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cM>P??2911...A2H8     1 933 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


KING  HENRY  THE  FIFTH 


INTRODUCTION,  AND  NOTES   EXPLANATORY  AND  CRITICAL. 


FOR    USE    IN    SCHOOLS    AND    FAMILIES. 


Rev.    henry    N.    HUDSON,    LL.D. 


»  »      >1    5       , 


^q 


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. 


3Jiiiiiiiii 

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