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The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,

That many things, having full reference
To one consent, may work contrariously;

As many arrows loosed several ways
Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town,

As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea,
As many lines close in the dial's centre;

So many a thousand actions, once afoot,
End in one purpose, and be all well home

Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
Divide your happy England into four;

Whereof take you one quarter into France,
And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.

If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,

Let us be worried, and our nation lose
The name of hardiness and policy.

KING HENRY. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.
Exeunt some attendants

Now are we well resolv'd; and, by God's help
And yours, the noble sinews of our power,

France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
Or break it all to pieces; or there we'll sit,

Ruling in large and ample empery
O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,

Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
Tombless, with no remembrance over them.

Either our history shall with full mouth
Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,

Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.

Enter AMBASSADORS of France
Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure

Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
Your greeting is from him, not from the King.

AMBASSADOR. May't please your Majesty to give us leave
Freely to render what we have in charge;

Or shall we sparingly show you far of
The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?

KING HENRY. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king,
Unto whose grace our passion is as subject

As are our wretches fett'red in our prisons;
Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness

Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
AMBASSADOR. Thus then, in few.

Your Highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right

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 advis'd 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.

KING HENRY. What treasure, uncle?
EXETER. Tennis-balls, my liege.

KING HENRY. 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 valu'd this poor seat of England;
And therefore, living hence, did give ourself

To barbarouslicence; as 'tis 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 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

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

EXETER. This was a merry message.
KING HENRY. We hope to make the sender blush at it.

Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
That may give furth'rance 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 reasonableswiftness ad
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. Exeunt
ACT II. PROLOGUE.

Flourish. Enter CHORUS
CHORUS. 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,
Promis'd to Harry and his followers.

The French, advis'd 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!-
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 we'll digest

Th' abuse of distance, 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 play-house 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.

London. Before the Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap
Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH

BARDOLPH. Well met, Corporal Nym.
NYM. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

BARDOLPH. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends 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 an end.

BARDOLPH. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we'll
be all three sworn brothers to France. Let't 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.

BARDOLPH. 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.

Enter PISTOL and HOSTESS
BARDOLPH. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be

patient here.
NYM. How now, mine host Pistol!

PISTOL. Base tike, call'st thou me host?
Now by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;

Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
HOSTESS. 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 bawdy-house

straight. [Nym draws] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn! Now
we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.

BARDOLPH. Good Lieutenant, good Corporal, offer nothing here.
NYM. Pish!

PISTOL. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of
Iceland!

HOSTESS. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.
NYM. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.

PISTOL. 'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!
The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face;



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