The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges K. Hen. If, duke of Burgundy, you would the peace Whose want gives growth to the 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, enschedul'd briefly, in your hands. Bur. The king hath heard them; to the which, as There is no answer made. [yet Well then, the peace, Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer. Fr. King. I have but with a cursorary eye O'er-glanc'd the articles: pleaseth your grace To appoint some of your council presently To sit with us once more, with better heed To re-survey them, we will, suddenly, Pass our accept, and peremptory answer. K. Hen. K. Hon. Brother, we shall.-Go, uncle Exeter, And brother Clarence,—and you, brother Gloster,Warwick, and Huntington,-go with the king: And take with you free power, to ratify, Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best Shall see advantageable 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. Isab. Our gracious brother, I will go with them; Haply, a woman's voice may do some good, When articles, too nicely urg'd, be stood on. K. Hen. Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with She is our capital demand, compris'd Within the fore rank of our articles. [us; Q. Isab. She hath good leave. [Ex. all but HENRY, KATH., & her Gentlewoman. K. Hen. Fair Katharine, 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? Kath. Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England. K. Hen. O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. like me, Kate? Kath. Pardonnex moy, I cannot tell vat is-like me. K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate; and you are like an angel. Do you Kath. Que dit-il? que je suis semblable à les anges? Alice. Ouy, vrayment, (sauf vostre grace) ainsi dit-il. K. Hen. I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it. Kath. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines des tromperies. | K. Hen. What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits? Alice. Ouy; dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess. K. Hen. The princess is the better English-woman. I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for my understanding: I am glad, thou can'st speak no better English; for, if thou couldst, thou would'st find me such a plain king, that thou would'st think, I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say—I love you: then, if you urge me farther 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? Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, me understand well. 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 strength in measure, 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, 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, and never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, 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 thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhymne themselves into ladies' favours,-they do always reason themselves out again, What! a speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps its course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me: And take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: And what sayest thou then to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee. Kath. Is it possible dat I should 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. Kath. 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'ay la possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi, (let me see, what then? Saint Dennis be my speed!) donc vostre est France, et vous estes mienne. 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. Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, le François que vous parlez, est meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle. Hen. No, al is't not, Kate: but thy speakag of my tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love me? Kath. 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 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 scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier breeder: Shall not thou and I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the beard? shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair flower-de luce? Kath. I do not know dat. K. Hen. No; 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavour for your French part of such a boy; and, for my English moiety, take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon tres chere et divine deesse? Kath. Your majesté 'ave fausse French enough to deceive de most sage damoiselle dat is en France. K. Hen. Now fye upon my false French! By mine honour, 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 untempering 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 aspect 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 Katharine, 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 thine: which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud-England is thine, Ireland is Aine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet 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, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English, Wilt thou have me? Kath. Dat is, as it shall please de roy mon pere. K. Hen. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate. Kath. Den it shall also content me. K. Hen. Upon that I will kiss your hand, and I call you-my queen. Kath. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez vostre grandeur, en baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure; excusez moy, je vous supplie, mon tres puissant seigneur. K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate. Kath. Les dames, et damoiselles, pour estre baisées devant leur nopces, il n'est pas le coutume de France. K. Hen. Madam my interpreter, what says she? Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of Alice. Your majesty entendre bettre que moy. K. Hen. It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say? Alice. Ouy, vrayment. : K. Hen. O Kate. nice customs curt'sy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places, stops the mouths of all findfaults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country, in denying me a kiss therefore, pa tiently and yielding. (Kissing her.] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence iz 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. Enter the French KING and QUEEN, BURGUNDY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER, WESTMORELAND, and other French and English Lords. 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: if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked, and blind: Can you blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to. K. Hen. Yet they do wink, and yield; as iove 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 consent to winking. Bur. I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well summered and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on. K. Hen. This moral ties me over to time, and a hot summer; and so I will 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 turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls, that war hath never entered. K. Hen. Shall Kate be my wife? Fr. King. 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 of my wish, shall shew me the way to my will. Fr. K. We have consented to all terms of reason K. Hen. Is't so, iny lords of England? West. The king hath granted every article: His daughter, first; and then, in sequel, all, According to their firm proposed natures. Ere. Only, he hath not yet subscribed this: Where your majesty demands,-That the king of France, having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form, and with this addition, in French,-Notre tres cher fils Henry roy d'Angleterre, heretier de France; and thus in Latin,-Præclarissimus filius noster Henricus, rex Anglia, et hæres Francia. Fr. King. Nor this I have not, brother, so denied, But your request shall make me let it pass. K. Hen. pray you then, in love and dear alliance, Let that one article rank with the rest: And, thereupon, give me your daughter. Fr. King. Take her, fair son; and from her blood Issue to me that the contending kingdoms [raise up Of France and England, whose very shores look pale With envy of each other's happiness, May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction This play has many scenes of high dignity, and many of easy merriment. The character of the king is well supported, except in his courtship, where he has neither the vivacity of Hal, nor the grandeur of Henry. The humour of Fistol is very happily continued his character has perhaps been the model of all the bullies that have yet appeared on the English stage. The lines given to the Chorus have many admirers; but the truth is, that in them a little may be praised, and much must be forgiven; nor can it be easily discovered why the intelligence given by the Chorus is more necessary in this play than in many others where it is omitted. The great defect of this So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal, K. Hen. Prepare we for our marriage ;-on which Enter Chorus. Thus far, with rough, and all unable pen, Our bending author hath pursu'd the story; In little room confining mighty men, Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. Small time, but, in that small, most greatly liv'd This star of England: fortune made his sword; By which the world's best garden he achiev'd, 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 shewn; and, for their sake In your fair minds let this acceptance take. [Exit. play is the emptiness and narrowness of the last act, which a very little diligence might have easily avoided-JOHNSON. Of the general conduct of this play it may be remarked, that the interest turns altogether upon the circumstances which accompany a single battle; consequently, the poet has put forth all his strength in colouring and contrasting the situation of the two armies; and so admirably has he succeeded in this attempt, by opposing the full assurance of victory on the part of the French, their boastful clamour and impatient levity, to the conscious danger, and calm valour, of the English, that we wait the issue of the combat with an almost breathless anxiety.-Dr. DRAKE. FIRST PART OF KING HENRY VI. Of this play there is no edition extant previous to the folio, 1623. It is a miserable production; and Malone has distinctly proved, in his ingenious and elaborate Essay on the three parts of King Henry VI, that it has been unjustly ascribed to the hand of Shakspeare. In the second and third parts of King Henry V1. the pen of our great poet is easily distinguished; but in the present play there is not a single passage marked with the characters of his genius. "It may be asked," says Malone, "if the drama was not written by Shakspeare, why did Heminge and Condell print it with the rest of his works! The only way I can PERSONS REPRESENTED. France. KING HENRY THE SIXTH. EARLS OF WARWICK, SALISBURY, and SUFFOLK. EDMUND MORTIMER, Earl of March. Sir WILLIAM GLANSDALE. Sir THOMAS GARGRAVE. account for their having done so, is by supposing, that they imagined the insertion of this historical drama was necessary to understanding the two pieces that follow it; or, that Shakspeare, for the advantage of his own theatre, having written a few lines in the first part of King Henry VI. after nis own second and third parts had been played, they conceived this a sufficient warrant for attributing it, along with the others to him, in the general collection of his works." The historical transactions contained in this play, take in th compass of about thirty years. WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower. VERNON, of the White Rose, or York faction. ACT 1. SCENE I.-Westminster Abbey. His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: [blood? Exe. We mourn in black; Why mourn we not in Henry is dead, and never shall revive : Upon a wooden coffin we attend ; And death's dishonourable victory We with our stately presence glorify, Like captives bound to a triumphant car. What? shall we curse the planets of mishap, That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? Or shall we think tae subtle-witted French Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him, By magic verses have contriv'd his end? Win. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. Unto the French the dreadful judgment day So dreadful will not be, as was his sight. The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: The church's prayers made him so prosperous. Glo. The church! where is it? Had not churchmen His thread of life had not so soon decay'd; [pray'd, None do you like but an effeminate prince, Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. Win. Gloster, whate'er we like, thou art protector; And lookest to command the prince, and realm. Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, More than God, or religious churchmen, may. Glo. Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh; And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st, Except it be to pray against thy foes. [peace! When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck; Enter a Messenger. Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all! Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture: Guienne, Champaigne, Rheims, Orleans, Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. [corse? Bed. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's. Speak softly; or the loss of those great towns One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost, Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot; Exe. Wore our tears wanting to this funeral, Bed. Me they concern; regent I am of France:Give me my steeled coat, I'll fight for France.Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! Wounds I will lend the French, instead of eyes, To weep their intermissive miseries. Enter another Messenger. Mess. Lords, view these letters, full of bad misFrance is revolted from the English quite; [chance, Except some petty towns of no import: The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims ; The bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; Reignier, duke of Anjou, doth take his part; The duke of Alençon flieth to his side. Exe. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? Glo. We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats:Bedford, if thou be slack, I'H fight it out. Bed. Gloster, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness! An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is over-run. Enter a third Messenger. 3 Mess. My gracious lords, to add to your laments, Wherewith you now bedew king Henry's hearse,I must inform you of a dismal fight, Betwixt the stout lord Talbot and the French. Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? 3 Mess. O, no; wherein lord Talbot was o'erthrown: The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. The tenth of August last, this dreadful lord, Retiring from the siege of Orleans, Having scarce six thousand in his troop, By three and twenty thousand of the French Was round encompassed and set upon : No leisure had he to enrank his men ; He wanted pikes to set before his archers; Instead whereof, sharp stakes, pluck'd out of hedges, They pitched in the ground confusedly, To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. More than three hours the fight continued; Where valiant Talbot, above human thought, Enacted wonders with his sword and lance. Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; Here, there, and every where, enrag'd he slew: The French exclaim'd, The devil was in arms; All the whole army stood agaz'd on him: His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit, A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain, And rush'd into the bowels of the battle, Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, If sir John Falstolfe had not play'd the coward; Bed. Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, 3 Mess. O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, And lord Scales with him, and lord Hungerford: Most of the rest slaughter'd, or took, likewise. Bed. His ransome there is none but I shall pay · I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne, His crown shall be the ransome of my friend; Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: Ten thousand soldiers with me will I take, Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. 3 Mess. So you had need; for Orleans is besieg'd; The English army is grown weak and faint: The earl of Salisbury craveth supply, And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. Exe. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn; Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. Bed. I do remember it; and here take leave, To go about my preparation. [Exit. Glo. I'll to the Tower, with all the haste I can, To view the artillery and munition; And then I will proclaim young Henry King. [Erit. Exe. To Eltham will I, where the young king is, Being ordain'd his special governor ; And for his safety there I'll best devise. Win. Each hath his place and function to attend: I am left out; for me nothing remains. But long I will not be Jack-out-of-office; The king from Eltham I intend to send, And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. [Exit. [Exit. Scene closes. SCENE II.-France. Before Orleans. Char. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens, [beeves: Alen. They want their porridge, and their fat bullEither they must be dieted like mules, And have their provender tyed to their mouths, Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. Reig. Let's raise the siege; Why live we idly here? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: Remaineth none, but mad-brain'd Salisbury; And he may well in fretting spend his gall, Nor men, nor money, hath he to make war. Char. Sound, sound alarum; we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorn French : |Him I forgive my death, that killeth me, When he sees me go back one foot, or fly. [Exeunt. Alarums; Excursions; afterwards a Retreat. Reig. Salisbury is a desperate homicide; Alen. Froissard, a countryman of ours, records, For none but Samsons, and Goliasses, [slaves, Enter the Bastard of Orleans. Bast. Where's the prince Dauphin? I have news for him. Char. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? Enter LA PUCELLE, Bastard of Orleans, and others. Reig. Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wond'rous feats? Puc. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? Where is the Dauphin ?-come, come from behind, I know thee well, though never seen before. Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me: In private will I talk with thee apart ;Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash. Puc. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter My wit untrain'd in any kind of art, Heaven, and our Lady gracious, hath it pleas'd To shine on my contemptible estate : Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, God's mother deigned to appear to me : And, in a vision full of majesty, Will'd me to leave ny base vocation, |