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 rak'd,
He sends you this most memorable line,
[Gives a paper.

In every branch truly demonstrative;
Willing you, overlook this pedigree:
And, when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his most fam'd 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:
And therefore in fierce 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
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 threat'ning, and my message;
Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,

To whom expressly I bring greeting too.

Fr. 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: and, 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 for it,

That caves and womby vaultages of France

*

Shall chide your trespass, and return your mock In second accent of his ordnance.

Dau. Say, if my father render fair reply,
It is against my will: for I desire

Nothing but odds with England; to that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity,

I did present him with those Paris balls.

Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe: And, be assus'd, 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; which you shall read
In your own losses, if he stay in France.

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

Exe. Despatch us with all speed, lest that our king

7

Come here himself to question our delay;
For he is footed in this land already.

Fr. King. You shall be soon despatch'd, with fair conditions: en la sta

A night is but small breath, and little pause,
To answer matters of this consequence.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter Chorus.

Cho. Thus with imagin'd wing 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

* Resound, echo.

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 confus'd: behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the 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 the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,

Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
Grapple your minds to sternage† of this navy;
And leave your England, as dead midnight, still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
Either past, or not arriv'd 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:
Behold the ordnance on their carriages,

With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur, Suppose, the ambassador from the French comes back;

Tells Harry-that the king doth offer him
Katharine his daughter; and with her, to dowry,
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.

The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
[Alarum: and chambers § go off.
And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind."

Bank or shore.

[Exit.

+ Sterns of the ships.

The staff which holds the match used in firing cannon.

§ Small pieces of ordnance.

SCENE I.

The same. Before Harfleur.

Alarums. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloster, and soldiers, with scaling-ladders.

K. Hen. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness, and humility:

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

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.

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 noblest English,
Whose blood is fett 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

* A mole to withstand the encroachment of the tide.

+ Worn, wasted.

Fetched.

§ Matter, subject.

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.

SCENE II.

The same.

Forces pass over; then enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.

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

Nym. '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.

Pist. The plain-song is most just; for humours
do abound;

Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,
In bloody field,

Doth win 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 with me,

My purpose should not fail with me,

But thither would I hie.

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