The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

and might-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.

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

In aid whereof we of the spiritualty

Will raise your Highness such a mighty sum As never did the clergy at one time

Bring in to any of your ancestors.

KING HENRY. We must not only arm t’ invade the French, But lay down our proportions to defend Against the Scot, who will make road upon us With all advantages.

CANTERBURY. They of those marches, gracious sovereign, Shall be a wall sufficient to defend

Our inland from the pilfering borderers.

KING HENRY. We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, But fear the main intendment of the Scot, 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, Girdling with grievous siege castles and towns; That England, being empty of defence, Hath shook and trembled at th’ ill neighbourhood.

CANTERBURY. She hath been then more fear’d 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 As is the ooze and bottom of the sea

With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.

WESTMORELAND. But there’s a saying, very old and true: ‘If that you will France win,

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.

EXETER. 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 consent, Congreeing in a full and natural close, Like music.

CANTERBURY. Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavour in continual motion; To which is fixed as an aim or but

Obedience; for so work the honey bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act 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, 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, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-ey’d 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 consent, may work contrariously; As many arrows loosed several ways

Come 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 many a thousand actions, once afoot, End in one purpose, and be all well home 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.

KING HENRY. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.

Exeunt some attendants Now are we well resolv’d; 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; or 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 mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, Not worshipp’d with a waxen epitaph.

 

Enter AMBASSADORS of France Now are we well prepar’d to know the pleasure Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear Your greeting is from him, not from the King.

AMBASSADOR. May’t please your Majesty to give us leave Freely to render what we have in charge; Or shall we sparingly show you far of The Dauphin’s meaning and our embassy?

KING HENRY. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king, Unto whose grace our passion is as subject As are our wretches fett’red in our prisons; Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness Tell us the Dauphin’s mind.

AMBASSADOR. Thus then, in few.

Your Highness, lately sending into France, Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.

In answer of which claim, the Prince our master Says that you savour too much of your youth, And bids you be advis’d 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, This tun 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 HENRY. What treasure, uncle?

EXETER. Tennis-balls, my liege.

KING HENRY. We are 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.

Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler That all the courts of France will be disturb’d With chaces. 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 valu’d this poor seat of England; And therefore, living hence, did give ourself To barbarous licence; 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 sail of greatness, When I do rouse me in my throne of France; For that 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 of their dear husbands; Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles 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 My rightful hand in a well-hallow’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.

Exeunt AMBASSADORS

EXETER. This was a merry message.

KING HENRY. We hope to make the sender blush at it.

Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour That may give furth’rance 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 ad 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. Exeunt

<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM

SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS

PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE

WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE

DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS

PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED

COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY

SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>

 

ACT II. PROLOGUE.

 

Flourish. Enter CHORUS

 

CHORUS. 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; 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, Promis’d to Harry and his followers.

The French, advis’d 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!-

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.

Linger your patience on, and we’ll digest Th’ abuse of distance, force a play.

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.

But, till the King come forth, and not till then, Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. Exit

SCENE I.

London. Before the Boar’s Head Tavern, Eastcheap Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH

 

BARDOLPH. Well met, Corporal Nym.

NYM. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

BARDOLPH. 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 smiles-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.

BARDOLPH. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we’ll be all