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With all my wits, my pains, and strong endea
vours, To bring your most imperial majesties Unto this bar and royal interview, Your mightiness on both parts best can witness. Since, then, my office hath so far prevailed That, face to face, and royal eye to eye, You have congreeted; let it not disgrace me If I demand, before this royal view, What rub or what impediment there is Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births, Should not, in this best garden of the world, Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage? Alas! she liath from France too long been chased; And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in its own fertility. Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unprunéd dies: her hedges even-pleached, Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put forth disordered twigs : her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon; while that the coulter rusts, That should deracinate such savagery: The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness; and nothing teems But liateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness; Even so our houses, and ourselves and children, Have lost, or do not learn for want of time, The sciences that should become our country; But grow, like savages (as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood), To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire, And everything that seems unnatural. Which to reduce into our former favour You are assembled : and my speech entreats That I may know the let why gentle peace Should not expel these inconveniences, And bless us with her former qualities. K. Hen. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would
the peace Whose want gives growth to the imperfections Which you have cited, you must buy that peace With full accord to all our just demands; Whose tenours and particular effects You have, enscheduled briefly, in your hands. Bur. The King liath heard them: to the which,
as yet, There is no answer made.
K. Hen. Well, then, the peace Which you before so urged lies in his answer. Fr. King. I have but with a cursorary eye VOL. III.
O'erglanced the articles: pleaseth your grace
K. Hen. Brother, we shall.-Go, uncle Exeter,
Exeunt all but HENRY, KATHARINE,
and her Gentlewoman. K. Hen. Fair Katharine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
Kath. Your majesty shall mock at me: I cannot speak your England.
K. Hen. O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
Kath. Pardonnex moy; I cannot tell vat is "like me."
K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate; and you are like an angel.
Kath. Que dit-il ? que je suis semblable à les anges ?
Alice. Ouy, vrayment (sauf vostre grace), ainsi dit-il.
K. Hen. I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it.
Kath. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines des tromperies.
K. Hen. What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits?
Alice. Ouy; dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits : dat is de princess.
K. Hen. The princess is the better Englishwoman. I' faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding. I am glad thou canst speak no better English: for if thou couldst, thou wouldst
find me such a plain king that thou wouldst think l I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know
no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say Kath. I cannot tell vat is dat. “ I love you :" then, if you urge me further than K. Hen. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French; to say “ do you in faith?” I wear out my suit.- | which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like Give me your answer: i' faith, do; and so clap a new-married wife about her husband's neck, liands and a bargain. How say you, lady? hardly to be shook off. Quand j' ay la possession
Kath. Sauf vostre honneur; me understand de France, et quand vous avez la possession de well.
moi (let me see, what then? Saint Dennis be my K. Hen. Marry, if you would put me to verses speed !)-donc vostre est France, et vous estes or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer me: for the one I have neither words nor mea the kingdom as to speak so much more French : sure; and for the other I have no strength in I shall never move thee in French, unless it be measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. to laugh at me. If I could win a lady at leapfrog, or by vaulting | Kath. Sauf vostre honneur; le François que vous into my saddle with my armour on my back parlez est meilleur que l' Anglois lequel je parle. (under the correction of bragging be it spoken), K. Hen. No, 'faith, is 't not, Kate: but thy I should quickly leap into a wife. Or if I might speaking of my tongue, and I thine, most truly buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her falsely, must needs be granted to be much at favours, I could lay on like a butcher, and sit like one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much a jackanapes, never off: but, before God, I can English :-Canst thou love me? not look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence; Kath. I cannot tell. nor I have no cunning in protestation; only K. Hen. Can any of your neighbours tell, downright oaths, which I never use till urged, Kate? I 'll ask them. Come, I know thou lovest nor never break for urging. If thou canst love me: and at night when you come into your cloa fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not set, you 'll question this gentlewoman about me; worth sun-burning, that never looks in his glass and I know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those for love of anything he sees there, let thine eye | parts in me that you love with your heart: but, be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier. If good Kate, mock me mercifully; the rather, thou canst love me for this, take me: if not, to say gentle princess, because I love thee cruelly. If to thee that I shall die, is true; but, for thy love, ever thou be'st mine, Kate (as I have a saving by the lord, 110: yet I love thee too. And while faith within me tells me thou shalt), I get thee thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and with scambling, and thou must therefore needs uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee
prove a good soldier-breeder. Shall not thou and right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, complaces: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that pound a boy, half French, half English, that shall can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they go to Constantinople and take the Turk by the do always reason themselves out again. What! beard? Shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair a speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a bal flower-de-luce ? lad. A good leg will fall; a straight back will Kath. I do not know dat. stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled K. Hen. No; 't is hereafter to know, but now pate will grow bald ; a fair face will wither; a to promise. Do but now promise, Kate, you will full eye will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, endeavour for your French part of such a boy ; is the sun and moon; or rather the sun, and not and for my English moiety, take the word of a the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes, king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus but keeps his course truly. If thou would have belle Katharine du monde; mon très chère et such a one, take me: and take me, take a soldier; divine déesse ? take a soldier, take a king. And what sayest Kate. Your majesté ’ave fausse French enough thou, then, to my love? speak, my fair, and to deceive de most sage damoiselle dat is en fairly, I pray thee.
France. Kath. Is it possible dat I should love de enemy K. Hen. Now, fie upon my false French! By of France?
mine honour, in true English, I love thee, Kate, K. IIen. No; it is not possible you should love By which honour I dare not swear thou lovest the enemy of France, Kate: but in loving me me: yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou you should love the friend of France; for I love dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering France so well that I will not part with a village effect of my visage. Now beshrew my father's of it; I will have it all mine : and, Kate, when ambition! he was thinking of civil wars when he France is mine, and I am yours, then yours is got me; therefore was I created with a stubborn France, and you are mine.
outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when I
l'rench council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.--Here comes your father.
come to woo ladies, I fright them. But in faith, Kate, the elder I wax the better I shall appear. My comfort is that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better. And therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress : take me by the hand, and say, “ Harry of England, I am thine." Which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud,“ England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine :" who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows.—Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music, and thy English broken : therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English: wilt thou have me?
Kath. Dat is as it shall please de roy mon père.
K. Hen. Nay, it will please him well, Kate : it shall please him, Kate.
Kath. Den it shall also content me.
K. Hen. Upon that I will kiss you and, and I call you my queen.
Kath. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez : ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez vostre grandeur en baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure. Excusez moy, je vous supplie, mon très puissant seigneur.
K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
Kath. Les dames et damoiselles pour estre buisées devant leur nopces, il n'est pas le coûtume de France.
K. Hen. Madam my interpreter, what says she?
Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France, I cannot tell what is “baiser" en English.
K. Hen. To kiss.
K. Hen. It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married. would she say?
Alice. Ouy, vrayment.
K. Hen. 0 Kate, nice customs curt'sy to great Kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion : we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouths of all find-faults: as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country, in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently and yielding. [Kissing her. )-You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them, than in the tongues of the
Enter the French King and Queen, BURGUNDY,
BEDFORD, GLOSTER, Exeter, WESTMORLAND, and other French and English Lords.
Bur. God save your majesty! My royal cousin, teach you our princess English ?
K. Hen. I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her: and that is good English.
Bur. Is she not apt?
K. Hen. Our tongue is rough, coz; and my condition is not smooth : so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in her that he will appear in his true likeness.
Bur. Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle: if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind: can you blame her, then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.
K. Hen. Yet they do wink and yield; as love is blind and enforces.
Bur. They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.
K. Hen. Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent to winking.
Bur. I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well summered and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.
K. Hen. This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer; and so I will catch the fly your cousin in the latter end, and she must be blind too.
Bur. As love is, my lord, before it loves.
K. Hen. It is so: and you may, some of you, thank love for my blindness; who cannot see many a fair French city, for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
Fr. King. Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid : for they are all girdled with maiden walls, that war
hath never entered. | K. Hen. Shall Kate be my wife?
Fr. King. So please you.
K Hen. I am content, so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her: so the maid that stood in the way of my wish shall shew me the way to my will.