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 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,
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.

K. Hen. What treasure, uncle?

Exe. Tennis-balls, my liege.

K. Hen. 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 valued this poor seat of England;
And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
To barbarous licence; As 'tís 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 out 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,

* A dance.

+ A place in the tennis-court into which the ball is sometimes struck. At tennis, the spot where a ball falls, beyond which the adversary must strike his ball to gain a point.

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.

Exe. This was a merry message.

K. Hen. We hope to make the sender blush at it. [Descends from his Throne,

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.

ACT II.

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 :
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!)

* Gelt, money.

[Exeunt.

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 well digest
The abuse of distance, while we 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-The same. Eastcheap.

Enter NYM and BARDOLPH.

Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.
Nym. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph.
Bard. What, are ancient Pistol and you frienas 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 the humour of it.

Bard. I will bestow a breakfast, to make you friends; and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France; let it be so, good corporal Nym.

Nym. 'Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I will do 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 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.

+ Resolution.

Enter PISTOL and Mrs. QUICKLY.

Bard. Here comes ancient Pistol, and his wife :-good corporal, be patient here.-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.

*I.e. by compressing events.

+ Clown.

Quick. 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 bawdyhouse straight. [NYM draws his sword.] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! O Lord! here's corporal Nym's-now shall we have wilful adultery and murder committed. Good lieutenant Bardolph,-good corporal, offer nothing here. Nym. Pish!

Pist. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prickeared cur of Iceland!

Quick. Good corporal Nym, show the valour of a man, and put up thy sword.

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

[Sheathing his sword.

Pist. 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;t you cannot conjure me. I have a 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 your guts a little, in good terms, as I may; and that's the humour of it.

Pist. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight! The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; Therefore exhale.

[PISTOL and NYм draw.

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.

Pist. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
Thy spirits are most tall.

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

Pist. Coup le gorge, that's the word ?-I thee defy again.
O hound of Crete,§ think'st thou my spouse to get?
No: to the 'spital go,

And from the powdering tub of infamy.
Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
Doll Tear-sheet she by name, and her espouse:
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
For the only she; and-Pauca, there's enough.

*Par Dieu !

+ Breathe your last.

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,

The name of a demon.
Blood-hound.

put thy nose between his sheets, and do the office of a warmingpan: 'faith he's very ill.

Bard. Away, you rogue.

Quick. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these days: the king has kill'd his heart.-Good husband, come home presently. [Exeunt Mrs. QUICKLY and 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?

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

Nym. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? Pist. Base is the slave that pays.

Nym. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.
Pist. As manhood shall compound; Push home.

Bard. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will.

Pist. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. Bard. Corporal Nym, and thou wilt be friends, be friends: an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prythee, put up.

Nym. I shall have my eight shillings, I won of you at betting. Pist. 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.

Nym. I shall have my noble?
Pist. In cash most justly paid.

Nym. Well then, that's the humour of it.

Re-enter Mrs. QUICKLY.

Quick. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John: Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, 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.

Nym. 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Southampton. A council-chamber.

Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND. Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. Exe. They shall be apprehended by-and-by.

A coin, in value six shillings and eight pence.