Suppose within the Girdle of these Walls

Are now confin’d two mightie Monarchies,

Whose high, vp-reared, and abutting Fronts,

The perillous narrow Ocean parts asunder.

Peece out our imperfections with your thoughts:

Into a thousand parts diuide one Man,

And make imaginarie Puissance.

Thinke when we talke of Horses, that you see them

Printing their prowd Hoofes i’th’ receiuing Earth:

For ‘tis your thoughts that now must deck our Kings,

Carry them here and there: Jumping o’re Times;

Turning th’accomplishment of many yeeres

Into an Howre-glasse: for the which supplie

Admit me Chorus to this Historie;

Who Prologue-like, your humble patience pray,

Gently to heare, kindly to iudge our Play.




For all the Temporall Lands, which men deuout

By Testament haue giuen to the Church,

Would they strip from vs; being valu’d thus,

As much as would maintaine, to the Kings honor,

Full 15 Earles, and 1,500 Knights,

6,200 good Esquires:

And to reliefe of Lazars, and weake age

Of indigent faint Soules, past corporall toyle,

100 Almes-houses, right well supply’d:

And to the Coffers of the King beside,

1,000 pounds by th’yeere Thus runs the Bill.”


This would drinke deepe.


Twould drinke the Cup and all.”

Bish. Cant.

The King is full of grace, and faire regard.

Bish. Ely.

And a true louer of the holy Church.

Bish. Cant.

The courses of his youth promis’d it not.

The breath no sooner left his Fathers body,

But that his wildnesse, mortify’d in him,

Seem’d to dye too: yea, at that very moment,

Consideration like an Angell came,

And whipt th’offending Adam out of him;

Leauing his body as a Paradise,

T’inuelop and containe Celestiall Spirits.

Neuer was such a sodaine Scholler made:

Neuer came Reformation in a Flood,

With such a heady currance scowring faults:

Nor neuer Hidra-headed Wilfulnesse

So soone did loose his Seat; and all at once;

As in this King.

Bish. Ely.

We are blessed in the Change.”

Heare him debate of Common-wealth Affaires;

You would say, it hath been all in all his study:

List his discourse of Warre; and you shall heare

A fearefull Battaile rendred you in Musique.

Turne him to any Cause of Pollicy,

The Gordian Knot of it he will vnloose,

Familiar as his Garter: that when he speakes,

The Ayre, a Charter’d Libertine, is still,

And the mute Wonder lurketh in mens eares,

To steale his sweet and honyed Sentences:

So that the Art and Practique part of Life,

Must be the Mistresse to this Theorique.

Which is a wonder how his Grace should gleane it,

Since his addiction was to Courses vaine,

His Companies vnletter’d, rude, and shallow,

His Houres fill’d vp with Ryots, Banquets, Sports;

And neuer noted in him any studie,

Any retyrement, any sequestration,

From open Haunts and Popularitie.”


Uma maçã podre arruína um cesto inteiro, é verdade;

Mas um morango de boa safra salva uma colheita mediana.

B. Ely.

But my good Lord:

How now for mittigation of this Bill,

Vrg’d by the Commons? doth his Maiestie

Incline to it, or no?

B. Cant.

He seemes indifferent:

Or rather swaying more vpon our part,

Then cherishing th’exhibiters against vs:

For I haue made an offer to his Maiestie,

Vpon our Spirituall Conuocation,

And in regard of Causes now in hand,

Which I haue open’d to his Grace at large,

As touching France, to giue a greater Summe,

Then euer at one time the Clergie yet

Did to his Predecessors part withall.”

Belly & Bee Kant


My learned Lord, we pray you to proceed,

And iustly and religiously vnfold,

Why the Law Salike, that they haue in France,

Or should or should not barre vs in our Clayme:

And God forbid, my deare and faithfull Lord,

That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,

Or nicely charge your vnderstanding Soule,

With opening Titles miscreate, whose right

Sutes not in natiue colours with the truth:

For God doth know, how many now in health,

Shall drop their blood, in approbation

Of what your reuerence shall incite vs to.

Therefore take heed how you impawne our Person,

How you awake our sleeping Sword of Warre;

We charge you in the Name of God take heed:

For neuer two such Kingdomes did contend,

Without much fall of blood, whose guiltlesse drops

Are euery one, a Woe, a sore Complaint,

Gainst him, whose wrongs giues edge vnto the Swords,

That makes such waste in briefe mortalitie.

Vnder this Coniuration, speake my Lord:

For we will heare, note, and beleeue in heart,

That what you speake, is in your Conscience washt,

As pure as sinne with Baptisme.”

HENRIQUE QUINTO DA INGLATERRA: Meu sábio conselheiro, insto-o a prosseguir em nossos intentos, doravante, ao lado da justiça e da religião, se for mesmo nosso direito. Rogo que me explique por que a Lei Sálica, que é seguida em França, não obstaria essa demanda (e Deus proíba, meu amado e honesto soberano, que você incorra em erros de interpretação das palavras inscritas e acabe por levar-nos ao cometimento de atos ilícitos e injustos neste tocante): Deus sabe, meu leal conselheiro, quantos agora em tranqüilidade e segurança deverão derramar seu sangue em decorrência de um incitamento de um douto do Estado, e da simples ordem decorrente que eu, seu Rei, hei de emanar. Desta feita, o máximo cuidado para decidir como vai dar seu parecer, e na forma como ressuscitará ou não a Espada dormente de nosso império. Em nome de Deus, esta é uma enorme responsabilidade a se suportar; lembre-se que dois reinos dessa magnitude nunca se conflagraram sem muitas baixas de ambos os lados, e cada gota de sangue inocente derramada, saiba, é um verdadeiro testemunho contra aquele que deu as ordens e afiou as lâminas e deixou em polvorosa os canhões, pois que incorreu em grave erro, ao se lançar não tendo causa divina e justa; a mortandade de homens, de súditos a quem devemos proteção, é o maior desperdício que existe. Provocado por essa minha exortação, destarte, exijo seu ponderado pronunciamento. Não posso senão escutar, julgar e acreditar piamente no que disser. Nenhuma dúvida pairará em meu peito sobre o caráter consciencioso de sua recomendação final, emitida de forma tão imaculada quanto se torna o cristão logo após o Batismo que o absolve de haver nascido como pecador contra a carne.”

There is no barre

To make against your Highnesse Clayme to France,

But this which they produce from Pharamond,

In terram Salicam Mulieres ne succedaul,

No Woman shall succeed in Salike Land:

Which Salike Land, the French vniustly gloze

To be the Realme of France, and Pharamond

The founder of this Law, and Female Barre.

Yet their owne Authors faithfully affirme,

That the Land Salike is in Germanie,

Betweene the Flouds of Sala and of Elue:

Where Charles the Great hauing subdu’d the Saxons,

There left behind and settled certaine French:

Who holding in disdaine the German Women,

For some dishonest manners of their life,

Establisht then this Law; to wit, No Female

Should be Inheritrix in Salike Land:

Which Salike (as I said) ‘twixt Elue and Sala,

Is at this day in Germanie, call’d Meisen.

Then doth it well appeare, the Salike Law

Was not deuised for the Realme of France:

Nor did the French possesse the Salike Land,

Vntill 421 yeeres

After defunction of King Pharamond,

Idly suppos’d the founder of this Law,

Who died within the yeere of our Redemption,

426: and Charles the Great

Subdu’d the Saxons, and did seat the French

Beyond the Riuer Sala, in the yeere

805. Besides, their Writers say,

King Pepin, which deposed Childerike,

Did as Heire Generall, being descended

Of Blithild, which was Daughter to King Clothair,

Make Clayme and Title to the Crowne of France.

Hugh Capet also, who vsurpt the Crowne

Of Charles the Duke of Loraine, sole Heire male

Of the true Line and Stock of Charles the Great:

To find his Title with some shewes of truth,

Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught,

Conuey’d himselfe as th’Heire to th’ Lady Lingare,

Daughter to Charlemaine, who was the Sonne

To Lewes the Emperour, and Lewes the Sonne

Of Charles the Great: also King Lewes the Tenth,

Who was sole Heire to the Vsurper Capet,

Could not keepe quiet in his conscience,

Wearing the Crowne of France, ‘till satisfied,

That faire Queene Isabel, his Grandmother,

Was Lineall of the Lady Ermengare,

Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Loraine:

By the which Marriage, the Lyne of Charles the Great

Was re-vnited to the Crowne of France.

So, that as cleare as is the Summers Sunne,

King Pepins Title, and Hugh Capets Clayme,

King Lewes his satisfaction, all appeare

To hold in Right and Title of the Female:

So doe the Kings of France vnto this day.

Howbeit, they would hold vp this Salique Law,

To barre your Highnesse clayming from the Female,

And rather chuse to hide them in a Net,

Then amply to imbarre their crooked Titles,

Vsurpt from you and your Progenitors.


May I with right and conscience make this claim?

Bish. Cant.

The sinne vpon my head, dread Soueraigne:

For in the Booke of Numbers is it writ,

When the man dyes, let the Inheritance

Descend vnto the Daughter. Gracious Lord,

Stand for your owne, vnwind your bloody Flagge,

Looke back into your mightie Ancestors:

Goe my dread Lord, to your great Grandsires Tombe,

From whom you clayme; inuoke his Warlike Spirit,

And your Great Vnckles, Edward the Black Prince,

Who on the French ground play’d a Tragedie,

Making defeat on the full Power of France:

Whiles his most mightie Father on a Hill

Stood smiling, to behold his Lyons Whelpe

Forrage in blood of French Nobilitie.

O Noble English, that could entertaine

With halfe their Forces, the full pride of France,

And let another halfe stand laughing by,

All out of worke, and cold for action.


Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,

And with your puissant Arme renew their Feats;

You are their Heire, you sit vpon their Throne:

The Blood and Courage that renowned them,

Runs in your Veines: and my thrice-puissant Liege

Is in the very May-Morne of his Youth,

Ripe for Exploits and mightie Enterprises.


Your Brother Kings and Monarchs of the Earth

Doe all expect, that you should rowse your selfe,

As did the former Lyons of your Blood.


They know your Grace hath cause, and means, and might;

So hath your Highnesse: neuer King of England

Had Nobles richer, and more loyall Subiects,

Whose hearts haue left their bodyes here in England,

And lye pauillion’d in the fields of France.”

CONSELHEIRO, O BISPO DE CANTERBURY: Não há qualquer impedimento à reivindicação de Vossa Majestade ao trono da França, uma vez que Vossa Majestade é varão; porque a eficácia da reivindicação na terra de Faramondo não se estende in terram Salicam Mulieres – sob a lei sálica, a mulher não herda a Coroa, mas seu marido sim. Desde que Faramondo supostamente teria instituído a lei sálica, embora em seu texto os seus fundadores clamem que a terra sálica é a Germânia, o reino entre os rios Sala e Elba, nisto constituiria a verdade. Vossa Majestade deve acompanhar meu longo fio de raciocínio e minhas ilustrações a fim de compreender: Carlos o Grande ali derrotou os saxões, onde fê-los coabitar submissamente com alguns dos seus. Estes francos, desdenhando as mulheres germânicas, que tinham reputação de prostitutas, estabeleceram este artigo da Lei: nenhuma fêmea deverá herdar nenhuma terra ou bem sálico. Como eu insinuei, Vossa Majestade, isto se aplicaria somente ao território de Sala a Elba, que hoje são a Germânia, na verdade atual Meisen. Irá parecer que a lei sálica não se aplica ao reino francês; assim o seria por um extenso período, é verdade, e os francos por 421 anos após a morte de Faramondo de fato não adotaram este ordenamento. O Rei Faramondo morreu no ano 426 do nosso Salvador, mas é falso que tenha sido o autor da lei sálica, como muitos acreditam. E, como eu disse, Carlos o Grande derrotou os saxões e alojou francos para além do rio Sala, em 805. O Rei Pepino – filho de Blitilda, filha de Clotário –, que depôs Childerico do trono, reclamou o reino da França para si. Hugo Capeto também o fez, e ele com efeito usurpou a Coroa de Carlos Duque de Lorena, então único varão na linha sucessória ligada ao sangue-azul de Carlos o Grande. Como o fez? Para justificar seu direito à sucessão, embora sua pretensão fosse farisaica e bastarda, Hugo Capeto se casara e se proclamara <herdeiro pela Senhora Lingária, Filha de Carlos Magno>, este por sua vez legítimo filho de Luís. Luís fôra filho de Carlos o Grande. Aí tens o fundador da dinastia. E também Luís X, outro Capeto, único varão de seu tempo elegível para a Coroa: este monarca alegara ser descendente da Coroa por sua avó, a rainha Isabel de Ermengária, filha do citado Carlos Duque de Lorena. Exemplos não faltam, Vossa Majestade. Quando Carlos se casou reunificara a Coroa da linhagem de Carlos o Grande. Portanto, Vossa Majestade, declaro tão claro quanto o sol do verão: o título do Rei Pepino, e a reivindicação de Hugo Capeto, e a nobreza do Rei Luís, todos foram fundados única e exclusivamente sobre a descendência de uma mulher: e assim o é com o Rei de França que agora reina. Como haveriam então de usar a lei sálica de objeção e argumento contra sua justíssima reivindicação, e alegando que uma fêmea não pode herdar a Coroa, Vossa Majestade?! Sim, porque eles negam e dissimulam cegueira diante da própria História! Ou, antes, declaram apenas a meia-verdade que lhes interessa: que a mulher realmente não governa – pois isto não é de relevo e nada temos com isso. O que interessa considerar é que o varão do casamento sim governa, e Vossa Majestade pedirá a mão de uma aristocrata e entrará para a linhagem, como é devido! Eles usurparam o título de Vosssa Majestade através desses arranjos mesquinhos, bem como usurparam o título dos progenitores de Vossa Majestade no passado – a Coroa voltará para sua casa, será apenas uma restituição!


We must not onely arme t’inuade the French,

But lay downe our proportions, to defend

Against the Scot, who will make roade vpon vs,

With all aduantages.

Bish. Can.

They of those Marches, gracious Soueraign,

Shall be a Wall sufficient to defend

Our in-land from the pilfering Borderers.


We do not meane the coursing snatchers onely,

But feare the maine intendment of the Scot,

Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to vs:

For you shall reade, that my great Grandfather

Neuer went with his forces into France,

But that the Scot, on his vnfurnisht Kingdome,

Came pouring like the Tyde into a breach,

With ample and brim fulnesse of his force,

Galling the gleaned Land with hot Assayes,

Girding with grieuous siege, Castles and Townes:

That England being emptie of defence,

Hath shooke and trembled at th’ill neighbourhood.

Bish. Ely.

But there’s a saying very old and true,

If that you will France win, then with Scotland first begim.

For once the Eagle (England) being in prey,

To her vnguarded Nest, the Weazell (Scot)

Comes sneaking, and so sucks her Princely Egges,

Playing the Mouse in absence of the Cat,

To tame and hauocke more then she can eate.


It followes then, the Cat must stay at home,

Yet that is but a crush’d necessity,

Since we haue lockes to safegard necessaries,

And pretty traps to catch the petty theeues.

While that the Armed hand doth fight abroad,

Th’aduised head defends it selfe at home:

For Gouernment, though high, and low, and lower,

Put into parts, doth keepe in one consent,

Congreeing in a full and natural close,

Like Musicke.


Therefore doth heauen diuide

The state of man in diuers functions,

Setting endeuour in continual motion:

To which is fixed as an ayme or but,

Obedience: for so worke the Hony Bees,

Creatures that by a rule in Nature teach

The Act of Order to a peopled Kingdome.

They haue a King, and Officers of sorts,

Where some like Magistrates correct at home:

Others, like Merchants venter Trade abroad:

Others, like Souldiers armed in their stings,

Make boote vpon the Summers Veluet buddes:

Which pillage, they with merry march bring home:

To the Tent-royal of their Emperor:

Who busied in his Maiesties surueyes

The singing Masons building roofes of Gold,

The ciuil Citizens kneading vp the hony;

The poore Mechanicke Porters, crowding in

Their heauy burthens at his narrow gate:

The sad-ey’d Iustice with his surly humme,

Deliuering ore to Executors pale

The lazie yawning Drone: I this inferre,

That many things hauing full reference

To one consent, may worke contrariously,

As many Arrowes loosed seuerall wayes

Come to one marke: as many wayes meet in one towne,

As many fresh streames meet in one salt sea;

As many Lynes close in the Dials center:

So may a thousand actions once a foote,

And in one purpose, and be all well borne

Without defeat. Therefore to France, my Liege,

Diuide your happy England into foure,

Whereof, take you one quarter into France,

And you withall shall make all Gallia shake.

If we with thrice such powers left at home,

Cannot defend our owne doores from the dogge,

Let vs be worried, and our Nation lose

The name of hardinesse and policie.


Call in the Messengers sent from the Dolphin.

Now are we well resolu’d, and by Gods helpe

And yours, the noble sinewes of our power,

France being ours, wee’l bend it to our Awe,

Or breake it all to peeces. Or there wee’l sit,

(Ruling in large and ample Emperie,

Ore France, and all her (almost) Kingly Dukedomes)

Or lay these bones in an vnworthy Vrne,

Tomblesse, with no remembrance ouer them:

Either our History shall with full mouth

Speake freely of our Acts, or else our graue

Like Turkish mute, shall haue a tonguelesse mouth,

Not worshipt with a waxen Epitaph.

Enter Ambassadors of France.

Now are we well prepar’d to know the pleasure

Of our faire Cosin Dolphin: for we heare,

Your greeting is from him, not from the King.”

TOCAM AS TROMBETAS NA EUROPA: Os membros espalhados ao corpo tornam!


Como a música, que é unidade, com vários acordes e melodias coordenados, parecendo agir sós mas no final submetidos à vontade do maestro, é a Inglaterra um corpo dirigido pelo soberano, a cabeça, e sua vasta extensão e robustez, todos os seus membros, façam isso ou façam aquilo, respondem a sua maneira ao principal desígnio: este corpo se lança com ímpeto coordenado e unívoco sobre a França e seus múltiplos ducados, destroçando-a e devorando-a. Ou isso, ou seremos um grande cadáver tombado, sem urna, sem filhos, sem memória, mas sem arrependimentos. Porque ou nossos Cronistas hão de contar um dia, com força nos pulmões, sobre nossos atos heróicos de agora ou os ingleses terão sido como o turco que é ladrão: boca sem língua, sem poeta ou poesia. E se é verdade que os escoceses quererão se aproveitar de nossa guerra e tumulto na Gália, que um quarto de nossas forças – mais que o bastante! – seja alocada para esmagar os franceses e fazer seu território tremer, como o murro vigoroso sobre a mesa faz vibrar todas as cartas do baralho. E os outros três quartos fiquem aqui, para proteger a porta de casa, contra este cão valente que ladra, o cão Escócia. Será assim? Por que o dono estica um braço para fora de seus muros, o mascote da casa se sentirá o dono de seu jardim, quando ainda tem de lidar com as pernas e o outro braço, o tronco e a cabeça do seu senhor? Terminará enxotado para sua casinha, sem osso que roer!”

Your Highnesse lately sending into France,

Did claime some certaine Dukedomes, in the right

Of your great Predecessor, King Edward the third.

In answer of which claime, the Prince our Master

Sayes, that you sauour too much of your youth,

And bids you be aduis’d: There’s nought in France,

That can be with a nimble Galliard wonne:

You cannot reuell into Dukedomes there.

He therefore sends you meeter for your spirit

This Tun of Treasure; and in lieu of this,

Desires you let the dukedomes that you claime

Heare no more of you. This the Dolphin speakes.


What Treasure Vncle?


Tennis balles, my Liege.


We are glad the Dolphin is so pleasant with vs,

His Present, and your paines we thanke you for:

When we haue matcht our Rackets to these Balles,

We will in France (by Gods grace) play a set,

Shall strike his fathers Crowne 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 vnderstand him well,

How he comes o’re vs with our wilder dayes,

Not measuring what vse we made of them.

We neuer valew’d this poore seate of England,

And therefore liuing hence, did giue our selfe

To barbarous license: As ‘tis euer common,

That men are merriest, when they are from home.

But tell the Dolphin, I will keepe my State,

Be like a King, and shew my sayle of Greatnesse,

When I do rowse me in my Throne of France.

For that I haue layd by my Maiestie,

And plodded like a man for working dayes:

But I will rise there with so full a glorie,

That I will dazle all the eyes of France,

Yea strike the Dolphin blinde to looke on vs,

And tell the pleasant Prince, this Mocke of his

Hath turn’d his balles to Gun-stones, and his soule

Shall stand sore charged, for the wastefull vengeance

That shall flye with them: for many a thousand widows

Shall this his Mocke, mocke out of their deer hvsbands;

Mocke mothers from their sonnes, mock Castles downe:

And some are yet vngotten and vnborne,

That shal haue cause to curse the Dolphins scorne.

But this lyes all within the wil of God,

To whom I do appeale, and in whose name

Tel you the Dolphin, I am comming on,

To venge me as I may, and to put forth

My rightfull hand in a wel-hallow’d cause.

So get you hence in peace: And tell the Dolphin,

His Iest will sauour but of shallow wit,

When thousands weepe more then did laugh at it.

Conuey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.

Exeunt Ambassadors.

let our proportions for these Warres

Be soone collected, and all things thought vpon,

That may with reasonable swiftnesse adde

More Feathers to our Wings: for God before,

Wee’le chide this Dolphin at his fathers doore.

Therefore let euery man now taske his thought,

That this faire Action may on foot be brought.


Anexo da obra: o mundo.




O England: Modell to thy inward Greatnesse,

Like little Body with a mightie Heart:

What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do,

Were all thy children kinde and naturall:

But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out,

A nest of hollow bosomes, which he filles

With treacherous Crownes, and three corrupted men:

One, Richard Earle of Cambridge, and the second

Henry Lord Scroope of Masham, and the third

Sir Thomas Grey Knight of Northumberland,

Haue for the Gilt of France (O guilt indeed)

Confirm’d Conspiracy with fearefull France,

And by their hands, this grace of Kings must dye.

If Hell and Treason hold their promises,

Ere he take ship for France; and in Southampton.

Linger your patience on, and wee’l digest

Th’abuse of distance; force a play:

The summe is payde, the Traitors are agreed,

The King is set from London, and the Scene

Is now transported (Gentles) to Southampton,

There is the Play-house now, there must you sit,

And thence to France shall we conuey you safe,

And bring you backe: Charming the narrow seas

To giue you gentle Passe: for if we may,

Wee’l not offend one stomacke with our Play.

But till the King come forth, and not till then,

Vnto Southampton do we shift our Scene.



I will bestow a breakfast to make you friendes,

and wee’l bee all three sworne brothers to France: Let’t

be so good Corporall Nym.

Corporall Nym.

Faith, I will liue so long as I may, that’s the certaine

of it: and when I cannot liue any longer, I will doe

as I may: That is my rest, that is the rendeuous of it.


It is certaine Corporall, that he is marryed to

Nell Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you

were troth-plight to her.”




Pish for thee, Island dogge: thou prickeard cur

of Island.”


Will you shogge off? I would haue you solus.


Solus, egregious dog? O Viper vile; The solus

in thy most meruailous face, the solus in thy teeth, and

in thy throate, and in thy hatefull Lungs, yea in thy Maw

perdy; and which is worse, within thy nastie mouth. I

do retort the solus in thy bowels, for I can take, and Pistols

cocke is vp, and flashing fire will follow.”

O hound of Creet, think’st thou my spouse to get? No, to the spittle goe, and from the Poudring tub of infamy, fetch forth the Lazar Kite of Cressids kinde, Doll Teare-sheete, she by name, and her espouse. I haue, and I will hold the Quondam Quickely for the onely shee: and Pauca, there’s enough to go to.”

Sobre Falstaff:


By my troth he’l yeeld the Crow a pudding one

of these dayes: the King has kild his heart. Good Husband

come home presently.”


Come, shall I make you two friends. Wee must

to France together: why the diuel should we keep kniues

to cut one anothers throats?


Let floods ore-swell, and fiends for food howle on.


You’l pay me the 8 shillings I won of you

at Betting?


Base is the Slaue that payes.


That now I wil haue: that’s the humor of it.


As manhood shal compound: push home.



By this sword, hee that makes the first thrust,

Ile kill him: By this sword, I wil.


Sword is an Oath, & Oaths must haue their course


Corporall Nym, & thou wilt be friends be frends,

and thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me to: prethee

put vp.


A Noble shalt thou haue, and present pay, and

Liquor likewise will I giue to thee, and friendshippe

shall combyne, and brotherhood. Ile liue by Nymme, &

Nymme shall liue by me, is not this iust? For I shal Sutler

be vnto the Campe, and profits will accrue. Giue mee

thy hand.”


As euer you come of women, come in quickly

to sir Iohn: A poore heart, hee is so shak’d of a burning

quotidian Tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold.

Sweet men, come to him.


The King hath run bad humors on the Knight,

that’s the euen of it.


Nym, thou hast spoke the right, his heart is fracted

and corroborate.


The King is a good King, but it must bee as it

may: he passes some humors, and carreeres.”

Enter Exeter, Bedford, & Westmerland.


Fore God his Grace is bold to trust these traitors


They shall be apprehended by and by.


How smooth and euen they do bear themselues,

As if allegeance in their bosomes sate

Crowned with faith, and constant loyalty.


The King hath note of all that they intend,

By interception, which they dreame not of.


Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,

Whom he hath dull’d and cloy’d with gracious fauours;

That he should for a forraigne purse, so sell

His Soueraignes life to death and treachery.

Sound Trumpets.

Enter the King, Scroope, Cambridge, and Gray.


Now sits the winde faire, and we will aboord.

My Lord of Cambridge, and my kinde Lord of Masham,

And you my gentle Knight, giue me your thoughts:

Thinke you not that the powres we beare with vs

Will cut their passage through the force of France?

Doing the execution, and the acte,

For which we haue in head assembled them.


No doubt my Liege, if each man do his best.


I doubt not that, since we are well perswaded

We carry not a heart with vs from hence,

That growes not in a faire consent with ours:

Nor leaue not one behinde, that doth not wish

Successe and Conquest to attend on vs.


Neuer was Monarch better fear’d and lou’d,

Then is your Maiesty; there’s not I thinke a subiect

That sits in heart-greefe and vneasinesse

Vnder the sweet shade of your gouernment.


True: those that were your Fathers enemies,

Haue steep’d their gauls in hony, and do serue you

With hearts create of duty, and of zeale.


We therefore haue great cause of thankfulnes,

And shall forget the office of our hand

Sooner then quittance of desert and merit,

According to the weight and worthinesse.


So seruice shall with steeled sinewes toyle,

And labour shall refresh it selfe with hope

To do your Grace incessant seruices.


We Iudge no lesse. Vnkle of Exeter,

Inlarge the man committed yesterday,

That rayl’d against our person: We consider

It was excesse of Wine that set him on,

And on his more aduice, We pardon him.


That’s mercy, but too much security:

Let him be punish’d Soueraigne, least example

Breed (by his sufferance) more of such a kind.


O let vs yet be mercifull.


So may your Highnesse, and yet punish too.


Sir, you shew great mercy if you giue him life,

After the taste of much correction.


Alas, your too much loue and care of me,

Are heauy Orisons ‘gainst this poore wretch:

If little faults proceeding on distemper,

Shall not be wink’d at, how shall we stretch our eye

When capitall crimes, chew’d, swallow’d, and digested,

Appeare before vs? Wee’l yet inlarge that man,

Though Cambridge, Scroope, and Gray, in their deere care

And tender preseruation of our person

Wold haue him punish’d. And now to our French causes,

Who are the late Commissioners?”


Then Richard Earle of Cambridge, there is yours:

There yours Lord Scroope of Masham, and Sir Knight:

Gray of Northumberland, this same is yours:

Reade them, and know I know your worthinesse.

My Lord of Westmerland, and Vnkle Exeter,

We will aboord to night. Why how now Gentlemen?

What see you in those papers, that you loose

So much complexion? Looke ye how they change:

Their cheekes are paper. Why, what reade you there,

That haue so cowarded and chac’d your blood

Out of apparance.


I do confesse my fault,

And do submit me to your Highnesse mercy.

Gray. Scro.

To which we all appeale.


The mercy that was quicke in vs but late,

By your owne counsaile is supprest and kill’d:

You must not dare (for shame) to talke of mercy,

For your owne reasons turne into your bosomes,

As dogs vpon their maisters, worrying you:

See you my Princes, and my Noble Peeres,

These English monsters: My Lord of Cambridge heere,

You know how apt our loue was, to accord

To furnish with all appertinents

Belonging to his Honour; and this man,

Hath for a few light Crownes, lightly conspir’d

And sworne vnto the practises of France.

To kill vs heere in Hampton. To the which,

This Knight no lesse for bounty bound to Vs

Then Cambridge is, hath likewise sworne. But O,

What shall I say to thee Lord Scroope, thou cruell,

Ingratefull, sauage, and inhumane Creature?

Thou that didst beare the key of all my counsailes,

That knew’st the very bottome of my soule,

That (almost) might’st haue coyn’d me into Golde,

(Would’st) thou haue practis’d on me, for thy vse?

May it be possible, that forraigne hyer

Could out of thee extract one sparke of euill

That might annoy my finger? ‘Tis so strange,

That though the truth of it stands off as grosse

As blacke and white, my eye will scarsely see it.

Treason, and murther, euer kept together,

As two yoake diuels sworne to eythers purpose,

Working so grossely in an naturall cause,

That admiration did not hoope at them.”

If that same Dæmon that hath gull’d thee thus,

Should with his Lyon-gate walke the whole world,

He might returne to vastie Tartar backe,

And tell the Legions, I can neuer win

A soule so easie as that Englishmans.

Oh, how hast thou with iealousie infected

The sweetnesse of alliance? Shew men dutifull,

Why so didst thou: seeme they graue and learned?

Why so didst thou. Come they of Noble Family?

Why so didst thou. Seeme they religious?

Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,

Free from grosse passion, or of mirth, or anger,

Constant in spirit, not sweruing with the blood,

Garnish’d and deck’d in modest complement,

Not working with the eye, without the eare,

And but in purged iudgement trusting neither,

Such and so finely boulted didst thou seeme:

And thus thy fall hath left a kinde of blot,

To make thee full fraught man, and best indued

With some suspition, I will weepe for thee.

For this reuolt of thine, me thinkes is like

Another fall of Man. Their faults are open,

Arrest them to the answer of the Law,

And God acquit them of their practises.”

Oh! Tão contritos na hora tão derradeira!


For me, the Gold of France did not seduce,

Although I did admit it as a motiue,

The sooner to effect what I intended:

But God be thanked for preuention,

Which in sufferance heartily will reioyce,

Beseeching God, and you, to pardon mee.”

Touching our person, seeke we no reuenge,

But we our Kingdomes safety must so tender,

Whose ruine you sought, that to her Lawes

We do deliuer you. Get you therefore hence,

(Poore miserable wretches) to your death:

The taste whereof, God of his mercy giue

You patience to indure, and true Repentance

Of all your deare offences. Beare them hence.


Chearely to Sea, the signes of Warre aduance,

No King of England, if not King of France.


for Falstaffe hee is dead, and wee must erne therefore.”



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 niggardly proiection,

Doth like a Miser spoyle his Coat, with scanting

A little Cloth.”

Selfe-loue, my Liege, is not so vile a sinne, as selfe-neglecting.”


Suppose th’Embassador 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”

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 Brasse Cannon: let the Brow o’rewhelme it,

As fearefully, as doth a galled Rocke”


As young as I am, I haue obseru’d these three

Swashers: I am Boy to them all three, but all they three,

though they would serue me, could not be Man to me;

for indeed three such Antiques doe not amount to a man:

for Bardolph, hee is white-liuer’d, and red-fac’d; by the

meanes whereof, a faces it out, but fights not: for Pistoll,

hee hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the

meanes whereof, a breakes Words, and keepes whole

Weapons: for Nim, hee hath heard, that men of few

Words are the best men, and therefore hee scornes to say

his Prayers, lest a should be thought a Coward: but his

few bad Words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for

a neuer broke any mans Head but his owne, and that was

against a Post, when he was drunke. They will steale any

thing, and call it Purchase. Bardolph stole a Lute-case,

bore it twelue Leagues, and sold it for three halfepence.

Nim and Bardolph are sworne Brothers in filching: and

in Callice they stole a fire-shouell. I knew by that peece

of Seruice, the men would carry Coales. They would

haue me as familiar with mens Pockets, as their Gloues

or their Hand-kerchers: which makes much against my

Manhood, if I should take from anothers Pocket, to put

into mine; for it is plaine pocketting vp of Wrongs.

I must leaue them, and seeke some better Seruice: their

Villany goes against my weake stomacke, and therefore

I must cast it vp.



It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud Captens bath,

and I sall quit you with gud leue, as I may pick occasion:

that sall I mary.”


Of my Nation? What ish my Nation? Ish a

Villaine, and a Basterd, and a Knaue, and a Rascall. What

ish my Nation? Who talkes of my Nation?”

The Gates of Mercy shall be all shut vp,

And the flesh’d Souldier, rough and hard of heart,

In libertie of bloody hand, shall raunge

With Conscience wide as Hell, mowing like Grasse

Your fresh faire Virgins, and your flowring Infants.”

What is’t to me, when you your selues are cause,

If your pure Maydens fall into the hand

Of hot and forcing Violation?

What Reyne can hold licentious Wickednesse,

When downe the Hill he holds his fierce Carriere?”

Enter Gouernour.


Our expectation hath this day an end:

The Dolphin, whom of Succours we entreated,

Returnes vs, that his Powers are yet not ready,

To rayse so great a Siege: Therefore great King,

We yeeld our Towne and Liues to thy soft Mercy:

Enter our Gates, dispose of vs and ours,

For we no longer are defensible.


Open your Gates: Come Vnckle Exeter,

Goe you and enter Harflew; there remaine,

And fortifie it strongly ‘gainst the French:

Vse mercy to them all for vs, deare Vnckle.

The Winter comming on, and Sicknesse growing

Vpon our Souldiers, we will retyre to Calis.

To night in Harflew will we be your Guest,

To morrow for the March are we addrest.

Flourish, and enter the Towne.”


Alice, tu as este en Angleterre, & tu bien parlas

le Language.


En peu Madame.


Ie te prie m’ensigniez, il faut que ie apprend a parlen:

Comient appelle vous le main en Anglois?


Le main il & appelle de Hand.”

Le doyts, ma foy Ie oublie, e doyt mays, ie me souemeray

le doyts ie pense qu’ils ont appellé de fingres, ou de fingres.”

coment appelle vous le ongles?


Le ongles, les appellons de Nayles.”


D’Elbow: Ie men fay le repiticio de touts les mots

que vous mavés, apprins dès à present.


Il & trop difficile Madame, comme Ie pense.


Excuse moy Alice escoute, d’Hand, de Fingre, de

Nayles, d’Arma, de Bilbow.


D’Elbow, Madame.


O Seigneur Dieu, ie men oublie d’Elbow, coment appelle

vous le col.


De Nick, Madame.


De Nick, e le menton.


De Chin.


De Sin: le col de Nick, le menton de Sin.


Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur en verité vous pronounciés

les mots ausi droict, que le Natifs d’Angleterre.


Ie ne doute point d’apprendre par de grace de Dieu,

& en peu de temps.


N’aue vos y desia oublié ce que ie vous a (ensignié).


Nome ie recitera a vous promptement, d’Hand, de

Fingre, de Maylees.


De Nayles, Madame.


De Nayles, de Arme, de Ilbow.


Sans vostre honeus d’Elbow.


Ainsi de ie d’Elbow, de Nick, & de Sin: coment appelle

vous les pied & de roba.


Le Foot Madame, & le Count.


Le Foot, & le Count: O Seignieur Dieu, il sont le

mots de son mauvais corruptible grosse & impudique, & non

pour le Dames de Honeur d’vser: Ie ne voudray pronouncer ce

mots deuant le Seigneurs de France, pour toute le monde, fo le

Foot & le Count, néant moys, Ie recitera vn autrefoys ma leçon

ensembe, d’Hand, de Fingre, de Nayles, d’Arme, d’Elbow, de

Nick, de Sin, de Foot, le Count.


Excellent, Madame.


C’est assés pour vne foyes, alons nous a dîner.



Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards:

Mort du ma vie, if they march along

Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome,

To buy a slobbry and a durtie Farme

In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion.

Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France.

Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell?

Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?

On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale,

Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,

A Drench for sur-reyn’d Iades, their Barly broth,

Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?

And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine,

Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land,

Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles

Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People

Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields:

Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords.”


This becomes the Great.

Sorry am I his numbers are so few,

His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:

For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,

Hee’le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,

And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.


Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy,

And let him say to England, that we send,

To know what willing Ransome he will giue.

Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan.”


Fortune is Bardolphs foe, and frownes on him:

for he hath stolne a Pax, and hanged must a be: a damned

death: let Gallowes gape for Dogge, let Man goe free,

and let not Hempe his Wind-pipe suffocate: but Exeter

hath giuen the doome of death, for Pax of little price.

Therefore goe speake, the Duke will heare thy voyce;

and let not Bardolphs vitall thred bee cut with edge of

Penny-Cord, and vile reproach. Speake Captaine for

his Life, and I will thee requite.”


Why ‘tis a Gull, a Foole, a Rogue, that now and

then goes to the Warres, to grace himselfe at his returne

into London, vnder the forme of a Souldier: and such

fellowes are perfit in the Great Commanders Names, and

they will learne you by rote where Seruices were done;

at such and such a Sconce, at such a Breach, at such a Conuoy:

who came off brauely, who was shot, who disgrac’d,

what termes the Enemy stood on; and this they

conne perfitly in the phrase of Warre; which they tricke

vp with new-tuned Oathes: and what a Beard of the Generalls

Cut, and a horride Sute of the Campe, will doe among

foming Bottles, and Alewasht Wits, is wonderfull

to be thought on: but you must learne to know such

slanders of the age, or else you may be maruellously mistooke.”

th’athuersarie was haue possession of

the Pridge, but he is enforced to retyre, and the Duke of

Exeter is Master of the Pridge: I can tell your Maiestie,

the Duke is a praue man.


The perdition of th’athuersarie hath beene very

great, reasonnable great: marry for my part, I thinke the

Duke hath lost neuer a man, but one that is like to be executed

for robbing a Church, one Bardolph, if your Maiestie

know the man: his face is all bubukles and whelkes,

and knobs, and flames a fire, and his lippes blowes at his

nose, and it is like a coale of fire, sometimes plew, and

sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire’s



(…) nothing taken, but pay’d for: none of the French

vpbrayded or abused in disdainefull Language; for when

Leuitie and Crueltie play for a Kingdome, the gentler

Gamester is the soonest winner.”


Thus sayes my King: Say thou to Harry

of England, Though we seem’d dead, we did but sleepe:

Aduantage is a better Souldier then rashnesse. Tell him,

wee could haue rebuk’d him at Harflewe, but that wee

thought not good to bruise an iniurie, till it were full

ripe. Now wee speake vpon our Q. and our voyce is imperiall;

England shall repent his folly, see his weakenesse,

and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider

of his ransome, which must proportion the losses we

haue borne, the subiects we haue lost, the disgrace we

haue digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettinesse

would bow vnder. For our losses, his Exchequer is

too poore; for th’effusion of our bloud, the Muster of his

Kingdome too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his

owne person kneeling at our feet, but a weake and worthlesse

satisfaction. To this adde defiance: and tell him for

conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation

is pronounc’t: So farre my King and Master;

so much my Office”

Yet forgiue me God,

That I doe bragge thus; this your ayre of France

Hath blowne that vice in me. I must repent:

Goe therefore tell thy Master, heere I am;

My Ransome, is this frayle and worthlesse Trunke;

My Army, but a weake and sickly Guard:

Yet God before, tell him we will come on,

Though France himselfe, and such another Neighbor

Stand in our way. There’s for thy labour Mountioy.

Goe bid thy Master well aduise himselfe.

If we may passe, we will: if we be hindred,

We shall your tawnie ground with your red blood

Discolour: and so Mountioy, fare you well.

The summe of all our Answer is but this:

We would not seeke a Battaile as we are,

Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it:

So tell your Master.”

le Cheual volante, the Pegasus, ches les narines de feu. When I bestryde him, I soare, I am a Hawke: he trots the ayre: the Earth sings, when he touches it: the basest horne of his hoofe, is more Musicall then the Pipe of Hermes.”

my Horse is argument for them all: ‘tis a subiect

for a Soueraigne to reason on, and for a Soueraignes Soueraigne

to ride on: And for the World, familiar to vs,

and vnknowne, to lay apart their particular Functions,

and wonder at him, I once writ a Sonnet in his prayse,

and began thus, Wonder of Nature


I haue heard a Sonnet begin so to ones Mistresse.


Then did they imitate that which I compos’d

to my Courser, for my Horse is my Mistresse.


Your Mistresse beares well.


Me well, which is the prescript prayse and perfection

of a good and particular Mistresse.


Nay, for me thought yesterday your Mistresse

shrewdly shooke your back.


So perhaps did yours.


Mine was not bridled.


O then belike she was old and gentle, and you

rode like a Kerne of Ireland, your French Hose off, and in

your strait Strossers.


You haue good iudgement in Horsemanship.


Be warn’d by me then: they that ride so, and

ride not warily, fall into foule Boggs: I had rather haue

my Horse to my Mistresse.


I had as liue haue my Mistresse a Iade.


I tell thee Constable, my Mistresse weares his

owne hayre.


I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a

Sow to my Mistresse.


Le chien est retourné a son propre vemissement e[s]t

la leuye lauée au bourbier: thou mak’st vse of any thing.


Yet doe I not vse my Horse for my Mistresse,

or any such Prouerbe, so little kin to the purpose.


My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw in

your Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?


Starres my Lord.


Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope.


And yet my Sky shall not want.


That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,

and ‘twere more honor some were away.”


Doing is actiuitie, and he will still be doing.


He neuer did harme, that I heard of.


Nor will doe none to morrow: hee will keepe

that good name still.


I know him to be valiant.


I was told that, by one that knowes him better

then you.


What’s hee?


Marry hee told me so himselfe, and hee sayd hee

Car’d not who knew it.


Hee needes not, it is no hidden vertue in



By my faith Sir, but it is: neuer any body saw

it, but his Lacquey: ‘tis a hooded valour, and when it

appeares, it will bate.


Ill will neuer sayd well.


I will cap that Prouerbe with, There is flatterie

in friendship.”

Alas poore Harry of England: hee longs not for the Dawning, as wee doe.”

Foolish Curres, that runne winking into the mouth of a Russian Beare, and haue their heads crusht

like rotten Apples: you may as well say, that’s a valiant Flea, that dare eate his breakefast on the Lippe of a Lyon.”

King. [disfarçado]

God a mercy old Heart, thou speak’st chearefully.

Enter Pistoll.


Che vous la?


A friend.


Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thou

base, common, and popular?


I am a Gentleman of a Company.


Trayl’st thou the puissant Pyke?


Euen so: what are you?


As good a Gentleman as the Emperor.


Then you are a better then the King.


The King’s a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a

Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fist

most valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heartstring

I loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?


Harry le Roy.


Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?


No, I am a Welchman.”


If the Enemie is an Asse and a Foole, and a prating

Coxcombe; is it meet, thinke you, that wee should

also, looke you, be an Asse and a Foole, and a prating Coxcombe,

in your owne conscience now?”

Wee see yonder the beginning of the day,

but I thinke wee shall neuer see the end of it.”


No: nor it is not meet he should: for though I

speake it to you, I thinke the King is but a man, as I am:

the Violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the Element

shewes to him, as it doth to me; all his Sences haue but

humane Conditions: his Ceremonies layd by, in his Nakednesse

he appeares but a man; and though his affectious

are higher mounted then ours, yet when they stoupe,

they stoupe with the like wing: therefore, when he sees

reason of feares, as we doe; his feares, out of doubt, be of

the same rellish as ours are: yet in reason, no man should

possesse him with any appearance of feare; least hee, by

shewing it, should dis-hearten his Army.”


By my troth, I will speake my conscience of the

King: I thinke hee would not wish himselfe any where,

but where hee is.


Then I would he were here alone; so should he be

sure to be ransomed, and a many poore mens liues saued.”

wee know enough, if wee know wee are the Kings Subiects; if his Cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the Cryme of it out of vs.”


But if the Cause be not good, the King himselfe

hath a heauie Reckoning to make, when all those

Legges, and Armes, and Heads, chopt off in a Battaile,

shall ioyne together at the latter day, and cry all, Wee dyed

at such a place, some swearing, some crying for a Surgean;

some vpon their Wiues, left poore behind them;

some vpon the Debts they owe, some vpon their Children

rawly left: I am afear’d, there are few dye well, that dye

in a Battaile: for how can they charitably dispose of any

thing, when Blood is their argument? Now, if these men

doe not dye well, it will be a black matter for the King,

that led them to it; who to disobey, were against all proportion

of subiection.


So, if a Sonne that is by his Father sent about

Merchandize, doe sinfully miscarry vpon the Sea; the imputation

of his wickedneffe, by your rule, should be imposed

vpon his Father that sent him: or if a Seruant, vnder

his Masters command, transporting a summe of Money,

be assayled by Robbers, and dye in many irreconcil’d

Iniquities; you may call the businesse of the Master the

author of the Seruants damnation: but this is not so:

The King is not bound to answer the particular endings

of his Souldiers, the Father of his Sonne, nor the Master

of his Seruant; for they purpose not their death, when

they purpose their seruices. Besides, there is no King, be

his Cause neuer so spotlesse, if it come to the arbitrement

of Swords, can trye it out with all vnspotted Souldiers:

some (peraduenture) haue on them the guilt of

premeditated and contriued Murther; some, of beguiling

Virgins with the broken Seales of Periurie; some,

making the Warres their Bulwarke, that haue before gored

the gentle Bosome of Peace with Pillage and Robberie.

Now, if these men haue defeated the Law, and outrunne

Natiue punishment; though they can out-strip

men, they haue no wings to flye from God. Warre is

his Beadle, Warre is his Vengeance: so that here men

are punisht, for before breach of the Kings Lawes, in

now the Kings Quarrell: where they feared the death,

they haue borne life away; and where they would bee

safe, they perish. Then if they dye vnprouided, no more

is the King guiltie of their damnation, then hee was before

guiltie of those Impieties, for the which they are

now visited. Euery Subiects Dutie is the Kings, but

euery Subiects Soule is his owne. Therefore should

euery Souldier in the Warres doe as euery sicke man in

his Bed, wash euery Moth out of his Conscience: and

dying so, Death is to him aduantage; or not dying,

the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was

gayned: and in him that escapes, it were not sinne to

thinke, that making God so free an offer, he let him outliue

that day, to see his Greatnesse, and to teach others

how they should prepare.”


I my selfe heard the King say he would not be ransom’d.”

you may as well goe about to turne the Sunne to yce, with fanning in his face with a Peacocks feather”

Heere’s my Gloue: Giue mee another of





This will I also weare in my Cap: if euer thou

come to me, and say, after to morrow, This is my Gloue,

by this Hand I will take thee a box on the eare.


If euer I liue to see it, I will challenge it.


Thou dar’st as well be hang’d.


Well, I will doe it, though I take thee in the

Kings companie.


Keepe thy word: fare thee well.


Be friends you English fooles, be friends, wee

haue French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.

Exit Souldiers.

O hard Condition, Twin-borne with Greatnesse,

Subiect to the breath of euery foole, whose sence

No more can feele, but his owne wringing.

What infinite hearts-ease must Kings neglect,

That priuate men enioy?

And what haue Kings, that Priuates haue not too,

Saue Ceremonie, saue generall Ceremonie?

And what art thou, thou Idoll Ceremonie?

What kind of God art thou? that suffer’st more

Of mortall griefes, then doe thy worshippers.

What are thy Rents? what are thy Commings in?

O Ceremonie, shew me but thy worth.

What? is thy Soule of Odoration?

Art thou ought else but Place, Degree, and Forme,

Creating awe and feare in other men?

Wherein thou art lesse happy, being fear’d,

Then they in fearing.

What drink’st thou oft, in stead of Homage sweet,

But poyson’d flatterie? O, be sick, great Greatnesse,

And bid thy Ceremonie giue thee cure.

Thinks thou the fierie Feuer will goe out

With Titles blowne from Adulation?

Will it giue place to flexure and low bending?

Canst thou, when thou command’st the beggers knee,

Command the health of it? No, thou prowd Dreame,

That play’st so subtilly with a Kings Repose,

I am a King that find thee: and I know,

Tis not the Balme, the Scepter, and the Ball,

The Sword, the Mase, the Crowne Imperiall,

The enter-tissued Robe of Gold and Pearle,

The farsed Title running ‘fore the King,

The Throne he sits on: nor the Tyde of Pompe,

That beates vpon the high shore of this World:

No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonie;

Not all these, lay’d in Bed Maiesticall,

Can sleepe so soundly, as the wretched Slaue:

Who with a body fill’d, and vacant mind,

Gets him to rest, cram’d with distressefull bread,

Neuer sees horride Night, the Child of Hell:

But like a Lacquey, from the Rise to Set,

Sweates in the eye of Phebus; and all Night

Sleepes in Elizium: next day after dawne,

Doth rise and helpe Hiperio to his Horse,

And followes so the euer-running yeere

With profitable labour to his Graue:

And but for Ceremonie, such a Wretch,

Winding vp Dayes with toyle, and Nights with sleepe,

Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.

The Slaue, a Member of the Countreyes peace,

Enioyes it; but in grosse braine little wots,

What watch the King keepes, to maintaine the peace;

Whose howres, the Pesant best aduantages.”

Fiue hundred poore I haue in yeerely pay,

Who twice a day their wither’d hands hold vp

Toward Heauen, to pardon, blood:

And I haue built two Chauntries,

Where the sad and solemne Priests sing still

For Richards Soule. More will I doe:

Though all that I can doe, is nothing worth;

Since that my Penitence comes after all,

Imploring pardon.”


O that we now had here

But 10,000 of those men in England,

That doe no worke to day.


What’s he that wishes so?

My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:

If we are markt to dye, we are enow

To doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.

By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,

Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:

It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,

I am the most offending Soule aliue.

No ‘faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:

Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,

As one man more me thinkes would share from me,

For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:

Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,

That he which hath no stomack to this fight,

Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,

And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:

We would not dye in that mans companie,

That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.

This day is call’d the Feast of Crispian:

He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,

And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.

He that shall see this day, and liue old age,

Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,

And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.

Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:

But hee’le remember, with aduantages,

What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words,

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,

Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.

This story shall the good man teach his sonne:

And Crispine Crispian shall ne’re goe by,

From this day to the ending of the World,

But we in it shall be remembred;

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:

For he to day that sheds his blood with me,

Shall be my brother: be he ne’re so vile,

This day shall gentle his Condition.

And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,

Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;

And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,

That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.”

The man that once did sell the Lyons skin while the beast liu’d, was kill’d with hunting him”


Yeeld Curre.


Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qua



Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentle

man? What is thy Name? discusse.”


Est il impossible d’eschapper le force de ton bras.


Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious Mountaine

Goat, offer’st me Brasse [Empáfia]?”


Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vous

prest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostre



Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse

thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt

thou be by this my Sword.”

garde ma vie, & Ie vous donneray deux cent escus.”

Sur mes genoux Ie vous donnes milles remercious, et Ie me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d’vn Cheualier Ie peuse le plus braue valiant et très distinte signieur d’Angleterre.”

the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the

greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more

valour, then this roaring diuell I’th olde play, that euerie

one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and

they are both hang’d, and so would this be, if hee durst

steale any thing aduenturously.”



What call you the Townes name where Alexander the

pig was borne?


Alexander the Great.


Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or

the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous,

are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variations.


I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in

Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon as I

take it.


I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne:

I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of

the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene

Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke

you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there

is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call’d Wye at

Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name

of the other Riuer: but ‘tis all one, tis alike as my fingers

is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you

marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is

come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all

things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his

rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and

his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations,

and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in

his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend



Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill’d

any of his friends.”

as Alexander

kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so

also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his

good iudgements, turn’d away the fat Knight with the

great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and

knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name.


Sir Iohn Falstaffe.


That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne

at Monmouth.


Heere comes his Maiesty.


Enter King Harry and Burbon

with prisoners. Flourish.


His eyes are humbler then they vs’d to be.


How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowst

thou not,

That I haue fin’d these bones of mine for ransome?

Com’st thou againe for ransome?


No great King:

I come to thee for charitable License,

That we may wander ore this bloody field,

To booke our dead, and then to bury them,

To sort our Nobles from our common men.

For many of our Princes (woe the while)

Lye drown’d and soak’d in mercenary blood:

So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbes

In blood of Princes, and with wounded steeds

Fret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage

Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,

Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,

To view the field in safety, and dispose

Of their dead bodies.”


Your Grandfather of famous memory (an’t please

your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke

Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought

a most praue pattle here in France.”

All the water in Wye, cannot wash your Maiesties

Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that”


Souldier, you must come to the King.


Souldier, why wear’st thou that Gloue in thy



And’t please your Maiesty, tis the gage of one

that I should fight withall, if he be aliue.


An Englishman?


And’t please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger’d

with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to

challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe

a’th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he

swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil

strike it out soundly.


What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this

souldier keepe his oath?


Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is,

as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke

your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee

bee periur’d (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a

villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd

vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law.


Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet’st

the fellow.


So, I wil my Liege, as I liue.


Who seru’st thou vnder?


Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege.


Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge

and literatured in the Warres.


Call him hither to me, Souldier.


I will my Liege.



My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,

Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.

The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,

May haply purchase him a box a’th’eare.

It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should

Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:

If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudge

By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;

Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:

For I doe know Fluellen valiant,

And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,

And quickly will returne an iniurie.

Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.

Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.



Sir, know you this Gloue?


Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue.


I know this, and thus I challenge it.

Strikes him.


Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuersall

World, or in France, or in England.


How now Sir? you Villaine.


Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?


Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treason

his payment into plowes, I warrant you.


I am no Traytor.


That’s a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his

Maiesties Name apprehend him, he’s a friend of the Duke


Enter Warwick and Gloucester.


How now, how now, what’s the matter?


My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God

for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke

you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his


Enter King and Exeter.


How now, what’s the matter?


My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,

that looke your Grace, ha’s strooke the Gloue which

your Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson.


My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow

of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis’d to weare

it in his Cappe: I promis’d to strike him, if he did: I met

this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as

good as my word.


Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties

Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie

Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie

and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue

of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience



Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;

Looke, heere is the fellow of it:

Twas I indeed thou promised’st to strike,

And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes.


And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answere

for it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World.


How canst thou make me satisfaction?


All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuer

came any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie.


It was our selfe thou didst abuse.


Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you

Appear’d to me but as a common man; witnesse the

Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what

your Highnesse suffer’d vnder that shape, I beseech you

take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you

beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I

beseech your Highnesse pardon me.


Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,

And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,

And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,

Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:

And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him.


By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha’s mettell

enough in his belly: Hold, there is 12-pence for

you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of

prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I

warrant you it is the better for you.


I will none of your Money.


It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue

you to mend your shooes; come, wherefore should you

be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: ‘tis a good

silling I warrant you, or I will change it.

Enter Herauld.


Now Herauld, are the dead numbred?


Heere is the number of the slaught’red



This Note doth tell me of 10,000 French

That in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number,

And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye dead

126: added to these,

Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen,

8,400: of the which,

500 were but yesterday dubb’d Knights.

So that in these 10,000 they haue lost,

There are but 1,600 Mercenaries:

The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,

And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie.”

Where is the number of our English dead?


But 25.

O God, thy Arme was here”

But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile,

Was euer knowne so great and little losse?”


Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now?

Newes haue I that my Doll is dead I’th Spittle of a malady

of France, and there my rendeuous; is quite cut off:

Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is

Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to

Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and

there Ile steale:

And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres,

And swore I got them in the Gallia warres.



So happy be the Issue brother Ireland

Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,

As we are now glad to behold your eyes,

Your eyes which hitherto haue borne

In them against the French that met them in their bent,

The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes:

The venome of such Lookes we fairely hope

Haue lost their qualitie, and that this day

Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue.”

Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children,

Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time,

The Sciences that should become our Countrey;

But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,

That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,

To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus’d Attyre,

And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall.

Which to reduce into our former fauour,

You are assembled: and my speech entreats,

That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace

Should not expell these inconueniences,

And blesse vs with her former qualities,


If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,

Whose want giues growth to th’imperfections

Which you haue cited; you must buy that Peace

With full accord to all our iust demands,

Whose Tenures and particular effects

You haue enschedul’d briefely in your hands.”


Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs,

She is our capitall Demand, compris’d

Within the fore-ranke of our Articles.”


Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speake

your England.”


Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me.


An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an



Que dit-il que je suis semblable a les Anges?


Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit-il.


O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein de



What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues of

men are full of deceits?


Ouy, dat de [tongues] of de mans is be full of

deceits: dat is de Princesse.

“…I am

glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou

could’st, thou would’st finde me such a plaine King, that

thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my

Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly

to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther,

then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue

me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine:

how say you, Lady?


Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well.”

What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is

but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will

stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl’d Pate will

grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax

hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the

Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it

shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course

truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and

take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King.

And what say’st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire,

and fairely, I pray thee.


Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of


It is as easie for me Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to

speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in

French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me.


Sauf vostre honeur, le François ques vous parlez, il

& melieus que l’Anglois le quel je parle.

Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint

George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English,

that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by

the Beard. Shall wee not? what say’st thou, my faire



I doe not know dat.”

Não devíamos, tu e eu, fabricar um Varão,

Entre Saint Dennis e Saint George, meio-anglo,

Meio-franco, que deve ir a Constantinopla, pegar

Os turcos pelas barbas? Não deveríamos? Que me diz,

Minha bela Flouêrr-de-Lis?


Non saber esto, monrey!”


Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to

deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce.”


Your Majesty avez faux French enough

To decíz da’mos’ sage Damoiseille th’is in Frãnz.

hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres

when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne

out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come

to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder

I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that

Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more

spoyle vpon my Face.”

Envelheço como um bom vinho de tua terra!

Se a sabedoria esconde a feiúra,

Estamos feitos com o Tempo!

Put off your Maiden Blushes,

auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of

an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of

England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner

blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England

is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry

Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his

Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt

finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer

in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and

thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine,

breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou

haue me?”


Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne

veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le

main d’une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse may. Ie

vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur.


Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condition

is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyce nor

the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot so conjure vp

the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true



Pardon the franknesse of my mirth, if I answer

you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must

make a Circle: if conjure vp Loue in her in his true

likenesse, hee must appeare naked, and blinde. Can you

blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros’d ouer with the

Virgin Crimson of Modestie, if shee deny the apparance

of a naked blinde Boy in her naked seeing selfe? It were

(my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to consigne to.”



Shall Kate be my Wife?


So please you.


I am content, so the Maiden Cities you

talke of, may wait on her: so the Maid that stood in

the way for my Wish, shall shew me the way to my



Wee haue consented to all tearmes of reason.”

Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d’Angleterre

Heretière de Fraunce: and thus in Latine; Præclarissimus

Filius noster Henricus Rex Angliæ & Heres Franciæ.”

That English may as French, French Englishmen,

Receiue each other. God speake this Amen.




Small time: but in that small, most greatly liued

This Starre of England. Fortune made his Sword;

By which, the Worlds best Garden he atchieued:

And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord.

Henry the Sixt, 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 showne;¹ and for their sake,

In your faire minds let this acceptance take.


¹ Henry VI foi peça de juventude de Shakespeare, ao contrário da tetralogia da maturidade Ricardo II-Henry IV (Partes 1 & 2)-Henry V.

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