our stage hath shown ; ^^ and, for their sake.

In your fair minds let this acceptance take. {_Exit.

29 The three Parts of King Henry VI. were written several years before this play, and often acted.

(

r

CRITICAL NOTES.

Prologue.

Page 38. O, pardon ! since a crooked figure may

Attest in little place a million. — Lettsom conjectures place to be an erratum for space. Rightly, I suspect.

Act I., Scene i.

P. 40. We lose the better half of our possessions. — So Hanmer and Collier's second folio. The old text has possession.

P. 40. Cant. The King is full of grace and fair regard. And a true lover of the holy Church.

Ely. The courses of his youth protnised it not. Cant. The breath no sooner left his fathei-"" s body, &c. — In the old text, the second of these lines is assigned to Ely, and the last two to Canterbury ; an arrangement, I think, that badly unhinges the dia- logue. The correction is Keightley's.

P. 41. N'ever came reformation in a flood.

With such a heady current, scouring faults. — So the second folio. The first has currance, which may be from the old French courance, and so may yield a fitting sense. But, as Lettsom remarks, " it is plain from the context that the scouring of a river is meant. Current, therefore, seems much the safer reading."

P. 41. So that the art and practic part of life

Must be the inistress to his theoric. — So the third folio. The earlier editions read " to this theoric." The context readily shows his to be right.

1/4 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

P. 43. The several and unhidden passages

Of his true titles to sonte cei'tain dukedoms, &c. — The old text has severals, which is sometimes explained details ox particulars. But the context seems fairly to require several, which is Pope's reading. Here, as in divers other places, and, I take it, is simply redundant. So that the meaning is " The several open and apparent derivations," &c.

Act I., Scene 2.

P. 47. To fine his title ivith some show of truth. --^ So the quartos. The folio reads "Toyfwt/his title." Neithery?;?-? nor _y?«<a^ yields a very appropriate sense. Johnson at one time conjectured liite, but after- wards withdrew the conjecture. As the Poet repeatedly uses to line for to strengthen, I should make no scruple of adopting that word but that line occurs in a very different sense just before. Perhaps bind is the right word. To fix, to confirm, to secure are among the ordinary senses of to bitid; so that the word would fit the context very well. And in my experience the letters b and / are apt to be confounded. Colher's second folio substitutes /cz^r/z^'. See foot-note 9.

P. 48. And rather choose to hide them in a net

Than amply to imbar their crooked titles, &c. — ^So the Cam- bridge Editors. The first two quartos have imbace, the third embrace, and the folio imbarre. Warburton proposed imbare, and most of the recent editor* have adopted that reading. Of course to imbare must mean to lay bare, to expose. But I think imbar, in the sense of bar, that is, exclude or set aside, accords quite as well with the context, and with less of departure from authority.

P. 48. For in the Book of Ahifnbers it is ivrit,

When the man dies, let the inheritance

Descend unto the daughter. — So the folio. The quartos read " When the sonne dyes." In our common version of the Bible, the passage referred to stands thus : " If a niaji die, and have no son, then ye shall cause the inheritance to pass unto his daughter." For the same as given by Holinshed, see foot-note 13. As Dyce observes, " There is not a word in Scripture about the contingency of the son dying ; and the law was declared in consecjuence of the claim put in

CRITICAL NOTES. 175

by the daughters of Zelophehad, ' who had no sons.' " So I think there can be no doubt that we ought to read with the foho ; where the hav- ing no son is fairly implied.

P. 49. Your brother kings and mofiarchs of the Earth Do all expect that you should rouse yourself. As did the for /ner lions of your blood : They know your Grace hath cause and means and might.

West. So hath your Highness, &c. — So Walker, and with evident propriety. The old text sets the prefix *' JVesty before the last line of the preceding speech.

P. 50. The King of Scots ; ivhom she did send to France, To fill King Edward'' s fame with prisoner kings. And make her chronicle as rich with praise, &c. — The quar- tos read '■^ your chronicle," the folio " their chronicle." The correc- tion is fully justified by the context. It was proposed by Johnson. — In the second line, Collier's second folio substitutes train for fame. Not an improvement, I think.

P. 51. Playing the tnozise in absence of the cat.

To tear and havoc more than she can eat. — Instead of tear, the quartos have spoil, the folio ta??ie ; the latter being no doubt a misprint for tear, which is Rowe's correction.

P. 51. Yet that is but a crush'd necessity.

Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,

And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. — So the folio. In- stead of crush'' d, the quartos have curst. Sevei-al changes have been made or proposed, the best of which, I think, is Mason's, " that is not a curst necessity." Of recent editors, Collier, White, and Dyce read curst ; Singer, Staunton, and the Cambridge Editors, crushed. On the whole, I find it not easy to choose between the two readings. The sense which the context seems to require is that of z. forced ox strained necessity; that is, the necessity is apparent only: it is not really necessary that the cat should stay at home, since we have other means uf security against the mousing weasel. Can this sense be fairly got out of crush'' d, by taking the word to be used proleptically ? a necessity

176 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

that TJuill or fnay be crushed or overcome by the use of locks and traps ? The Poet has many Hke instances of prolepsis. With curst^ the meaning seems to be, that it is but a perverse or untoward neces- sity, — one that may vex and annoy ; yet it is by no means invincible, since the cat's presence can be made up by something else. — In the third line, Steevens proposed /^//j/ instead oi pretty. But Shakespeare repeatedly uses pretty with the sense of fit, apt, or suitable.

P. 52. Creatures that, by a rule in Nature, teach

The art of order to a peopled kingdom. — So Pope and Col- lier's second foHo. The old text reads "The Act of Order." To teach an act is rather odd English.

P. 53. France being ours, weHl bend it to our awe. Or break it all to pieces : there we'' II sit.

Ruling in large and ample e7?ipery, &c. — The old text readu " Or there wee'l sit " ; or having no doubt been repeated by mistake. Corrected by Pope.

P. 53. Or else our grave.

Like Turkish mutes, shall have a tongue less mouth. — So Walker. The folio has " Like Turkish muteP The corresponding passage in the quartos has "like toonglesse mutes.'"

P. 54. Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right

Of your great predecessor, Edward Third. — So Collier's sec- ond folio. The old text has ''King Edward the Third." Pope left out King, and Walker would omit the.

P. 56. We never valued this poor seat of England ; And therefore, living here, did give ourself To barbarous license. — The old text reads " living henceP The correction is Hanmer's. Mason justly says of the old reading, that it " cannot be reconciled to sense."

P. 56. But tell the Dauphin, I will keep my state, Be like a king, and shotu my soul of greatness, IVhen I do rouse me in my throne of France .'

CRITICAL NOTES. 1 7?

For here / have laid by fuy majesty ,

And plodded like a man for working days ;

But I will rise there with so full a glory ^ &c, — So Collier's second folio. The old copies have, in the second line, sail instead of soul, and, in the fourth, that and this instead of here. The words sail and throne, it seems to me, do not pull very well together ; while the strained attempts which have been made, to explain that or this, are enough, I think, to put the old texc out of court.

Act I., Scene 3.

P. 58. Scene III. — London, d^c. — In the folio the first Act of this play has no marking of the scenes at all, and extends down to the end of what modern editions give as the end of the second Act. And the matter of the present scene is there placed after the second Chorus. Various editors, from Pope downwards, have judged, and rightly, no doubt, that the scene ought to come in before the Chorus, and thus close the first Act, instead of opening the second Act, as it does in modern editions generally. The propriety of the transposition is so evident, that I have ventured to make it.

P. 58. But, when the time comes, there shall be smites. — The old text has stniles instead of smites. The correction was proposed by Farmer, and is made in Collier's second folio.

P. 58. And we'' II be all sworn brothers in France. — The old text has " brothers to France," to having probably crept in out of place from the line above. The correction is Johnson's.

P. 58. And, when I cannot live any longer, I will die as I may. — So Mason and Walker. The old copies have do and doe instead of die.

P. 59. O well-a-day. Lady, if he be not drawn ! — The old text reads " if he be not hewne.^^ Corrected by Theobald.

P. 61. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, — and yon, hostess. — The old text has "and j<?«r hostess."

i;78 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

Act II., Chorus.

P. 63, Now thrive the armourers. — Collier's second folio substi- tutes strive for thrive. I suspect strive is right ; but it may be that, in such cases, the armourers were wont to receive a fee from those whom they sei^ved.

P. 65. 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. The sum is paid ; the traitors are agreed ;

The King is set from London ; &c. — Between the third and fourth of these lines, the folio has the following :

Linger your patience on, and wee'l digest Th' abuse of distance ; force a play.

Pope tinkered this into " and well digest th' abuse of distance, while we force a play." Collier's second folio reads " and so force a play." No one, so far as I know, has explained the meaning of force a play ; and it seems to me stark nonsense. I cannot but regard the two lines as an interpolation : besides being unintelligible, they have no sort of fitness to the context, and are simply a nuisance. Knight thinks they "were intended to be erased from the author's copy"; and Lettsom says " they appear to have formed a portion of the close of this Chorus, ,and to have been replaced by the lines beginning with ' The simi is paid.*"

P. 65. We'll not offend one stomach with our play. — Here, again, the folio has two lines added, thus :

But till the King come forth, and not till then, Unto Southampton do we shift our Scene.

This flatly contradicts what the Chorus has just said, "The scene is now transported, gentles, to Southampton." Moreover, the first line flatly contradicts itself, and cannot be reduced to consistency without chang- ing " Till the King come forth " to " When the King comes forth," which is indeed Hanmer's reading. As I have already noted, the folio

CRITICAL NOTES. 1/9

sets this Chorus before the scene which here precedes it ; and the two lines were probably added by some " scribbler," in order to patch up the disorder resulting from that misplacement of the Chorus.

Act II., Scene i.

P. 66. And shall forget the office of our hand.

Sooner than quittance of desert and merit

According to their weight and ivorthiness. — The folio has " According to the weight." The correction is derived from the quar- tos, which read " According to their caused''

P. 67. We consider

It was excess of wine that set him on ;

And, on our more advice, zve pardon him. — The old copies read " on his more advice." The correction is from Collier's second folio. Lettsom thinks " the error proceeded from him and his occur- ring in the neighbourhood."

P. 68. To furnish him with all appertinents. — Th^ first folio lacks him, which is supplied in the second.

P. 70. But he that tempted thee bade thee stand up, &c. — The old text has temper'' d instead of tempted, which was proposed by Johnson. As Lettsom says, " the context requires temptedP

P. 70. Show men dutiful ?

Why, so didst thou : or seem they grave and learned, &c. — The old text omits or, which was supplied by Pope. I cannot think the Poet would leave such a gap in the metre here.

P. 71. And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,

To mark X^o. full- fraught matt and best-itidued With some suspicioti. — The old text reads "To make thee ix:^ fraught." Corrected by Theobald.

P. 72. Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, — The first folio omits /, which is supplied in the second.

l80 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

Act II., Scene 2.

P. 74. ^A made a fine end. — So Capell. The old text has " a finer end," Mason says, " * He made a fine end ' is at this day a vulgar expression, when any person dies with resolution and devotion." And Walker notes upon the text, " Surelyy?;/)? is the right reading."

P. 74. For his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. — The old text reads " and a Table of greene fields." The well- known emendation is Theobald's, and is probably the happiest one ever made in Shakespeare's text. I subjoin Theobald's account of it : " I have an edition of Shakespeare by me with some marginal conjec- tures of a gentleman sometime deceased ; and he is of the mind to correct this passage thus ; ' for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a talked of green fields.' It is certainly observable of people near death, when they are delirious by a fever, that they talk of moving ; as it is of those in a calenture, that they have their heads run on green fields. The variation from Table to talked is not of a very great latitude ; though we may still come nearer the traces of the letters by restoring it thus ; * for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babied of green fields.' To bable, or babble, is to mutter, or speak indiscriminately, like children that cannot yet talk, or dying persons when they are losing the use of speech."

Act II., Scene 3.

P. 78. So the proportions of defence are filVd ; WTiich of a weak and niggardly projection. Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting A little cloth. — The construction here is very awkward and irregular, to say the least. I strongly suspect we ought to adopt Malone's conjecture, " While oft a weak," &c. See, however, foot- note 5.

P. 78. Whiles that his mighty sire — on mountain standing. Sec. — Not in the quartos. The folio has mountain instead of mighty. Theo- bald substituted mounting, and Coleridge proposed monarchy not hap- pily, I think. The reading in the text was proposed anonymously in

CRITICAL NOTES. l8l

1845, ^"^ ^5 ^^so found in Collier's second folio. The old reading looks, to me, very like a player's improvement on what the Poet wrote. Mountain seems quite inappropriate as an epithet of Edward the Third : had it been used of his father, there might have been some fit- ness in it, as Edward the Second was in fact born among the mountains in Wales, and the Welsh made a good deal of that circumstance. In support of mountain, Steevens quotes from The Faerie Queene, i. 11,4:

^Vhere strecht he lay upon the sunny side Of a great hill, hitnselfe like a great hill.

If Steevens had quoted the preceding line, — " Eftsoones that dreadful Dragon they espyde," — I think the quotation would have been seen at once to be something unapt.

P. 79. From our brother England. — So the first two quartos. The third quarto and the folio have " our brother of England." The same difference occurs again shortly after : " Back to our brother England."

P. 80. Willing you overlook his pedigree. — The old copies have " this pedigree." Corrected by Rowe. This instances of his and this confounded are very numerous.

P. 80. Therefore in fiery tempest is he coming. — So Walker. The old text has fierce instead of fiery. The latter word being spelt fierie, such a misprint was very easy.

Act III., Chorus.

P. 82. Suppose that you have seen

The Tvell-appointed King at Hampton pier

Enibark his royalty. — The original has "at Dover pier." A very palpable error, which Theobald corrected.

P. 83. With silken streamers the young Fhcebus fanning. — The original \i2,% fayning. Hardly worth noting.

P. 83. Behold the threaden sails.

Borne luith th' invisible and creepi7ig ivind, &c. — Collier's sec- ond folio substitutes Blown for Borne. Rightly, I suspect. Lettsom

1 82 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

notes upon it thus: "I believe that Collier's Corrector was right in reading Blown. For blown in this sense see particularly Pericles, v., I : * Towards Ephesus turn our blown sails.' "

Act III., Scene i.

P. 84. Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. — The old text has " comi7tune up the blood." Corrected by Rowe.

P. 85. On, on, yoti noble English. — The original has noblish in- stead of noble ; the ending of the next word having, no doubt, been accidentally repeated. The meaning is "you English nobles,'''' as dis- tinguished from the " good yeomen " whom the King addresses a little after. Corrected by Malone.

P. 85. Be copy 7107a to men of gj'osser blood. — So the fourth folio. The earlier editions have me instead of jnen.

P. 85. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips.

Straining upon the start. — The old text has " strayifig upon the start." Corrected by Rowe.

P. 86. Got's plood I — Up to the preaches, you rascals ! — So the quartos. The folio reads " Up to the breach, you Dogges ; avaunt you Cullions." And all the old copies are very irregular and inconstant throtighout in regard to Fluellen's dialect, shifting between breach and p/each, bridge and pridge, God zxiA Got, good and goot, world and ''orld ; as also between war and wars, &c. I agree with Dyce that his dialect ought to be made consistently Welsh, and print accordingly.

P. 90. The day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the Kitig, and the duke. — The old text has "and the Dukes." The reference probably is to the Duke of Gloster, who, a little before, is said to be "altogether directed" by Macmorris.

P. 90. 0/ my nation ! What ish my nation ? what ish my nation ? Who talks of my nation ish a villain, and a basterd, ajid a knave, and a rascal. — This speech is not in the quartos. In the folio it makes three lines, and the second and third lines are transposed, thus : " Of

CRITICAL NOTES. 1 83

my nation ! What ish my nation ? Ish a villain, and a basterd, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish my nation ? Who talks of my nation? " This odd displacement of the text was continued till our day, and for the happy correction we are indebted to Knight.

P. 91. Gentlemen both, you still mistake each other. — So Walker. The old text reads "you ivill mistake." As Gower everywhere else uses correct English, and as the " gentlemen " have been " mistaking each other " all along, I have no scruple about the change.

Act III., Scene 2.

P. 92. Look to see

The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters. — The old text has ^'■Desire the locks." Corrected by Rowe.

P. 93. The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated.

Returns us, that his powers are not yet ready. — The folio reads " are yet not ready." Capell's correction from the quartos.

Act III., Scene 4.

P. 97. Poor we may call them in their native lords ! — So the sec- ond folio. The first omits may. The passage is not in the quartos.

P. 98. Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois ;

High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, aw^T knights, For your great seats, now quit you of great shames. — The old text has Loys instead of Foix. In iv. 8, the same name is there mis- printed Foyes. In the second line, the old text has Kings instead of knights. Corrected by Theobald. In the third line, Collier's second folio changes seats to states, which may be right.

Act III., Scene 5.

P. 99. There is an auncient there at the pridge. — The folio reads "an aunchient Lieutenant there "; the quartos, " an ensigne there." It is nowise likely that Fluellen would use both titles together, and he repeatedly calls; Pistol Auncient.

184 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

P. 100. Bardolph, a soldier, fir 711 and sound of heart.

Of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, &c. — The old text reads **And of buxom valour." Corrected by Capell.

P. 102. Which they trick up with «^z£;-coined oaths. — So Collier's second folio. The old text has " with new-tuned Oathes." Pope reads " with r\ew-turned oaths."

Act III., Scene 6.

P. 106. / will not change my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. — So the second folio. The first has " four postures.''^ Not in the quartos.

Act IV., Chorus.

P. 112. The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll.

And the third hour of droTusy morning name. — The old text has na77i'd instead of name. Corrected by Tyrwhitt.

P, 112. And their gesture sad, ip

Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats, Presenteth the7n unto the gazing Moon

So m.any horrid ghosts. — Instead of Presenteth, the old text has Presented. — Divers editors have stumbled rather strangely at the word investing \iQxe. Hanmer reads "/« wasted lank-lean cheeks"; Warburton, "/w^^^^/ /« lank-lean cheeks"; Heath proposes "In fast- ing lank-lean cheeks," and Staunton "htfestive, lank-lean cheeks " ; while Capell transposes the line, — "And war-worn coats, investing lank-lean cheeks." I mention all this merely for the curiosity of the thing. Except that the metaphor is somewhat strained, I see no diffi- culty in the old text. See foot-note 6.

P. 113. A largess universal, like the Sun, His liberal eye doth give to every one. Thawing cold fear ; that 7nean and gentle all Behold, as 7nay unworthiness define,

A little touch of IIar7'y in the night. — Various editors, among them Theobald, Singer, Staunton, and Dyce, understand the latter half

CRITICAL NOTES. l8$

of this, all after cold fear ^ as being addressed to the audience, and so print it thus : " Thawing cold fear. TheJi, mean and gentle all, Be- hold," &c. For my part, I have never so understood the passage, nor do I see any occasion for so understanding it. It seems to me that the latter half is merely a continuation of the foregoing narrative or de- scription, and that " mean and gentle all " refers to the different ranks of the army. See foot-note 8.

Act IV., Scene i.

P. Ii6. So! in the name of Chesu Christ, speak lower. — So the third quarto. The other quartos have lewer, the folio y^u^^r.

P. 117. Under Sir Thomo.?, Erpingham. — The old text has jfohn instead of Thomas. Corrected by Pope.

P. 118. Court. Ay, or more than we should seek after ; &c. — The old text assigns this speech to Bates. Malone remarks that " this senti- ment does not correspond with what Bates has just before said "; and he thinks " the speech should be given to Courts Surely Malone is right in this.

P. 1 19. When all those legs and arms and hands, chopped off in battle. — So the second folio. The first has " in a Battaile." The same a little after, in " I am afraid there are few die well that die in battle."

P. 120. Will. ' Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill is upon his own head. — So the fourth folio. The earlier editions omit is. — Here, again, I suspect, wdth Malone and Capell, that the speech ought to be given to Court. Possibly, however, the Poet meant to indicate that the King's argument has wrought some change of opinion in Williams.

P. 123. O ceremony, show me but thy zoorth !

What are thy rents ? what are thy comings-in ?

What is thy soul of adoratioti ? — In the old text the first and second of these lines are transposed. The correction is Lettsom's. — The first folio has " thy Soule of OdorationP Corrected in the sec- ond. Some editors, finding a difficulty in the line, adopt Johnson's

1 86 KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

reading, — " What is thy soul, O adoration ? " I do not see how this helps the matter at all. Collier's second folio reads " What is thy soul but adulation ? " A very strange sentiment to be put into the King's mouth! See foot-note 21.

P. 125. O God of battles ! steel my soldiers' hearts; Possess them not with fear ; take from them now The sense of reckoning., if th'' opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them. — So the folio, except that, in the third line, it reads " The sense of reckoning of th' opposed num- bers." A good deal has been written upon the passage ; but the slight change proposed by Tyrwhitt, of to if, gives it a fitting sense : only the auxiliary would needs to be understood before Pluck. As Steevens observes, "if the sense of reckoning was taken from them, the numbers opposed to them would be no longer formidable ; when they could no more count their enemies, they could no longer fear them." And such is the sense of the quarto reading :

O God of battels, Steele my souldiers harts, Take from them now the sence of reckoning. That the apposed multitudes which stand before them May not appall their courage.

Act IV., Scene 2.

P. 1 26. That their hot blood may spin in English eyes.

And dont them with superfluous courage. — The old text has doubt, which seems to have been a not uncommon spelling of dout. At all events, the sense of dout is clearly required. Some have strained hard to make the sense of doubt fit the occasion ; but it will not go.

P. 128. The gum down-roping froiti their pale-dead eyes. And in their pall'd dull motiths the gi77imal-bit Lies foul with chew'' d grass, still and motiojtless. — The old text reads "And in \}ci€\x pale dull mouths." I am not disposed to lay very great stress on the repetition oi pale, awkward as it is ; but surely the Poet would not have thus applied it to an exhausted horse's mouth. On the other hand, palVd, if written paid, as was often the case in sim- ilar words, might easily be mistaken for pale. In fact, instances of

CRITICAL NOTES. I 8/

final dand final e confounded are very frequent. And palVd, in the sense of broken, spiritless, depressed, suits the context well. So in An- tony and Cleopatra, ii. 7 : " I'll never follow \hy p<zlPd fortunes more." Here the spelling of the original is pauVd. Capell's reading in the text is " And in ihexx palled mouths."

P. 128. I stay but for my gmdon : to the field I

I will the bamier from a trumpet take.

And use it for ?ny haste. — The old text reads " I stay but for my Guard : on to the field." The Cambridge Editors print as in the text, and make the following note thereon: "The conjectural reading, guidon, which is attributed by recent editors to Dr. Thackeray, late Provost of King's College, Cambridge, is found in Rann's edition, without any name attached. Dr. Thackeray probably made the con- jecture independently. We find it written in pencil on the margin of his copy of Nares' Glossary, under the word Guards I must add, that Walker fully approves of the correction. See foot-note 11.

Act IV., Scene 3.

P. 129. Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury ; and good luck go with thee. Exe. Farewell, kind lord ; fight valiantly to day : And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it.

For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour. — In the folio the second of these lines, prefix and all, occupies the place of the fourth ; so that the whole passage stands thus :

Bed/. Farewell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee: And yet I doe thee wrong to mind thee of it, For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valour-

Exe. Farewell kind Lord: fight valiantly to-day.

Thirlby made the correction, and a very happy one it is too.

P. 130. We woidd not live in that man''s company

That fears his fellowship to die with us. — In the first of these lines the old text has die instead of live, which was proposed by Cole- ridge. The propriety of the change, both for the antithesis it makes with die in the next line, and for its fitness to what precedes, seems evident enough. Of course the meaning of the second line is, "That fears tc die in fellowship with us."

l88 KING HENRY* THE FIFTH.

P. 131. He that shall live this day, and see old age. — The folio reads " He that shall see this day, and live old age." Pope made the correc- tion, which is indeed obvious enough.

P. 131. Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,

And say. These wounds I had on Crispin's day. — ^The second of these lines is not in the folio, but is justly retained fi\)m the quartos by most editors, because, without it, the transition to what follows is too abrupt.

P. 131. Then shall our names.

Familiar iti their mouths as household words, — Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter^ Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster, — Be in their flowing cups freshly re7nember^d. — So the quartos. In the second line, the folio reads " Familiar in his moiithP Either reading fits the context well enough ; "/zw mouth" referring to the old war-marked soldier who is supposed to be " feasting his neighbours,' and telling them " what feats he did that day." But, as Singer ob- serves, " the established reading of the quartos has so long been * familiar in our mouths,' that it would be rash and unpopular to dis- turb it."

P. 133. Mark, then, abounding valour in our English;

That, being dead, like to the bullefs grazing.

Break out into a second course of mischief

Killing in relapse of mortality. — In the first of these lines, the quartos have " abundant valour." Theobald printed " a bounding valour." Collier's second folio reads " rebounding valour," which Knight also conjectured, and which may be right. — In the second line, the first folio has " bullet's erasing.^"* Corrected in the second folio. But should it not \y^ glancing? In the last line, again. Collier's second folio changes relapse to reflex ; which seems to me a vicious change, because it gives a wrong meaning. Besides being, I think, just the right word, relapse would not easily be misprinted for reflex. See foot-note 10.

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