| KING OF FRANCE | |
Thus comes the English with full power upon us; | |
| | And more than carefully it us concerns | |
| | To answer royally in our defences. | |
| | Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, | |
| | Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, | 5 |
| | And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, | |
| | To line and new repair our towns of war | |
| | With men of courage and with means defendant; | |
| | For England his approaches makes as fierce | |
| | As waters to the sucking of a gulf. | 10 |
| | It fits us then to be as provident | |
| | As fear may teach us out of late examples | |
| | Left by the fatal and neglected English | |
| | Upon our fields. | |
| DAUPHIN | |
My most redoubted father, |
| | It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; | 15 |
| | For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, | |
| | Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, | |
| | But that defences, musters, preparations, | |
| | Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, | |
| | As were a war in expectation. | 20 |
| | Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth | |
| | To view the sick and feeble parts of France: | |
| | And let us do it with no show of fear; | |
| | No, with no more than if we heard that England | |
| | Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: | 25 |
| | For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, | |
| | Her sceptre so fantastically borne | |
| | By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, | |
| | That fear attends her not. | |
| Constable | |
O peace, Prince Dauphin! | 30 |
| | You are too much mistaken in this king: | |
| | Question your grace the late ambassadors, | |
| | With what great state he heard their embassy, | |
| | How well supplied with noble counsellors, | |
| | How modest in exception, and withal | 35 |
| | How terrible in constant resolution, | |
| | And you shall find his vanities forespent | |
| | Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, | |
| | Covering discretion with a coat of folly; | |
| | As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots | 40 |
| | That shall first spring and be most delicate. | |
| DAUPHIN | |
Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; | |
| | But though we think it so, it is no matter: | |
| | In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh | |
| | The enemy more mighty than he seems: | 45 |
| | So the proportions of defence are fill'd; | |
| | Which of a weak or niggardly projection | |
| | Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting | |
| | A little cloth. | |
| KING OF FRANCE | |
Think we King Harry strong; |
| | And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. | 50 |
| | The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; | |
| | And he is bred out of that bloody strain | |
| | That haunted us in our familiar paths: | |
| | Witness our too much memorable shame | |
| | When Cressy battle fatally was struck, | 55 |
| | And all our princes captiv'd by the hand | |
| | Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; | |
| | Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, | |
| | Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, | |
| | Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, | 60 |
| | Mangle the work of nature and deface | |
| | The patterns that by God and by French fathers | |
| | Had twenty years been made. This is a stem | |
| | Of that victorious stock; and let us fear | |
| | The native mightiness and fate of him. | 65 |
| | [Enter a Messenger] |
| DAUPHIN | |
Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs | 70 |
| | Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten | |
| | Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, | |
| | Take up the English short, and let them know | |
| | Of what a monarchy you are the head: | |
| | Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin | 75 |
| | As self-neglecting. | |
| | [Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train] |
| EXETER | |
From him; and thus he greets your majesty. | |
| | He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, | |
| | That you divest yourself, and lay apart | 80 |
| | The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, | |
| | By law of nature and of nations, 'long | |
| | To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown | |
| | And all wide-stretched honours that pertain | |
| | By custom and the ordinance of times | 85 |
| | Unto the crown of France. That you may know | |
| | 'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, | |
| | Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, | |
| | Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, | |
| | He sends you this most memorable line, | 90 |
| | In every branch truly demonstrative; | |
| | Willing to overlook this pedigree: | |
| | And when you find him evenly derived | |
| | From his most famed of famous ancestors, | |
| | Edward the Third, he bids you then resign | 95 |
| | Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held | |
| | From him the native and true challenger. | |
| EXETER | |
Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown | |
| | Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: | 100 |
| | Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, | |
| | In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, | |
| | That, if requiring fail, he will compel; | |
| | And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, | |
| | Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy | 105 |
| | On the poor souls for whom this hungry war | |
| | Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head | |
| | Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries | |
| | The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, | |
| | For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, | 110 |
| | That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. | |
| | This is his claim, his threatening and my message; | |
| | Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, | |
| | To whom expressly I bring greeting too. | |
| EXETER | |
Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, | 120 |
| | And any thing that may not misbecome | |
| | The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. | |
| | Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness | |
| | Do not, in grant of all demands at large, | |
| | Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, | 125 |
| | He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, | |
| | That caves and womby vaultages of France | |
| | Shall chide your trespass and return your mock | |
| | In second accent of his ordnance. | |
| EXETER | |
He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, | 135 |
| | Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: | |
| | And, be assured, you'll find a difference, | |
| | As we his subjects have in wonder found, | |
| | Between the promise of his greener days | |
| | And these he masters now: now he weighs time | 140 |
| | Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read | |
| | In your own losses, if he stay in France. | |
This edition copyright © 2000 Dana Spradley, Publisher, shakespeare.com. Originally derived from the Complete Moby Shakespeare(tm), which is now in the public domain.
'The First Web Folio Edition' is a trademark of Dana Spradley, Publisher, shakespeare.com. All rights reserved.