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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 330

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Therefore the Dukes of Berry and of Britaine, Of Brabant and of Orleance, shall make forth, And you Prince Dolphin, with all swift dispatch To lyne and new repayre our Townes of Warre With men of courage, and with meanes defendant: For England his approaches makes as fierce, As Waters to the sucking of a Gulfe.

It fits vs then to be as prouident, As feare may teach vs, out of late examples Left by the fatall and neglected English, Vpon our fields

Dolphin. My most redoubted Father, It is most meet we arme vs 'gainst the Foe: For Peace it selfe should not so dull a Kingdome, (Though War nor no knowne Quarrel were in question) But that Defences, Musters, Preparations, Should be maintain'd, a.s.sembled, and collected, As were a Warre in expectation.

Therefore I say, 'tis meet we all goe forth, To view the sick and feeble parts of France: And let vs doe it with no shew of feare, No, with no more, then if we heard that England Were busied with a Whitson Morris-dance: For, my good Liege, shee is so idly King'd, Her Scepter so phantastically borne, By a vaine giddie shallow humorous Youth, That feare attends her not

Const. O peace, Prince Dolphin, You are too much mistaken in this King: Question your Grace the late Emba.s.sadors, With what great State he heard their Emba.s.sie, How well supply'd with n.o.ble Councellors, How modest in exception; and withall, How terrible in constant resolution: And you shall find, his Vanities fore-spent, Were but the out-side of the Roman Brutus, Couering Discretion with a Coat of Folly; As Gardeners doe with Ordure hide those Roots That shall first spring, and be most delicate



Dolphin. Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable.

But though we thinke it so, it is no matter: In cases of defence, 'tis best to weigh The Enemie more mightie then he seemes, So the proportions of defence are fill'd: Which of a weake and n.i.g.g.ardly proiection, Doth like a Miser spoyle his Coat, with scanting A little Cloth

King. Thinke we King Harry strong: And Princes, looke you strongly arme to meet him.

The Kindred of him hath beene flesht vpon vs: And he is bred out of that bloodie straine, That haunted vs in our familiar Pathes: Witnesse our too much memorable shame, When Cressy Battell fatally was strucke, And all our Princes captiu'd, by the hand Of that black Name, Edward, black Prince of Wales: Whiles that his Mountaine Sire, on Mountaine standing Vp in the Ayre, crown'd with the Golden Sunne, Saw his Heroicall Seed, and smil'd to see him Mangle the Worke of Nature, and deface The Patternes, that by G.o.d and by French Fathers Had twentie yeeres been made. This is a Stem Of that Victorious Stock: and let vs feare The Natiue mightinesse and fate of him.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Emba.s.sadors from Harry King of England, Doe craue admittance to your Maiestie

King. Weele giue them present audience.

Goe, and bring them.

You see this Chase is hotly followed, friends

Dolphin. Turne head, and stop pursuit: for coward Dogs Most spend their mouths, whe[n] what they seem to threaten Runs farre before them. Good my Soueraigne Take vp the English short, and let them know Of what a Monarchie you are the Head: Selfe-loue, my Liege, is not so vile a sinne, As selfe-neglecting.

Enter Exeter.

King. From our Brother of England?

Exe. From him, and thus he greets your Maiestie: He wills you in the Name of G.o.d Almightie, That you deuest your selfe, and lay apart The borrowed Glories, that by gift of Heauen, By Law of Nature, and of Nations, longs To him and to his Heires, namely, the Crowne, And all wide-stretched Honors, that pertaine By Custome, and the Ordinance of Times, Vnto the Crowne of France: that you may know 'Tis no sinister, nor no awkward Clayme, Pickt from the worme-holes of long-vanisht dayes, Nor from the dust of old Obliuion rakt, He sends you this most memorable Lyne, In euery Branch truly demonstratiue; Willing you ouer-looke this Pedigree: And when you find him euenly deriu'd From his most fam'd, of famous Ancestors, Edward the third; he bids you then resigne Your Crowne and Kingdome, indirectly held From him, the Natiue and true Challenger

King. Or else what followes?

Exe. b.l.o.o.d.y constraint: for if you hide the Crowne Euen in your hearts, there will he rake for it.

Therefore in fierce Tempest is he comming, In Thunder and in Earth-quake, like a Ioue: That if requiring faile, he will compell.

And bids you, in the Bowels of the Lord, Deliuer vp the Crowne, and to take mercie On the poore Soules, for whom this hungry Warre Opens his vastie Iawes: and on your head Turning the Widdowes Teares, the Orphans Cryes, The dead-mens Blood, the priuy Maidens Groanes, For Husbands, Fathers, and betrothed Louers, That shall be swallowed in this Controuersie.

This is his Clayme, his Threatning, and my Message: Vnlesse the Dolphin be in presence here; To whom expressely I bring greeting to

King. For vs, we will consider of this further: To morrow shall you beare our full intent Back to our Brother of England

Dolph. For the Dolphin, I stand here for him: what to him from England?

Exe. Scorne and defiance, sleight regard, contempt, And any thing that may not mis-become The mightie Sender, doth he prize you at.

Thus sayes my King: and if your Fathers Highnesse Doe not, in graunt of all demands at large, Sweeten the bitter Mock you sent his Maiestie; Hee'le call you to so hot an Answer of it, That Caues and Wombie Vaultages of France Shall chide your Trespas, and returne your Mock In second Accent of his Ordinance

Dolph. Say: if my Father render faire returne, It is against my will: for I desire Nothing but Oddes with England.

To that end, as matching to his Youth and Vanitie, I did present him with the Paris-b.a.l.l.s

Exe. Hee'le make your Paris Louer shake for it, Were it the Mistresse Court of mightie Europe: And be a.s.sur'd, you'le find a diff'rence, As we his Subiects haue in wonder found, Betweene the promise of his greener dayes, And these he masters now: now he weighes Time Euen to the vtmost Graine: that you shall reade In your owne Losses, if he stay in France

King. To morrow shall you know our mind at full.

Flourish.

Exe. Dispatch vs with all speed, least that our King Come here himselfe to question our delay; For he is footed in this Land already

King. You shalbe soone dispatcht, with faire conditions.

A Night is but small breathe, and little pawse, To answer matters of this consequence.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Flourish. Enter Chorus.

Thus with imagin'd wing our swift Scene flyes, In motion of no lesse celeritie then that of Thought.

Suppose, that you haue seene The well-appointed King at Douer Peer, Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet, With silken Streamers, the young Phebus fayning; Play with your Fancies: and in them behold, Vpon the Hempen Tackle, s.h.i.+p-boyes climbing; Heare the shrill Whistle, which doth order giue To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles, Borne with th' inuisible and creeping Wind, Draw the huge Bottomes through the furrowed Sea, Bresting the loftie Surge. O, doe but thinke You stand vpon the Riuage, and behold A Citie on th' inconstant Billowes dauncing: For so appeares this Fleet Maiesticall, Holding due course to Harflew. Follow, follow: Grapple your minds to sternage of this Nauie, And leaue your England as dead Mid-night, still, Guarded with Grandsires, Babyes, and old Women, Eyther past, or not arriu'd to pyth and puissance: For who is he, whose Chin is but enricht With one appearing Hayre, that will not follow These cull'd and choyse-drawne Caualiers to France?

Worke, worke your Thoughts, and therein see a Siege: Behold the Ordenance on their Carriages, With fatall mouthes gaping on girded Harflew.

Suppose th' Emba.s.sador from the French comes back: Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him Katherine his Daughter, and with her to Dowrie, Some petty and vnprofitable Dukedomes.

The offer likes not: and the nimble Gunner With Lynstock now the diuellish Cannon touches,

Alarum, and Chambers goe off.

And downe goes all before them. Still be kind, And eech out our performance with your mind.

Enter.

Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester. Alarum: Scaling Ladders at Harflew.

King. Once more vnto the Breach, Deare friends, once more; Or close the Wall vp with our English dead: In Peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillnesse, and humilitie: But when the blast of Warre blowes in our eares, Then imitate the action of the Tyger: Stiffen the sinewes, commune vp the blood, Disguise faire Nature with hard-fauour'd Rage: Then lend the Eye a terrible aspect: Let it pry through the portage of the Head, Like the Bra.s.se Cannon: let the Brow o'rewhelme it, As fearefully, as doth a galled Rocke O're-hang and iutty his confounded Base, Swill'd with the wild and wastfull Ocean.

Now set the Teeth, and stretch the Nosthrill wide, Hold hard the Breath, and bend vp euery Spirit To his full height. On, on, you n.o.blish English, Whose blood is fet from Fathers of Warre-proofe: Fathers, that like so many Alexanders, Haue in these parts from Morne till Euen 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 Coppy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to Warre. And you good Yeomen, Whose Lyms were made in England; shew vs here The mettell of your Pasture: let vs sweare, That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not: For there is none of you so meane and base, That hath not n.o.ble l.u.s.ter in your eyes.

I see you stand like Grey-hounds in the slips, Straying vpon the Start. The Game's afoot: Follow your Spirit; and vpon this Charge, Cry, G.o.d for Harry, England, and S[aint]. George.

Alarum, and Chambers goe off.

Enter Nim, Bardolph, Pistoll, and Boy.

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

Nim. 'Pray thee Corporall stay, the Knocks are too hot: and for mine owne part, I haue not a Case of Liues: the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plaine-Song of it

Pist. The plaine-Song is most iust: for humors doe abound: Knocks goe and come: G.o.ds Va.s.sals drop and dye: and Sword and s.h.i.+eld, in b.l.o.o.d.y Field, doth winne immortall fame

Boy. Would I were in a Ale-house in London, I would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and safetie

Pist. And I: If wishes would preuayle with me, my purpose should not fayle with me; but thither would I high

Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth sing on bough.

Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Vp to the breach, you Dogges; auaunt you Cullions

Pist. Be mercifull great Duke to men of Mould: abate thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage, great Duke. Good Bawc.o.c.k bate thy Rage: vse lenitie sweet Chuck

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