Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and
the BISHOP OF ELY
CANTERBURY. God and his angels guard your
sacredthrone,
And make you long become it!
KING HENRY. Sure, we thank you.
My
learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
And
justly and religiously unfold
Why the law Salique, that they have in France,
Or should or should not bar us in our claim;
And God
forbid, my dear and
faithful lord,
That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
Or
nicelycharge your understanding soul
With
opening titles miscreate whose right
Suits not in native colours with the truth;
For God doth know how many, now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation
Of what your
reverence shall incite us to.
Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
How you awake our
sleeping sword of war-
We
charge you, in the name of God, take heed;
For never two such kingdoms did contend
Without much fall of blood; whose
guiltless drops
Are every one a woe, a sore complaint,
'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords
That makes such waste in brief mortality.
Under this conjuration speak, my lord;
For we will hear, note, and believe in heart,
That what you speak is in your
conscience wash'd
As pure as sin with baptism.
CANTERBURY. Then hear me,
gracioussovereign, and you peers,
That owe yourselves, your lives, and services,
To this
imperialthrone. There is no bar
To make against your Highness' claim to France
But this, which they produce from Pharamond:
'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant'-
'No woman shall succeed in Salique land';
Which Salique land the French un
justly gloze
To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
The
founder of this law and
female bar.
Yet their own authors
faithfully affirm
That the land Salique is in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
Where Charles the Great, having subdu'd the Saxons,
There left behind and settled certain French;
Who,
holding in
disdain the German women
For some
dishonest manners of their life,
Establish'd then this law: to wit, no
femaleShould be inheritrix in Salique land;
Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
Then doth it well appear the Salique law
Was not devised for the realm of France;
Nor did the French possess the Salique land
Until four hundred one and twenty years
After defunction of King Pharamond,
Idly suppos'd the
founder of this law;
Who died within the year of our redemption
Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
Subdu'd the Saxons, and did seat the French
Beyond the river Sala, in the year
Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,
Did, as heir general, being descended
Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,
Make claim and title to the crown of France.
Hugh Capet also, who usurp'd the crown
Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
To find his title with some shows of truth-
Though in pure truth it was
corrupt and naught-
Convey'd himself as th' heir to th' Lady Lingare,
Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the son
Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,
Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
Could not keep quiet in his
conscience,
Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied
That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,
Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine;
By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
Was re-united to the Crown of France.
So that, as clear as is the summer's sun,
King Pepin's title, and Hugh Capet's claim,
King Lewis his
satisfaction, all appear
To hold in right and tide of the
female;
So do the kings of France unto this day,
Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
To bar your Highness claiming from the
female;
And rather choose to hide them in a net
Than amply to imbar their
crooked tides
Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.
KING HENRY. May I with right and
conscience make this claim?
CANTERBURY. The sin upon my head, dread
sovereign!
For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
When the man dies, let the inheritance
Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
Stand for your own, unwind your
bloody flag,
Look back into your
mighty ancestors.
Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb,
From whom you claim;
invoke his
warlike spirit,
And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
Making defeat on the fun power of France,
Whiles his most
mighty father on a hill
Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
Forage in blood of French nobility.
O noble English, that could entertain
With half their forces the full pride of France,
And let another half stand laughing by,
All out of work and cold for action!
ELY. Awake
remembrance of these
valiant dead,
And with your puissant arm renew their feats.
You are their heir; you sit upon their
throne;
The blood and courage that
renowned them
Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
Ripe for exploits and
mighty enterprises.
EXETER. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
As did the former lions of your blood.
WESTMORELAND. They know your Grace hath cause and means and might-
So hath your Highness; never King of England
Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.
CANTERBURY. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
With blood and sword and fire to win your right!
In aid
whereof we of the spiritualty
Will raise your Highness such a
mighty sum
As never did the
clergy at one time
Bring in to any of your ancestors.
KING HENRY. We must not only arm t'
invade the French,
But lay down our proportions to defend
Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
With all advantages.
CANTERBURY. They of those marches,
gracioussovereign,
Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
Our
inland from the pilfering borderers.
KING HENRY. We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;
For you shall read that my great-grandfather
Never went with his forces into France
But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
With ample and brim fulness of his force,
Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,
Girdling with
grievous siege castles and towns;
That England, being empty of defence,
Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood.
CANTERBURY. She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege;
For hear her but exampled by herself:
When all her
chivalry hath been in France,
And she a
mourning widow of her nobles,
She hath herself not only well defended
But taken and impounded as a stray
The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings,
And make her
chronicle as rich with praise
As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
With
sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
WESTMORELAND. But there's a
saying, very old and true:
'If that you will France win,
Then with Scotland first begin.'
For once the eagle England being in prey,
To her
unguarded nest the
weasel Scot
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her
princely eggs,
Playing the mouse in
absence of the cat,
To tear and havoc more than she can eat.
EXETER. It follows, then, the cat must stay at home;
Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
Since we have locks to
safeguard necessaries
And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
Th' advised head defends itself at home;
For government, though high, and low, and lower,
Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
Congreeing in a full and natural close,
Like music.
CANTERBURY. Therefore doth heaven divide
The state of man in
divers functions,
Setting
endeavour in
continual motion;
To which is fixed as an aim or but
Obedience; for so work the honey bees,
Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts,
Where some like magistrates correct at home;
Others like merchants
venture trade abroad;
Others like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's
velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent-royal of their
emperor;
Who, busied in his
majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold,
The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
The poor
mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale