Original subtitles

Theatre. It can show us who we are, who we were and who we could be.

It means imagining bigger, understanding better, feeling together.

On our stages and on tour, in schools and with communities,

on cinema screens worldwide and now at home. We are the National Theatre

and we make theatre.

for everyone.

Oh, for a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention,

a kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to

behold the swelling scene.

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, assume the part of

Mars, and at his heels, leashed in like hounds, should famine

sword and fire crouch for employment.

But pardon, gentles, all the flat, unraised spirits

that have dared on this unworthy stage so to bring forth so great a story.

Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?

within this wooden O, the very guns that did affright the heir

at Agincourt.

Oh, pardon.

And let us, actors of this great account, on your

imaginary forces work.

Suppose

Within the girdle of these walls are now confined two mighty monarchies, parted

by a perilous narrow ocean.

Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts. Into a thousand parts divide

one man and make imaginary multitudes.

Think, when we talk of horses,

that you see them.

printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth.

For tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, carry them here and there,

jumping o'er times, turning the accomplishment of many years into an

hourglass.

For the witch supply, admit me, chorus

to this.

history who prologue like your humble patience pray

gently to hear kindly to judge our play

before

god father father

i'm exceeding weary

Oh, is it come to that? I had the weariness, durst not have attached to

one of so high blood.

Faith it does me, though it discolours the complexion of my greatness to

acknowledge it.

Doth it not show vile in me to desire more?

But once in my day...

touching hands reaching out

touching me touching you

sweet

Now, what time of day is it, lad? What a devil is thou to do with the time of

day? Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons and clocks, the tongues

of boards, and the blessed son himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured

taffeta, I see no reason why thou should be so superfluous to demand the time of

day.

Boy! No!

Hurses!

Indeed, you come near me now.

We that steal purses, we go by the moon.

But where shall we take a pass tomorrow, Sir John? Zoos. Where thou wilt, lad,

I'll make one. If I do not, call me a villain and baffle me.

You owe me money, Sir John. Go to you or the woman.

Go! Who, I? No, I defy thee.

Thou art a beast, to say otherwise.

Say, what beast thou knave thou? What beast? Yes, what beast? I don't know.

What beast? Why an otter? An otter? Sir John, why an otter?

Why, she's neither fish nor flesh.

A man knows not where to have her.

Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows where to have me.

Thou sayest true, hostess, and he slanders thee most.

Mostly, huh?

Am I not falling away vilely? Do I not dwindle? Do I not bait?

Company.

Villainous company hath been the spoil of me. Why, Sir John, you're so fretful

you cannot live long.

Why, there is it.

I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need be.

Virtuous enough.

Swore little.

Diced not.

More than seven times a week. Visited a bawdy house not more than once in a

quarter. Of an hour.

Paid money I borrowed three or four times.

I lived well and in good compass.

And now, now I live out of all order. Out of all compass. I said, John, you

are so fat, you must need to be out of all reasonable compass.

Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life.

Is not my hostess Nell the most sweet wench? Why, what have I to do with Nell?

Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft. Yes?

Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

No, I'll give thee thy due.

Thou hast paid all there. And elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch.

So used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art... Ere apparent.

But, prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows

standing in England when thou art king?

Do not, when thou art king, hang a thief.

No, thou shalt.

Shall I?

Ah, ray, by the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

Were thou judge's force already?

I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare

hangman.

Well, Hal, well.

Jesus, my lord the prince.

And now, my lady hostess, what say'st thou to me?

Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door would speak with you.

He says your father's... Your father's...

Stand here by me, Pistol.

Bardolph, I shall make the king do us grace and do but

mark the countenance he will give us.

God save thee, my sweet boy.

I know thee not, old man.

Fall to thy prayers.

I have long dreams of such a kind of man, so soft its swell,

so weak and so profane, that being

awaked, I do despise my dream.

Set off.

Do not grieve at this, and I shall be sent for in private to it.

My lord, I'll tell you, that same bill is back.

which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign was like and indeed had

against us passed and would have stripped our church's treasury but that

the scrambling and unquiet times did push it out of farther question but how

my lord shall we resist it now it must be fought on if it pass against us we

lose the better half of our possession but what prevention

The king is full of grace and fair regard. And a true lover of the holy

church. The courses of his youth promised it not.

The breath no sooner left his father's body, but that his wildness mortified in

him seemed to die too. We are blessed in the chain. It is a wonder how his grace

should change so.

Since his addiction was to pastimes vain. His company unlettered, rude and

shallow. His hours taken up with banquets, riots, sports.

and never noted him in any study now my good lord how now for mitigation of this

bill urged by the commons doth his majesty incline to it or no he seems

indifferent or rather swaying more upon our part than heeding those that fight

against the church for i have made an offer to his majesty

as touching france To give a greater sum than ever at one time the clergy yet did

to his predecessors part with all. How did this offer seem received, my lord?

With good acceptance of his majesty, save there was not time enough to hear,

as I perceived his grace would fain have done, the details and unhidden passages

of his true claim to some certain dukedoms.

And above all...

To the crown and throne of France, derived from Edward, his great

-grandfather. What was the impediment that broke this off? The French

ambassador upon that instant craved audience, and the owl, I think, has come

to give him hearing. Is it four o'clock? It is.

Then go ye in to know his embassy.

I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.

Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

He's not here in presence.

Send for him, good Exeter.

Shall we call the French ambassador, my liege? Not yet, my cousin Westmoreland.

We would be resolved before we hear him of some things of weight that task our

thoughts concerning us and France.

Ah.

God and his angels guard your sacred throne and make you long become it.

Sure, we thank you.

My learned Lord, we pray you to proceed and justly and religiously unfold why

the law salic 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,

rest or slant your reading. For God doth know how many now in health shall drop

their blood in battle now to fight for what your reverence shall incite us to.

Therefore, take heed how you imporn our person.

How you awake our sleeping sword of war. We charge you in the name of God.

Take heed.

Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers that owe yourselves your

lives and services to this imperial throne.

There is no bar to make against your highness' claim to France.

But this, which they produce from Farabond, in terram salicam mulieris ne

succedent, no woman shall succeed in salic land, which salic land the

French unjustly claim to be the realm of France, and Farabond the founder of this

law and female bar, yet their own authors faithfully affirm that the land

salic is in Germany, between the floods of Sala and of Elbe, where Charles the

Great, having subdued the Saxons, there left behind and settled certain French,

who, holding in disdain the German women for some dishonest manners of their

life, established then this law, to wit, no female should be in heretics in Salic

land.

Then doth it well appear that the Salic law was not devised for the realm of

France.

nor did the French possess the Salic lands until 420 years after the

dysfunction of King Farabond, idly supposed the founder of this law, who

died within the year of our redemption, 426.

And Charles the Great subdued the Saxons and did seat the French beyond the River

Salle in the year 805.

Besides,

They're right to say the king pepin which deposed of Schilderick did as a

general being descended of Blythild Daughter to King Clotaire make claim and

title to the crown of France Hugh Cabot also Who usurped

the crown of Charles the Duke of Lorraine sole heir male to the true line

of stock of Charles the Great conveyed himself

as heir to the Lady Lingard, daughter to Charlemagne, which was the son to Louis

the Emperor, and Louis the son of Charles the Great, so that, as clear

as is the summer sun, that King Pepin and King Louis

all appear to hold their right and title through the female, so do the kings of

France unto this day.

How be it they should hold up this salic law to bar your highness claiming from

the female?

May I with right and conscience make this claim?

The sin upon my head, dread sovereign.

Gracious Lord, stand up for your own.

Unwind your bloody flag.

Look back to your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, for whom, you

claim, invoke his warlike spirit.

And to your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, who on the French ground

played a tragedy, making defeat on the full power of France. 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. Your brother kings

and monarchs of the earth do all expect that you should rouse yourselves.

As did the former lions of your blood.

They know your grace hath cause and means and might. Never king of England

had nobles richer and more loyal subjects whose hearts have left their

bodies here in England and lie pavilioned in the fields of France.

Oh, let their bodies follow, my dear liege.

In aid whereof.

We here in the church will raise your highness such a mighty son has never did

the clergy at one time Bring in to any of your ancestors

Call

in the messenger sent from the dover

Now we are well prepared to know the pleasure of our fair cousin Dauphin, for

we hear your greeting is from him, not from the king.

May it please your majesty to give us leave freely to render what we have to

say, or shall we sparingly show you far off the Dauphin's meaning and our

embassy? We are no tyrant, but a Christian king, therefore with frank and

uncurbed plainness. Tell us the Dauphin's mind.

Thus then, in few.

Your Highness, lately sending into France, did claim some certain dukedoms

in the right of your great predecessor, King Edward III.

In answer of which claims, the prince, our master, says that you

savor too much of your youth and bids you be advised.

There's not...

in France that can be with some nimble footwork one.

You cannot revel into dukedoms there.

He therefore sends you, matching to your spirit, this box of

treasure, and in lieu of this desires you let the dukedoms that you claim

hear no more of you.

This, the dauphin, speaks.

What treasure, lady?

Tennis balls, my liege.

We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us.

His present and your pains we thank you for.

When we have matched our rackets to these balls, we will in France, by God's

grace, play a set.

He'll strike his father's crown into the hazard.

Tell him he hath made a match with such a player that all the courts in France

will be disturbed with matches.

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 valued this poor seat of England, and therefore, living hence,

did give ourselves to barbarous license, as tis ever common that men are merriest

when they are from home.

But tell the dofer I will keep my state.

Be like a king and show my sale 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 of glory that I will dazzle all of the eyes

of France. Yea, strike the dofer blind to look on us. And tell the pleasant

prince this.

Mock of his have turned his balls to gunstones, 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 out of their dear

husbands, mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down, and there are some

yet ungotten and unborn that shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's score.

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.

So get you hence in peace.

Oh, and tell you the Dauphin, his jest

will save a butt of shallow wit when thousands weep.

More than did laugh at it.

Fare thee well.

This was a merry message.

We hope to make the sender blush at it.

Now are we well resolved.

And God before will chide this dofer at his father's door.

Let every man now task his thought that this just action may on foot be brought.

Therefore, let us omit no happy hour that may give furtherance to our

expedition, for we have now no thought in us but France, save those to God that

run before our business.

Therefore, let all things be thought upon that may with reasonable swiftness

add more feathers to our wings.

France being ours, we'll bend it to our oar.

or break it all to pieces.

Now all the youth of England are on fire, and silken outfits in the wardrobe

lie.

Now thrive the armourers, and honest thought reigns solely in the breast

of every man.

they follow the mirror of all christian kings with winged heels as english

mercuries for now sits expectation

in the air of crowns imperial

crowns and coronets promised to harry and his followers

is majesty

Lieutenant Bardot. What, are you and ancient pistol friends again yet?

For my part, I care not.

Say little.

But when time shall serve, there shall be smiles.

But that shall be as it may.

Well, I'll buy you breakfast and make you friends and we'll be all free sworn

brothers to France. Let it be so good, Corporal Nim.

Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's certain.

And when I cannot live any longer, I will do what I can.

That is my resolve. That is the...

Rendezvous of it. Look, it is certain, corporal, that he's married to Nell

quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for you were betrothed to her. I

cannot tell.

Things must be as they may.

Men may sleep, and they may have their throats with them at that time, and some

say knives have edges.

It must be as it may.

There must be conclusions.

Here comes ancient pistol. Good corporal, be patient here.

How now, my host, pistol-based dog, callst thou me host?

Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term, nor shall my Nell keep lodgers,

no? No, by my troth not long, for we cannot lodge on board a dozen or

fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needles, or have

we thought we'd keep a body out?

Oi! Good corporal, good lieutenant, fight not here! Pish! Pish for thee,

Iceland dog!

Thou prick-eared cur of Iceland.

Oi! Good, Corporal Nim.

Show thy valour.

Put up your sword. For you?

Shut up!

Oi! Oi! Oi!

Oi!

Oi! Oi!

Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!

Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!

Egregious dog, oh, viper vile, the soulless in thy most marvellous face,

the soulless in thy teeth and in thy throat and in thy hateful lungs, yeah,

in thy lungs, and which is worse, within thy nasty mouth.

Rah! And do retort the soulless in thy bowels, for I am armed and pistols

cockies up and flashing fire will follow.

I have a...

A humour to knock you indifferently well.

If you grow far with me, pistol, I will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in

fair play.

And if you, if you would walk off, I would prick your guts a little,

in fair play, as I may.

And that's the humour of it. Oh, braggart, vile and damned, furious man.

The grave doth gape and doting death is near. Therefore, exhale.

Hey, hear me, hear me what I say.

He that strikes the first blow, I'll run him up to the hilt as I am a soldier.

An oath of great power our fury shall abate. Give me thy hand. Thy spirits are

most tall.

Look.

I will cut my throat at one time or another.

In fair play.

And that's the humour of it. Oh, ooh-la-la.

Cooper Lagorge.

I thee defy again, O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?

Na, to the hospital go, and fetch forth some lazardol, and marry her.

For I have, and I will hold, the former mistress quickly. Now go to... Solus.

You must come to my master Falstaff and your hostess. He's very sick and went to

bed. Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets and do thee office of a

warming-pan.

Faith, he's very ill. Away, you rogue.

Buy my trophy or yield the crows a pudding one of these days. The king had

killed his heart. Good husband, come home presently.

Come, shall I make you two friends?

We must have frowned together.

Why the devil shall we keep knives to cut one another's throats?

You'll pay me the eight shillings I won off you at betting. Base is the slave

that pays. Hopeful name and thou wilt be friends, be friends. If thou will not,

why, then be enemies with me too. Pray be put up. You'll pay me the eight

shillings. Er, no.

As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John.

A poor heart is so shaped of a burning with fever it is most lamentable to

behold.

Sweet men come to him.

The king hath run bad humours on the night.

Nym, thou hast spoke the right. His heart is fractured and corroborate. The

king is a good king, but it must be as it may.

Let us go sit with the old knight, for, lamb-kins, we will live.

The French, advised 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 faults france hath in thee found out a nest of hollow bosoms which he fills

with treacherous crowns and three corrupted lords one the earl of

cambridge and the second lord scroope of masham and the third sir thomas gray

knight of northumberland have for the coin of france o guilt

indeed

confirmed conspiracy with fearful france and by their hands this grace of kings

must die ere he take ship for france the sum is paid the traitors

are agreed the king is set from london and the scene is now transported gentles

to southampton

For God, his grace is bold to trust these traitors. They shall be

apprehended by and by.

How smooth and even they do bear themselves, as if allegiance in their

bosoms sat crowned with faith and constant loyalty. The king hath note of

all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of. Nay, but the

one that was his bedfellow, whom he hath dulled and cloyed with gracious

favours, that she should, for a foreign purse, so sell her sovereign's life to

death and treachery.

Well, now, sits the wind fair, and we will abhor. My Earl of Cambridge, my

kind Lord of Masham, and you,

my gentle friend, give me your thoughts.

Think you not the powers we bear with us will cut their passage through the force

of Frank? No doubt, my liege. Oh, if each man do his best.

Well, we doubt not that. Never was monarch better feared and loved than is

your majesty.

Very true.

We therefore have great cause for thankfulness.

So service shall with steeled sinews toil, and labour shall refresh itself

with hope to do your grace incessant services.

We judge no less.

Exeter, set free that man committed yesterday that raised... against our

person. We consider it was excessive wine that set him on, and on his more

advice we pardon him.

That's mercy, but too much security.

Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example breed by his sufferance more of

such a kind. Oh, let us be merciful.

So may your highness, and yet punish too.

Sir, you show great mercy if you give life after the taste of much correction.

Alas! Your too much love and care of me are heavy prayers against this poor

wretch. If little faults proceeding on distemper shall not be winked at, how

shall we stretch the eye when capital crimes, chewed, swallowed and digested,

appear before us?

We'll yet set free that man, though Cambridge, Scroop and... In their dear

care and tender preservation of our person would have him punished. Now to

our French courses. Who are the late commissioners?

I won, my lord. Your Highness bade me ask for it today. So did you, my liege.

And I, my royal sovereign. Then, Earl of Cambridge, there is yours.

There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham. And, Sir Knight, Grey of Northumberland.

This same is yours.

Read them, and know I know your worthiness.

Westmoreland and Exeter we will abhor tonight.

Why, how now?

Not see you in those papers that you lose so much complexion. Look you how

they change.

Their cheeks are paper.

Why, what read you there that has so cowarded and chased your blood out of

appearance? You are destroying this country!

Help me!

I do confess my fault and do submit me to your

Highness's mercy.

To which we all appeal.

A mercy that was quick in us but late.

By your own counsel is suppressed and killed.

You must not dare.

For shame to talk of mercy. For your own reasons turn into your bosoms as dogs

upon their masters gnawing you.

See you, my princes and my noble peers. These English monsters.

My lord of Cambridge, here.

You know how apt our love was to accord to furnish her with all accoutrements

belonging to her honour. And this lady hath for a few light crowns lightly

conspired and sworn unto the treachery of France to kill us in Southampton. To

the witch this knife.

No less for bounty bound to us than Cambridge's hath likewise sworn. But oh!

But shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop, thou cruel,

ungrateful, savage, and inhuman creature, thou that didst bear the

key of all my counsels, that knewest the very bottom of my soul, wouldst

thou have practised on me for thy use?

It's so strange.

That though the truth of it stands off as gross as black on white, my eye will

scarcely see it.

So men dutiful, why, so didst thou, seem they grave and learned?

Why, so didst thou, seem they religious?

Why, so didst thou, such didst thou see?

And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot that marks now every man and beast

alive with some suspicion.

I will weep for thee, for this revolt of thine methinks like another fall of

math. I arrest thee of high treason by the name of Earl of Cambridge.

I arrest thee of high treason by the name of Lord Scroop of Masham. I arrest

thee of high treason by the name of Thomas Gray, Knight of Northumberland.

I repent my fault more than my death, which I beseech your highness to

forgive, although my body pay the price of it.

For me the gold of France did not seduce, although I do admit it was a

motive the sooner to effect what I intended.

My fault, but not my body.

Pardon, sovereign.

God quit you in his mercy. Hear your sentence.

Touching our person, seek we no revenge.

But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, whose ruin you have sought, that

to her laws we do deliver you.

Get you therefore hence, poor, miserable wretches, to your death.

The taste whereof God of his mercy give you patience to endure.

Bear them hence.

Now for France, the enterprise whereof shall be for you as us, like glorious.

We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, since God so graciously hath brought to

light this dangerous treason lurking in our way.

Cheerily to see the signs of war advance.

No king of England, if not king of France.

Pray thee, honey, sweet husband, let me come with thee on the road to war. Let

me bring thee to stains.

Er, no.

For my manly heart doth grieve.

Bard off be merry.

Nim, rouse thy vaunting veins.

Boy. Girl.

Whatever.

Bristle thy courage up, for Falstaff, he is dead.

And we must mourn, therefore.

Would I were with him, wheresoever he is?

Either in heaven or in hell?

Aye. Nay, he's not in hell.

He's in Arthur's bosom.

Featherman went to Arthur's bosom.

He made a finer end and went away as if he'd been any Christian child.

He parted between 12 and 1.

Even at the turning of the tide for... After I saw him fumble with sheets and

play with flowers and...

smile upon his finger's end, I knew there was but one way.

For his nose was as sharp as a pen, and he babbled a green field.

How now, Sir John, said I, what man be a good cheer?

So he cried out, God, God, God, three or four times, and

I to comfort him bid he should not think of God.

I hope there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.

And so he... He bade me lay more clothes on his feet.

And I put my hand on the bed and felt them and they were as... cold as any

stone.

And then I felt to his knees and... and upward and upward and...

And all was as cold as any stone.

They say he repented his drinking.

Aye, that he did. And his women.

No, nay, that he did not.

Yes, that he did.

And said that they were devils incarnate. He did indeed in sort handle

women. Do you not remember?

He saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose.

He said it was a soul burning in hell.

The fuel's gone that maintained that fire.

They're the only riches I've got in his service.

I know.

Shall we shog?

King will be gone from Southampton. Yeah, come.

Let us away, my love.

Give me thy lips.

Look to our goods and our possessions.

Let censors rule, yeah? Trust none, for oaths are straws. Men's faiths are wafer

cakes, my duck. Oh, go, clear thy crystals.

York fellows in arms, let us to France.

Like horse leeches, my boys, to suck, to suck, the very blood to suck.

And that's not wholesome food, they say.

Farewell, hostess.

Nim, touch her soft mouth and march.

I, uh...

I cannot kiss.

That's the humour of it.

But... Adieu.

Let good housekeeping appear.

Keep thee close.

I thee command.

Farewell. Farewell.

So the English come upon us with all their forces.

And they bring us to the next entrance, to repost in our defense.

Also, the Dukes of Bury, of Brittany, of Brabant and of Orléans will leave as

soon as possible, as well as you, dolphins, to be able to reinforce our

places of war with men of courage and all defensive means.

And we must therefore take all the precautions that can advise us to fear,

in order to be able to leave on a plain the fatal English and too neglected.

And let's do it without showing any fear, without showing any more than if

we knew all of England was occupied with Morris Dancing and Maple.

Because, my suzerain, elle est si follement regie son sept si

grotesquement porté par un jouvenceau frivole étourdi

futile et capricieux qu'elle ne peut aspirer la crainte oh silence mon frère

dauphin quoi vous m'connaissez pas trop ce roi That your grace questions the

last ambassador, he will tell him with what high dignity he received the

embassy, of what noble advisor he was surrounded, that of reserve he showed in

his objections, and also that of terrible firmness in his resolution.

And you will recognize that these extravagances are past.

Come on, Catherine, my sister, we are not like this.

But no matter what we think, in case of defense, the best is to estimate the

enemy, more doubtful than it seems.

Because then we give all their extension to the defensive means.

Thank you.

From my brother England.

from him and thus he greets your majesty he wills you in the name of god almighty

that you divest yourself and lay apart the borrowed glories that by gift of

heaven by law of nature and of nations belong to him and to his heirs namely

the crown that you may know his is no sinister nor no awkward claim

from the wormholes of long vanished days he sends you this

this most memorable line in every

branch truly demonstrative willing you peruse this pedigree

and when you find him evenly derived from his most famed of famous

ancestors edward iii He bids you then resign your crown and kingdom,

indirectly held from him the native and true challenger.

Or else what follows?

Bloody constraint.

For if you hide the crown, even in your hearts, there will he rake for it.

therefore in fierce tempest is he coming in thunder and in earthquake like a god

that if requiring fail he will compel and bids you in the bowels of

the lord deliver up your crown and to take mercy on the poor

souls for whom this hungry war opens his vasty jaws and on your head turning the

widow's tears

the orphans cries the dead men's blood deprived maidens groans for husbands

fathers and betrothed lovers that shall be swallowed 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 for us we will

consider of this further

Tomorrow shall you bear our full intent back to our brother of England.

For the dauphin, I stand here for him. What to him from England?

Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt.

And anything that may not misbecome the mighty sender is how he prizes you. Thus

says my king, and if your father's highness do not in grant of all demands

at large sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, he'll call you to so

hot an answer of it that caves and woomy voltages of

France shall chide your trespass and return your mock.

Say if my father offer fair return, it is against my will, for I desire

nothing but odds with England.

And to this end, as matching to his youth and vanity, I did present

him with the Paris balls.

He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, 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 this shall you

read in your own losses if he remain in france

Tomorrow shall you know our mind at full.

Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king come here himself to question

our delay, for he is footed in this land already.

You shall be soon dispatched with fair conditions.

Bye-bye.

thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies in motion of no less

velocity than that of thought suppose that you have seen the well-appointed

king at dover pier embark his royalty

and as brave fleet with silken streamers fan the rising sun play with your

fancies and in them behold upon the hempen tackle ship-boys

climbing hear the shrill whistle which doth order give to sounds

confused

behold the thread and sails born with the invisible and creeping wind

draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea breasting the lofty surge

oh do but think you stand upon the shoreline and behold

a city on the inconstant billows

dancing

for so appears this fleet majestical holding due course to

harfleur follow follow grapple your

minds to sternage of this navy and leave your england as dead midnight still

guarded with grandsires babies and old women

for who is he whose chin is but enriched with one appearing hair that will not

follow these brave and choice-drawn cavaliers to france

work work your thoughts and

therein see a siege behold the cannons on their carriages with

fatal mouths gaping on girded harfleur

Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back, tells Harry that the king

doth offer him Catherine, his daughter, and with her, to dowry, some petty and

unprofitable dukedoms.

The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner with powder now the devilish

cannon touches, and down goes all before them.

Still be kind, and eke out our performance with your mind.

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and

humility but when the blast of war blows in our ears

Then imitate the action of the tiger.

Stiffen the sinews.

Summon up the blood.

Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage.

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect.

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide. Hold hard the breath and

bend up every spirit to his full height. On, on, you noblest English,

whose blood is forged from fathers of war-proof.

Dishonor, not your mothers, now attest that those whom you called fathers did

conceive you.

And you, good soldier, show us here the mettle of your pasture. Let us swear

that you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not, for there is none of you so

mean and base that hath not noble luster in his eyes.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start.

The game's afoot. Follow your spirit. And upon this charge, cry God for Harry,

England, and St. John!

Nox,

go and come. God's vassals drop and die.

Hands.

Touching hands.

Reaching out.

were in an ale house in London, I would give everything for a pot of ale in

safety. And I, sweet Caroline,

I'm going to preach, you hounds. I want you to come out.

Be merciful, great Jew, to men of mould.

Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage.

Whoa, abate thy rage, great Jew, good boy, use gentleness. Ah, sweet chug.

As young as I am, I've observed these three swashbucklers.

I am boy to them all three, but all they three, though they would defend me,

could not be man to me, for indeed three such crazies do not amount to a man.

anything and call it plunder.

Bardolph stole a loot-case, bore it twelve miles, and sold it for three

halfpence.

Nim and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they

stole a fire-shovel.

They would have me familiar with men's pockets, which goes much against my

morals, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine, for it is plain

pocketing up of wrongs.

I can't take it anymore.

I want to find a new father.

These three old men are so disgusting.

I can't take it anymore.

I'm going to throw up.

You must come presently to the mines. The Duke of Gloucester would speak with

you. To the mines?

Tell you the Duke, it is not right to use the mines. For, look you, the mines

is not according to the disciplines of the war.

By Jesus, you would blow a ball if it's not better directions.

The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is given, is

altogether directed by an Irishman, a very valiant soldier of faith.

It is Captain MacMorris, is it not?

I think it be.

By Jesus, she's an arse.

And I will prove as much. She has no more knowledge of the disciplines of

war, look you, of the Roman wars, than as a puppy dog. Here she comes.

And the Scots captain, Captain Jamie, with her. Oh, Captain Jamie's a

marvellous gentleman, that's for certain. And of great expedition and

knowledge in the ancient wars. Ach, I say, good day, Captain Clellan. Come in

the house.

Don't do your worship for Captain James.

How now, Captain McMorris? Have you quit the mines?

By Christ, it's ill done.

The work is give over. The trumpets sound the retreat.

By my hand, I swear, and my father's soul, the work is ill done.

It is give over.

I'd have blowed up the town in an hour, so Christ save me.

It is ill done. It is ill done by my hand. It is ill done. Captain McMorris,

I beseech you now. Will you vouchsafe me, look you, a few conversations with

you concerning the disciplines of the war?

The Roman wars?

By way of argument, look you, and a friendly communication, partly to

satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction of my mind in touching the

direction of the true military discipline.

That is the point. Ah, it shall be very good. Good faith. Good captains both,

aye. It is no time to discourse, O Christ save me. The day is hot, and the

weather, and the war, and the king, and the dukes. It is no time to discourse.

The town is besieged and we talk and bequests do nothing to shame for us all.

Mary, I would fullfine heard some conversation between you twa. Captain

MacMorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there's not

many of your nation.

My nation?

Yeah.

And what is my nation?

Eh?

You're a villain and a bastard and a knave and a rascal of my nation. Who

speaks of my nation? Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant,

Captain McMorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me with that

affability as indiscretion, look you. You ought to use me, being as good a

soldier as yourself, both in the disciplines of the war and in the

derivation of my birth and the...

Particularities? I do not know you so good a soldier as myself, so Christ save

me, I will chop off your head.

Captains both, you will mistake each other. Ah, that's a foul fault.

Town sounds a parley.

Captain Mark Morris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, I

would be so bold as to tell you, I know the disciplines of war.

And there's an end.

I yet resolves the governor of the town.

This is the final parley we will admit. Therefore, to our best mercy give

yourselves, or like to men proud of destruction, defy us to our worst.

For as I am a soldier, if I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the

half-achieved half-lure till in her ashes she lie buried.

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, and the fleshed soldier.

Rough and hard of heart, in liberty of bloody hands, shall range with

conscience, wide as hell, mowing like grass, your fresh fair virgins and your

flowering infants.

What is it then to me, if in pious war, due with his smarched complexion, all

fell feats? What is it to me, when you yourselves are cause, if your pure

maidens fall into the hand of hot and forcing violation?

Therefore, you men of Harfleur, take pity of your town and of your people

whilst yet my soldiers are in my command.

If not...

Why, in a moment look to see the blind and bloody soldier with foul hand desire

the locks of your shrill shrieking daughters, your fathers taken by the

silver beards and their most reverend heads, dust to the walls, your naked

infants spitted upon pikes whilst the mad mothers with their howls confused do

break the clouds of heaven crying mercy.

What say you?

Will you yield, and this avoid, or, guilty in defence, be thus destroyed?

Open your gates.

Come, Exeter, go you and enter Harfleur, there remain.

Fortify it strongly against the French.

Use mercy on them all for us.

The winter coming on and sickness growing upon our soldiers, we will

retire to Calais.

Tonight, in Hafla, we will be your guest.

Tomorrow, for the march, are we addressed.

You've been to England and you speak the language well. A little, madam.

I beg you, teacher, I have to learn to speak.

What do you call the hand in English? The hand?

It's called the hand.

The hand.

And the fingers? The fingers, ah.

Sometimes I forget the fingers, but I'll remember the fingers. I think they're

called the fingers.

Yes, the fingers.

La main, the hand, les doigts, the fingers.

Je pense que je suis le bon écolier. J'ai gagné deux mots d'anglais vitement.

Comment appelez-vous les ongles? Nous les appelons the nails.

Bien.

Écoutez, dites-moi si je parle bien.

The hand, the fingers et the nails.

C'est bien dit, madame. Il est fort bon anglais. Dites-moi l'anglais pour le

bras.

The hand,

the fingers, the nails, the arm, the bilbo!

Ah, de nick.

Madame? De nick. Et le montant?

De chine.

Le col de nick, le montant de chine. Oui, c'est votre nom. En vérité, vous

prononcez les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. Non, je doute point

d'apprendre par la grâce de Dieu et un peu de temps. Oh, n'avez-vous pas déjà

oublié ce que je vous ai enseigné? Non, je reciterai à vous promptement.

The hand, the finger, the nails. The nails, madame. Oh, the nails, the arm,

the billboard. The elbow.

The elbow.

The neck and the shin.

How do you call the foot and the dress?

The foot, madame, and the gown.

Oh, the foot and the gown.

Oh, but those are words of his mother.

Corruptible, big and impudent. And not for the ladies of honor.

Je voudrais prononcer les mots pour tous les seigneurs de France, pour tout le

monde. Le fougue et le coude.

Néanmoins, je reciterai ma leçon ensemble.

The hand, the fingers, the nails, the arm, the elbow, the neck, the shin, le

fougue et le coude.

Excellent, madame.

Bon, c'est assez pour une fois. Allons-nous à dîner?

Madame la connettable, il est certain qu'il a passé la somme. Et si l'on ne

combat pas, monseigneur, renonçons à vivre en France.

Abandonnons tout et livrons nos vignobles à un peuple barbare.

Bâtards normands, rien que des normands, des normands bâtards.

Mort dans ma vie.

S'ils poursuivent la marche sans opposition, je veux vendre ma duché pour

acheter une porpeuse et sale femme dans cette île de bloody England.

Dieu des batailles, ouf!

Ah, l'honneur et la foi. Non, madame se moque de nous.

Elles disent hautement que notre fougue est tabou et qu'elles abandonneront

leurs personnes à la luxure de la jeunesse English pour repeupler la

France de guerriers bâtards.

Où est mon joie, le héros?

Dépêchez-le vite, qu'on irait saluer l'Anglais de notre insultant défi.

Arrêtez ce henri d'Angleterre qui balaie nos plaines avec des pénantins de sang d

'affleur.

Recipitez-vous celui.

You have enough strength. And in a captive chariot, take him to Rouen,

prisoner. This is the language of greatness.

Also, Madame the Connaught, hurry quickly, my joy, and declare to the

English that we want to know what ransom he is ready to give us.

Prince Dauphin, you will stay with us in Rouen. Oh, no.

No, no, I swear, Your Majesty, no.

Be patient, because you will stay with us.

Sur ce, Madame la Connétable, et vous, Prince, en marche, et rapportez-nous

vite la nouvelle de la chute de l'Anglais.

Debout, Prince, et armé dans esprit d'honneur plus acéré que beaux épées,

courez au combat.

madame charles d'arbray grand connetable de france et vous duc d'orléans de

brabant et de berry alençon brabant bar et bougogne jacques chatillon

rambure vaudemont beaumont grand-pré roussy fauconbert foire lestel

boussicaut et charolais oh duc grand prince baron

seigneur chevalier

of your greatness wash you of this great shame

How now, Captain Conwellan?

Come you from the bridge?

I can assure you, there's very excellent services committed at the bridge.

Is the Duke of Exeter safe?

The Duke of Exeter is a soldier that I love with my soul and my heart and my

duty and my life and my living and my utmost power.

She is not, I'll go with my other bead, any hurt in the world and keeps our

bridge most valiantly with excellent discipline.

There's an ancient lieutenant there at the bridge.

I've no estimation in the world, but I did see him do us gallant service.

What do you call him?

He's called Ancient Pistol.

I know him not.

Hey, here's the man.

Captain, I beseech thee to do me favours. The Duke of Exeter doth love

thee well.

Aye, I praise God, and I have merited some love at her hands.

Bardolph. a soldier firm and sound of heart and of buxom valour have by cruel

fate and giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel that goddess blind that stands

upon the rolling restless by your patience fortune is painted blind to

signify that fortune is blind yes very good also she is painted

with a wheel to signify to you which is the moral of it that she is turning

and inconstant and mutability and variation.

Fortune's an excellent moral.

Fortune is Bardolph's foe and frowns on her. For she has stolen a golden cross

from her church and hanged must she be. A damned death.

Let gallows gate for dog and let woman go free and let not hemp her windpipe

suffocate. But Exeter had given the doom of death for a cross of little price,

therefore go speak.

The Duke will hear thy voice, and let not Bardal's vital thread be cut with a

cord. Speak now for Bardal's life, and I will thee requite. Ancient pistol, I do

partly understand your meaning. Why then rejoice, therefore.

Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at, for if, look you, she were

my brother, I would desire the Duke to stick to her regulations and put her to

execution. Die!

and be damned a finger for thy friendship. It is well... The Spanish

finger. In your bowels and then in your mouth.

Very good.

Captain Gower, can you hear it, Thunder?

Why, is this the ensign you told me of? Aye.

I remember him now.

A bored, cut person.

I can assure you, I heard him utter as brave words at that bridge as you'll

hear in a summer's day.

"'Tis very well what you said to me now. "'Tis well, I warrant, when time is

served." Why, he's a gull, a fool, a rogue, one that goes to the wars to

grace himself at his return into London under the form of a soldier and brags of

where services were done, such and such a battle, such a breach.

Who came off bravely? Who was shot? Who disgraced? What terms the enemy stood

on? And what such stories will do among London's foaming bottles and air-washed

wits is wonderful to be thought on, but you must learn to know such tricksters,

or else you may be marvellously mistook.

I tell you what, Captain Gower, I do perceive he is not the man that you

would gladly make so to the world that he is.

I'll tell him my mind.

Hey, hark you, the King is coming. I must speak with him from the bridge.

God please you, Mubster.

And now, Captain Llewellyn.

Come start from the bridge. Aye, so please, Your Majesty.

The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintained the bridge.

The French have gone away, look here.

Marie, the enemy had possession of the bridge, but he is forced to retire, and

Exeter is master of the bridge.

I can tell Your Majesty, your aunt is a brave woman.

What men have you lost, Llewellyn? The enemy's losses have been very great.

Reasonable great.

Mary, for my part, I think Exeter hath lost never a soldier.

Oh, but for one who is like to be hanged for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if

your majesty know the soldier.

Her face is all carbuncles and whelks and knobs and flames of fire.

Her nose is like a coal of fire, sometimes blue and sometimes red.

But her nose is to be executed.

And her fire put out.

We would have all such offenders so cut off.

And we give express charge that in our marches through the country there be

nothing stolen from the villages.

Nothing taken but paid for.

None of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful language. For when

kindness and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest

winner.

You know me by my habit.

What should I know of thee?

My master is mine.

Unfold it.

Thus says my king.

Say thou to Harry of England, though we seem dead, we did but sleep.

Advantage is a better soldier than rashness.

Tell him we could have rebuked him at Arfleur.

Now we speak upon our cue and our voice is imperial.

England shall repent his folly and see his weakness.

Bid him therefore consider of his ransom which must proportion the losses we have

borne, the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested.

For our losses his exchequer is too poor, for the effusion of our blood, the

muster of his kingdom, to faint a number, and for our disgrace, his own

person kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction.

To this, at defiance, and tell him for conclusion,

he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is pronounced.

So far my king, my master, so much my office.

What is thy name?

I know thy quality.

Mount Joy.

Thou dost thy office fairly.

Turn thee back and tell thy king I do not seek him now, but could be willing

to march on to Calais without impeachment, for, to say the truth,

though tis no wisdom to confess so much unto an enemy of craft and vantage,

my people are with sickness much enfeebled, my numbers

lessened, and those few I have almost no better than so many French.

When they were in health, I tell thee, Harold, I thought one pair of English

legs could fight three Frenchmen.

Yet forgive me, God, that I do brag thus.

I must repent.

By the right!

Quick, march!

Go, therefore.

Tell thy master here I am.

My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk, my army.

but a weak and sickly god yet god before tell him we will march on

go bid thy master well advise himself if we may pass we will turn if we

be hindered we shall your tawny ground with your red blood discolor shoulder

arms and so mon joie fare you well

the sum of all our answer is but this

We would not seek a battle as we are, nor as we are we say we will not shun

it. Open order, march.

So tell thy master.

I shall deliver so.

Thanks to your highness. I hope they will not come

upon us now.

We're in God's hands, brother, nothing theirs.

March to the bridge. Present arms.

It now draws toward night.

Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves and on tomorrow, bid them march away.

Ugh!

Thank you.

entertain conjecture of a time when creeping murmur and the pouring dark

fills the wide vessel of the universe.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, the hum of either army's

stilly sounds that the fixed sentinels almost receive, the secret whispers

of each other's watch.

Fire answers fire.

and through their pale flames each army sees the other's shadowy face steed

threatened steed in high and boastful neighs piercing the knights dull ear

and from the tents the armourers accomplishing the knights

with busy hammers closing rivets up give dreadful note of

preparation

Proud of their numbers and secure in soul, the confident and over

-lusty French do the low-rated English play at dice and chide the lagging,

tardigated knight.

The poor, condemned English, like sacrifices

by their watchful fires, sit patiently.

and inly ruminate the morning's danger.

Ah, the morning will never come.

Monseigneur d'Orléans, you, Madame la Conneta, you speak of horse and armor.

You are, these two reports, as good for you as any prince.

You show.

Oh, what a long night that this is.

I would not charge my horse for any animal walking on which pasture.

It has bounced from the earth as if it were full of fear. It is the flying

horse. The Pegasus with the nostrils of fire. When I climb it, I fly.

I am a phoenix.

It trots in the air. The earth sings when it touches it.

It has the color of the muscat. And the heat of the ginger.

Hey, here's a horse.

All the other beasts, you can call them roses.

Indeed, my lord, it is a very perfect and very excellent horse.

It's the prince of the palefroids.

His annihilation is like the commandment of a monarch, and his contentment forces

the tribute.

Enough cousin!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Make grains of sand as eloquent as my tongue, and my horse will be an argument

for all.

One day, I wrote to your praise a sonnet that began like this.

Wonder of nature.

I heard a sonnet from a mistress that began the same.

Well, we would have imitated the one I composed for you, my horseman, my horse

and my horse.

Your line is a good lie.

Yes, yes, for me, for me.

That's where the merit is required, the perfection of a good and dignified

woman. Madam, the wall that I saw in your throne this night, are they stars

or sunsets?

Stars, sir.

She will fall tomorrow, a few, I hope. And yet there will be enough for my

proud mother.

Ce qui ne sera jamais jour.

Je veux demain trotter un mille et que ma route soit pavée de front English.

Je voudrais qu'il fût jour.

Il est minuit.

Je vais m'armer.

Il tarde de fin d'avoir le jour. Il lui tarde de manger de l'anglais. Je crois

qu'il en mangera tout ce qu'il en tuera.

Il n'a jamais fait de mal, que je sache. Et demain, il n'en fera pas non plus.

Il conservera toujours cette bonne renommée-là.

Madame la comptable, les Anglais ne sont pas de votre trente. À présent, il est

temps de nous armer. Allons, venez-vous.

Il est maintenant deux heures.

Mais voyons, avant dix heures, nous aurons chacun notre centaine d'Anglais.

Gloucester, it is true that we are in great danger. The greater, therefore,

should our courage be.

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Harpingham.

A good soft pillow for that good aged head were better than the churlish turf

of France.

Not so, my liege. This lodging likes me better. Since I may say, now lie I like

a king.

It is good for men to love their present pains.

Let me thy cloak, Sir Thomas.

Brother, commend me to the princes in our camp. I shall, my liege. Shall I

attend your grace?

No, my good knight. Go with my brother to my lords of England. I and my bosom

must debate a while, and then I would no other company.

The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry.

God have mercy, old heart.

Thou speakest cheerfully.

behold the royal captain of this ruined band walking from watch to watch

from tent to tent for forth he goes and visits all his host bids them

good morrow with a modest smile and calls them brothers friends

and countrymen upon his royal face there is no note how dread an

army they will tomorrow face

A largesse universal, like the sun, His liberal eye doth give to

every one, Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all

behold, A little touch of Harry in the night.

Ahem. Ahem.

Ahem. Qui vous l'a? A friend.

Discuss unto me.

Art thou officer?

Or art thou base, common, and popular?

I am a gentleman of a company. What are you?

As good a gentleman as the emperor.

Then you are better than the king?

No.

The king's a heart of gold, a lad of life, an imp of fame, of

parents good, of fist most valiant.

I'd kiss his dirty shoe.

And from heartstring...

I love the lovely bully.

What is thy name?

Harry Leroy.

Oh, Leroy.

A Cornish name.

Art thou of Cornish crew?

No, I am a Welshman. Oh, for fuck's sake.

Nost thou...

Llywelyn? Yes? Yeah, yeah, tell him I'll knock a leek about his head upon St

David's Day. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he knock that

about yours.

Art thou his friend? And his kinsman, too. Oh, well, a finger for thee, then.

I thank you.

God be with you. Yeah, my name is Pistol Cold. It's all swell with your

fierceness. Yeah.

Captain Llywelyn. So, in the name of Jesus Christ, speak through her.

If you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great,

you shall find that there's no tittle-tattle nor pibble-babble in

Pompey's camp.

I warrant you shall find the ceremonies of the war and the cares of it and the

forms of it and the sobriety of it to be otherwise.

Why, the enemy is loud.

You hear him all night.

Oh, so, um, if the enemy is an ass... and a fool and a prating cockscomb, is

it meet, think you, that you should also, look you, be an ass and a fool and

a prating cockscomb in your good conscience now?

I shall speak lower. I pray you and beseech you that you will.

Though it appear a little out of fashion, there is much care and valour

in this Welshman.

Look, is that not the morning which breaks yonder?

I think it be, but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.

We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I don't think we'll see the end of

it. Who goes there? A friend.

Under what captain serve you?

Under Sir Thomas Arpingham.

A good commander and most kind gentleman. I pray you, what think ye of

our estate?

Oh, even as men wrecked upon a sand that looked to be washed off the next tide.

He hath not told his thoughts of the king. No, nor it is not meet he should.

For though I speak it to you, I think the king is but a man as I am.

And the violet smells to him as it doth to me.

His ceremony's laid by, and his nakedness he appears.

But a man, therefore, when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears,

out of doubt, be of the same metal as ours are. He may show what outward

courage he will, but I believe, as cold a night as tis, he could wish himself in

Thames up to neck.

And so I would he were, and I'd buy him, so we were quit here.

By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the king.

I think he would not wish himself anywhere but where he is. Then I would

he were here alone, and a many a poor man's life saved.

I dare say you love him not so ill to wish him here alone.

Methinks I could not die anywhere, so contented as in the king's company, his

cause being just and his quarrel honourable.

That's more than we know. Aye, or more than we should seek after.

For we know enough if we know we are the king's subject.

If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes the crime of us out of

us. And if his cause be not good, the king hath a heavy reckoning to make.

When all those legs and arms and heads chopped off in battle shall join

together on the latter day and cry all, we died at such a place.

Some swearing.

some crying out for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poorly behind, some

upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I am afeard there

are few that die well die in battle, and if these men do not die well, it will be

a black matter for the king that led them to it.

The king is not bound to answer for the particular endings of his soldiers, for

they purpose not their death when they purpose their services.

Besides, there is no king, be his cause never so spotless, if it come to the

battle of swords, can try it out with an army of sinless soldiers.

Some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of premeditated and contrived

murder, some of beguiling virgins with perjury, some of making the wars their

commerce, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage and

robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law and outrun national punishment,

though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God.

War is his beetle.

War is his vengeance.

Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subject's soul is his own.

Therefore, should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed,

wash every mote out of his conscience, and dying so, death to him is advantage.

Tis certain.

Every man that dies ill, the ill upon his own head, the king is not to answer

it. I do not desire he should answer for me, and yet I'm determined to fight

lustily for him. I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed.

I said so to make us fight cheerfully.

But when our throats are cut, he may be ransomed and we ne'er the wiser. If I

live to see it, I'll never trust his word after.

Oh, you'll never trust his word after?

Comet is a foolish saying. Your reproof is something too round.

I should be angry with you if the time were convenient. Oh, let there be a

quarrel between us if you live. I embrace it.

How will I know thee again?

Give me.

Any token of thine, if thou ever dare acknowledge it, I will make it my

quarrel.

Here's my glove.

Give me one of thine.

If ever thou come to me after tomorrow and

say this is my glove, I swear I will take thee a box on the ear. If ever I

live to see it, I will challenge it.

though I take thee in the king's company.

Keep thy word.

Fare thee well. Be friends, you English fools, be friends.

We have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to reckon.

Indeed, upon the king.

Let us, our lives, our souls...

Our debts, our careful wives, our children and our sins lay on the king.

We must bear all.

What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect that private men enjoy?

And what have kings that privates have not to save ceremony?

Save general ceremony.

And what art thou?

Thou idle ceremony. What are thy rents?

What are thy comings in? O ceremony, show me but thy worth.

Art thou, or else, but place, degree, and form, creating awe and fear in other

men, wherein thou art less happy being feared than they in fearing?

What drinkest thou oft?

Instead of homage sweet but poisoned flattery, be sick great

greatness and bid thy ceremony give thee cure.

Thinkest thou the fiery fever will go out with titles blown

from adulation?

Canst thou?

When thou sees a broken beggar's knee, command the health of it. No, thou proud

dream that playest so subtly with a king's repose. I am a king that find

thee.

And I know it is not the balm, the scepter and the ball, the sword, the

mace, the crown imperial, the multi-tissued robe of gold and pearl,

the throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp.

that beats upon the high shore of this world. No, not all these.

Thrice gorgeous ceremony. Not all these.

Laid in bed, majestical, can sleep so soundly

as the wretched man who with body filled and vacant mind

gets him to rest.

Crammed with his homemade bread, never sees horrid night.

child of hell, and follow so the ever-running year with profitable labour

to his grave and but for ceremony.

Such a wretch, winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,

has the same face and countenance as a king.

The peasant.

who celebrates his country's peace, enjoys it, but in his brain

he little knows what watch the king keeps to maintain the peace, whose hours

the peasant best advantages. My lord,

your nobles, jealous of your absence, seek throughout your camp to find you.

Good old night.

Collect them all together at my tent. I'll be before them. I shall do it, my

lord.

O God of battles, steal my soldiers' hearts.

Possess them not with fear.

Take from them now their sense of reckoning, ere their opposed numbers

pluck their hearts from them.

My liege.

My cousin Westmoreland's voice.

Ay, I know thy errand.

I will go with thee.

The day, my friends.

And all things stay for me.

Go! To the quay! To the quay! To the quay!

To the quay! To the quay! To the

quay!

You want them to cry the blood of our horses?

How will we distinguish their natural blade?

Father of France!

The English are at work.

Just look at this group of hungry people and your martial appearance is going to

devour their souls, leaving them with only the envelope and the human body.

There is not enough work for all our arms.

Let's blow, only on them, and the vapor of our will must be reversed.

Why are you waiting so long? They have said their prayers.

They are waiting for death.

Where is the king?

The king himself is rode to view their battle.

Fighting men, they have full 60,000.

That's five to one.

Besides, they all are fresh.

God's arms strike with us.

Tis fearful odds.

God be with you, princes all. I'll to my charge.

If we no more meet till we meet in heaven, then joyfully, my dear Lord

Gloucester, and my kind kinsmen, warriors all, adieu.

Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee.

Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today.

She's as valorous as she is kind.

Oh, that we now had here but one ten thousand of those men in England that do

no work today.

What's he that wishes so?

Your Majesty.

My cousin Westmoreland.

No, my fair cousin.

If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country lost.

And if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Job, I am not covetous for gold.

It yearns me not if men my garments wear. Such outward things dwell not in

my desires.

But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending

soul alive.

Ah, faith, my cars.

Wish not a man from England.

God's peace I would not lose. So great an honour as one man more methinks would

share from me. Oh, do not wish one more.

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, that he which hath no

stomach to this fight, let him depart.

His passport shall be made.

crowns for transport home put in his purse, we would not die in that man's

company that fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is called the Feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day and comes safe home will stand a tiptoe when this day

is named and rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall see this day and live old age will yearly on the vigil feast his

neighbors and say, tomorrow is St. Crispian.

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.

Old men forget yet all.

shall be forgot but he'll remember with advantages what feats he did that day

then shall our names familiar in his mouth is household words harry the king

bedford and exeter warwick and talbot salisbury and gloucester be in their

flowing cups freshly remembered this story shall the good man teach his son

And crisp and crispy ends shall ne'er go by from this day to the ending of the

world, but we in it shall be remembered.

We few.

We happy few.

We band of brothers.

For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.

Be he now so vile, this day will gentle his condition.

And gentlemen, In England, now abed, so think themselves accursed they were not

here, and hold their manhoods cheap, whilst any speaks that fought with us

upon St.

Crispin's Day.

Yes! Sovereign Lord, bestow yourself with speed. The French are bravely in

their battles set, and will with all expedience charge on us. All things be

ready, if our minds be so. Perish the man whose mind is backward now.

That does not wish more help from England, cut.

God's will my liege, that you and I alone, without more help, could fight

this royal bastard. Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men, which likes

me better than to wish us one.

You know your places.

God be with you all.

Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry, if for thy ransom thou wilt

negotiate before thy most assured overthrow.

Who hath sent thee now? The constable of France.

I pray thee, bear my former answer back, bid them defeat me and then sell my

bones. Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?

Let me speak proudly.

Tell the constable we are but warriors for the working day.

Our gayness and our guilt are all besmirched with rainy marching in the

painful field, but by the mass our hearts are in the trim.

Herald.

Save thou thy labour.

Comst thou no more for ransom, they shall have none, I swear, but these my

joints, which if they have, as I will leave them them, shall yield them

little. Tell the constable.

I shall, King Harry.

And so, fare thee well.

Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

and so our scene must to the battle fly where oh for pity we shall much

disgrace with four or five most vile and ragged swords all poorly staged in

brawl ridiculous the nay of agincourt yet sit and see

minding true things how bad our mockeries be my lord most humbly on my

knee i beg the leading of the vanguard

Take it, brave youth.

Now soldiers, march away, and how it pleaseth God, dispose the dead.

How do you know how to throw home the old

moon?

Oh, God, guess who paid me the price

for treating me like this?

You are a nice man of good quality.

Ah, the Frenchman.

Where is the camping?

Are thou a gentleman?

What is thy name? Discuss. Oh, seigneur Dieu. Oh, seigneur, you could be a

gentleman. Attend my words, oh seigneur Dieu. And mark, oh seigneur Dieu, thou

diest on point a fox.

Except, oh seigneur, thou dost give to me enormous ransom.

Why?

Moi shall not serve.

I shall have forty mois, or I'll fetch thy anus out of thy throat in drops of

crimson blood.

Brass! Thou damned and luxurious mountain girl. Thou'st obviously brass,

not gold. Pardonnez-moi.

Say thou'st me so. Boy, come hither. And that's this punk in French.

What her name is.

Ecoutez, comment êtes-vous appelée? Madame Lefebvre. She says her name is

Madame Feu. Oh, Madame Feu.

How fair her.

and fur-cur and ferret-hur discuss the same in French unto her. I do not know

the French for fur and ferret and fur.

Yeah, well, bid her prepare, for I will cut your throat.

What are her words? She prays you to save her life, and for her ransom she

will give you 200 crowns. Ah, tell her my fury shall abate, and I the crowns

will take.

Expand unto me, boy. She gives you upon her knees a thousand thanks and counts

herself happy that she have fallen into the hands of the most brave?

Yeah.

Valeris. Yes.

And thrice worthy signor of England. As I suck blood, some mercy will I show.

You follow me?

Suivez-vous, le grand capitaine.

What cow!

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart.

But the saying is true.

The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.

Bardolph and Nim had ten times more valor than this roaring devil, but they

are both hanged.

I must stay with the lackeys with the luggage of the camp.

oh hold

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! The day is lost! Everything is lost!

Oh, my bad fortune!

Hey! Don't run away!

All the kings are gone!

Is that the king we demanded ransom from? Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

My breath.

countrymen, but all's not done, yet keep the French the field. The Duke of York

commends her to your majesty.

Live she, good Exeter.

thrice within this hour i saw her down thrice up again and fighting from helmet

to the spur all blood she was in which array brave soldier doth she lie larding

the plain and by her bloody side the noble earl of suffolk also lies suffolk

first died and york all haggled over comes to him where in gore he lay

ensteeped and takes him by the beard kisses the gashes that bloodily did yawn

upon his face she cries aloud tarry my cousin suffolk my soul shall thine keep

company to heaven upon these words i came and tried to cheer her she smiled

me in the face gave me her hand and with a feeble grip says dear my lady

Commend my service to my sovereign. So did she turn, and over Suffolk's neck

she threw her wounded arms and kissed his lips, a testament of noble ending

love. The pretty and sweet manner of it forced those waters from me, which I

would have stopped, but I had not so much of man in me.

And all my mother came into mine eyes and gave me up to tears.

I blame you not.

For hearing this, I must perforce compound with my full eyes, or they will

issue to.

At heart, when you allow them, is this saying, the French have reinforced their

scattered men.

Kill the boys.

Unsteal the luggage.

Tis expressly against the rules of Bartle.

Tis as aren't a piece of knavery, Marky. Nowhere else can be thought of in your

conscience, is it not?

Tis certain there's not a boy left alive.

And the cowardly rascals that ran from the bow have done this slaughter.

I was not angry since I came to France until this instant.

Harold, ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill.

If they will fight with us, bid them come down. If not, void the field. They

do offend our sight.

If not, we will come to them and make them skier away as swift as stones.

Besides...

Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have, and not a man of them that we

shall take shall taste our mercy.

Go and tell them so.

Go!

And every soldier kills his prisoners.

Give the word, and once more we shall chart.

Tis expressly against the rules of battle.

Oh, tis a gallant king.

Aye.

He was born at Monmouth.

Captain Gower, what calls you the town's name where Alexander the Great was born?

I think Alexander the Great was born at Macedon.

I tell you, Captain, if you look in the maps of the world... You shall find, I

warrant you, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the

situations, look you, is both alike.

There is a river in Macedon, and also, moreover, there's a river at Monmouth.

It is called the Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my brains what the other one

is called. But it is all one.

It is as alike as my fingers is to my fingers.

And there is salmons in both.

If you follow Alexander's life well, Harry Monmouth's life has come after it

in different well.

Alexander, God knows and you knows, in his wraths and his furies and his rages

and being a little intoxicated in his brains, did, in his wraths and his

rages, kill his best friend.

Oh, King is not like him in that. He never killed any of his friends. It is

not well done, Mark you. Marry you, take the tale from my tongue. It is made and

finished. As Alexander...

Killed his best friend, being in his ales and his cups. So Harry Monmouth,

being in his right wits and his good judgements, did send away the

fat knight with the great belly doublet.

He was full of jests and japes and knaveries and mocks. I forgot his name.

Sir John Falstaff.

That is he.

It is not well done, Mark you.

Here comes the Herald of the French, my liege.

His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

And now, Herald, comest thou again for ransom?

No, great king, I come to thee for charitable license,

that we may wander o'er this bloody field to count our

dead and then to bury them.

or give us leave a great king to view the field in safety and to dispose of

their dead bodies.

I tell thee truly, herald, I know not if the day be ours or no, for yet are many

of your horsemen peer and gallop o'er the field. The day is yours.

What is this castle called to stand hard by?

They call it Agincourt.

Then call we this the field of Agincourt, fought on the day of Crispin

Crispianus.

Your grandfather, a famous memory, if it please your grace, and your great-uncle

Edward, the Black Prince of Wales.

They fought the most brave battle here in France. He did, Llywelyn! Ah, Your

Majesty, speak very true. And if Your Majesty be remembered of it, the

Welshmen did good service in a field where leeks did grow, wearing a leek in

their cups, which, Your Majesty, know to this hour is an honourable badge of the

service. And I do believe, Your Majesty, take no scorn to wear the leek upon St

Davies Day. I wear it for a memorable honour, for I am Welsh, you know, good

countryman. All the water in the wye cannot wash Your Majesty's Welsh blood

from your body, I can tell you that.

God bless it and preserve it, so long as it pleases Grace and Your Majesty too.

Thanks, good my countryman. Aye, by Jesus, I am your countryman.

I don't care who knows it, aye.

I'll confess it to the whole world.

Cymru ambeth!

Mine!

What? Sorry.

Our heralds go with him.

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead on both our paths.

Call yonder fellow hither.

Soldier, you must come to the king.

Soldier! Why wear thou that glove?

If it please your majesty, it is the token of one that I should fight withal,

if he be alive.

An Englishman?

If it please your majesty, a rascal that did swagger with me last night, who, if

alive, never dare to challenge this glove. I've sworn him a box on the ear.

What think you, Captain Llewellyn? Is it fit this soldier keep her of?

She be a craven and a villain also, please, your majesty.

It may be her. Enemy is a gentleman of great sort.

Why, though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, mind your grace, she keep

her vow and her oath. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow.

So I will, my liege, as I live.

Whose service thou under?

Under Captain Gower, my liege.

Gower's a good captain.

and his good knowledge and literature in the wars.

Give me thy club, soldier.

T'was I, indeed, thou promised to strike.

So please, your majesty, let her neck answer for it. How canst thou make me

satisfaction?

All offences, my lord, come from the heart, and never came any from mine that

would offend your majesty.

It was ourself.

How didst abuse?

You came to me not like yourself.

You appeared to me but as a common man, witnessed the night, your garments, your

lowliness, for had you been as I took you for, I made no offence.

Therefore I beseech your majesty, pardon me.

Here, Exeter.

Fill this club with crowns and give it to this fellow.

Yeah, keep it, fellow.

Yeah, give her the crowns.

Hey, Captain, thou must needs be friends with her.

Hey,

hold, hold.

Here's 12 pence for you. I will none of your money.

Hey, it is with a goodwill.

You will serve to mend your shoes. Your shoes are not so good.

Now, Harold, at the dead number.

Here is the list of the slaughtered French.

What prisoners of good sort are taken, Exeter?

Of lords and barons, noble knights and squires, full 1,500, besides

common men.

This note doth tell me all.

10,000 French that in the field lie slain. Well, here is a royal fellowship

of death.

And what of the English dead?

But 5 and 20.

Oh, God, thy arm was here.

And not to us, but to thy arm alone ascribe we all.

Take it, God, for it is none but thine.

Tis wonderful.

Come, go we in procession to the village, and be at death proclaimed to

boast of this, or take that praise from God which is his only.

Ay, by my conscience he did us great good. Do we all holy rites?

Let there be sung non nobis ante Deum, the dead with charity enclosed in clay,

and then to Calais, and to England then, where ne'er from France arrive more

happy men.

for those of you who do not know our story, that I may prompt them.

And of all those as do, I humbly pray them to accept the excuse of time, of

numbers, and due course of things, which cannot in their huge and proper life be

here presented.

Now, we bear the king to Ad Calais.

Grant him there.

There seen, heave him away upon your winged thoughts athwart the sea.

Behold, the English beach pales in the flood with men, wives, and boys, who

shouts and claps out voice the deep-mouthed sea. So let him land, and

solemnly see him set on to London. So swift a pace hath thought that even now

you may imagine him upon Blackheath, where that his lords desire him to have

carried his bruised helmet and his bended sword before him through the

city. He forbids it.

being free from vainness and self-glorious pride giving full trophy

signal and ostent quite from himself to god now behold in the quake forge and

working-house of thought how london doth pour out her citizens

The mayor and all his brethren in best sort go forth and fetch their conquering

Caesar. In much more and much more cause did they this Harry.

Now in London plays him, as yet the grief of the defeated French makes the

King of England stay at home until the Emperor intercedes for France and asks

for peace between them, and omit all occurrences, whatever chanced, till

Harry is back, returned again to France.

There must we bear him.

And myself have played the interim by remembering you these facts.

Then forgive abridgment, and your eyes advance, after your thoughts, straight

back again to France.

Why have you your leak today?

St Davies' Day is past.

There is occasions and causes, whys and wherefores in all things.

I will tell you as my friend.

That rascally scald...

beggarly, lousy, bragging-nave pistol, look you. Now, of no merits, he has come

to me and brings me bread and salt yesterday, look you, and bids me eat my

leek.

Yeah. Well, he was in a place where I could not fight with him, but I will be

so bold as to bear it until I see him once again.

And I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

Why, here he comes.

Puffed like a turkey cock.

Tis no matter for his swellings or his turkey cock.

Oi, oi, Llewellyn. Oi, oi, Pistol. Oi, oi, oi.

God bless you, ancient Pistol.

You scurvy, lousy knave. God bless you.

Aren't thou mad? Hence, I am sick at the smell of leek.

I beseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave.

At my requests.

And my desires and my petitions.

To eat, look you, this leek.

Because, look you, you do not love it. No. No, your affections and your

appetites and your digestion does not agree with it. I would desire you to eat

it. Not for all the worried sheep in Wales.

Here's a sheep for you.

Would you be so good, Nev, as eat it? Best Trojan now shall die. I will desire

you to live in the meantime and eat your victuals. Come, there is sauce for it.

I pray you, fall to.

If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

Enough, Captain, you've astonished him. I say, I will make him eat part of my

leek or I will beat his head.

Bite, I pray. It's good for your wounds. Must I bite? Oh, yeah, certainly.

And out of doubt, and out of question too, and ambiguities.

By this leak, I will most horribly revenge.

And eat, and eat, I swear, I swear, I swear. Yeah.

Yeah, eat, I pray.

Oh, God.

Will you have some more sauce to your leek?

There's not enough leek to swear by.

Quite I could till now to see I eat. Nay, nay, pray you throw none away.

Now,

when you take occasion to see leeks you're after, I pray you

mock at them.

That is all.

Good. Aye, leeks is good.

Hold you Here is a penny.

Yeah to heal your head Yeah, Verily and in truth you shall take it. No,

all right another leak in my pocket and you shall eat God

be with you and keep you

and heal your head

All hell shall stand for this!

Will you mock at an ancient Welsh tradition

begun upon in honourable respect and worn as a treasured memory of pre

-deceased valour?

I've seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice.

You thought because he could not speak English in the native fashion He could

not therefore handle an English cudgel.

Fare you well.

Doth fortune play the housewife with me now?

News have I that my Nell is dead in the hospital.

of the pox, and so my rendezvous quite cut off.

Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs honour is cudgel'd.

Bored I'll turn, and something lean to cut purse a quick hand.

To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.

And patches will I get unto these cudgeled scars, and say I got them in

the French wars.

Peace to this meeting wherefore we are met.

And to our brother France, health and fair time of day, joy and good wishes to

our most fair and princely cousin Catherine. We do salute you, Duke of

Burgundy, and princes French and Piers.

Health to you all.

Right joyous are we to behold your face, most worthy brother England.

Fairly met.

And you, princes English, every one.

Frères d'Angleterre, puisse l'issue de cette belle journée et de cette

gracieuse entrevue être aussi heureux que nous sommes aises de contempler vos

yeux. Ces yeux qui jusqu'ici ont lancé contre les Français, placés à leur

portée le fatal éclair du meurtrier basilique.

Nous espérons bien que le venin de ce regard a perdu sa force et que cette

journée changera tant de douleur et de discorde.

To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

Prince Anglais, I salute you.

My duty to you both on equal love, great kings of France and England, that I have

laboured with all my wits, my pains and strong endeavours to bring your most

imperial majesties unto this bar and royal interview.

What rub?

Or what impediment there is, that now 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?

If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace which you have cited, you must buy

that peace, with full accord to all our just demands you have inscheduled

briefly in your hands.

The king has heard them.

To the witches yet there is no answer made. Well, then.

The peace which you before so urged lies in his answer. I have but with a

cursatory eye or a glance the articles.

Pleaseth your grace to appoint some of your counsel presently to sit with us

once more with better heed to resurvey them.

We will suddenly pass our accept and peremptory answer. Brother, we shall.

Go, Exeter, and you, Brother Gloucester, and you, Clarence, Warwick, and Talbot,

go with the king, and take with you free power to ratify, augment, or alter, as

your wisdom's best shall see advantageable for our dignity, and we'll

consign thereto.

Oh, but leave our fair cousin Catherine.

She is our capital demand, the first comprised within all our articles.

She hath good leave.

Fair Catherine, and most fair, will you attempt to teach a soldier words such

as will enter at a lady's ear and plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?

Your Majesty shall mock at me. I cannot speak your England.

Oh, fair Catherine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart,

I will be glad to hear you confess it, brokenly, in your English tongue.

Do you like me, Kate?

Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell what is like me. An angel is like you, Kate, and

you are like an angel.

Que dit-il?

Que je suis semblable à les hommes. Oui, vraiment, ainsi dit-il. I said so, dear

Catherine, I must not blush to affirm it. Oh, bon Dieu, les langues des hommes

sont pleines de tromperies. What says she, fair one, that the tongues of men

are full of deceit? Oui, that the tongues of men be full of deceit.

That is the princess.

The princess is the better English woman. In faith, Kate, my wooing is fit

for thy understanding.

I know no ways to mince words in love, but directly to say I love you.

Then, if you urge me farther than to say, do you in faith, I wear out my

suit.

Give me your answer, in faith, do, and so clap hands in a bargain. How say you,

lady?

So, Faute-Honneur, me understand well.

Mary.

If you would put me to verses, or to dance for your sake, Kate, why, you

undid me.

I have neither words nor measure.

If I could win a lady at leapfrog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armour

on my back, I should quickly leap into a wife.

But before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly.

nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation, only downright

oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging.

I speak to thee, plain soldier.

If thou canst love me for this, then take me. If not, well, to say to thee

that I shall die is true, but for thy love, by the Lord, no.

And yet I love thee.

And while thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain constancy, for he must

do right by thee, for he hath not the gifts to woo in other places.

A good leg will fall, straight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a

curled head of hair will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will

wax hollow, but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon.

Rather, the sun and not the moon, for it shines bright and never changes.

but keeps his course truly.

And if thou would have such a one, then take me.

Take me, take a soldier. Take a soldier, take a king.

What sayest thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Is it possible that I should love the enemy of France?

No.

No, it is not possible for you to love the enemy of France, Kate. But in loving

me, you should love the friend of France.

For I love France so well I will not part with the village of it.

I'll have it all mine.

And Kate, when France is mine and I am yours, then yours is France. Oh, I

cannot tell. What is that? Oh, Kate, well, I will tell thee in French. Oh,

no, no.

Je compte sur la possession de France.

See, what then? What then?

See,

I will never move the in French unless it be to laugh at me.

But Kate, dost thou understand thus much English?

Canst thou love me?

I cannot tell.

Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate?

I'll ask them.

But could Kate mock me mercifully, the rather gentle princess, because I love

thee cruelly?

What sayest thou, my fair flower de luce?

I do not know.

Notice hereafter to know, but now to promise.

How answer you?

Le plus belle?

Catherine de Monde, mon très chère et divine déesse.

Your Majesty, I have forced enough French to deceive the most sage

demoiselle that is in France.

Now fire upon my false French.

By mine honour, and in true English, I love thee, Kate, by which honour I dare

not say thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost.

And so, most fair Catherine, tell me, will you have me?

And put off your maiden blushes. Take thee by the hand and say, Harry of

England, I am thine. Which word thou shalt know 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.

Come, your answer in broken music. For thy voice is music and thy English

broken.

And so...

Catherine, queen of all, break thy mind to me in broken English.

Will you have me?

That is as it shall please the king, my father.

Nay, it will please him well, Kate.

It shall please him, Kate.

Then it shall also content me.

Upon that.

I kiss your hand and call you my queen.

Then I will kiss your lips.

Man of mine, what says she? That it not be the fashion for the ladies of France.

I cannot say what is better. To kiss!

Your Majesty can hear better than me.

It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married,

would she say?

Yes, really.

Oh, Kate.

Well, nice customs cut, see to great kings.

Dear Kate, we cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion.

That we are the makers of manners, Kate, and the liberty that follows our places

stops the mouths of all fine falses. I will do yours.

Therefore, patiently and yielding.

You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate.

God save your majesty.

My royal cousin, teach your princess English.

I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her, and that is

good English.

Now, shall Kate be my wife?

If it please you.

I am content.

We have consented to all terms of reason.

Is it so, my lords of England?

The king hath granted every article, his daughter first, and in sequel all

according to their firm proposed natures.

Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up issue to me that the contending

kingdoms of France and England, whose very shores look pale with envy at each

other's happiness, may cease their hatred.

And this dear conjunction,

Plant neighborhood and Christian like accord in their sweet bosoms that never

war advance his bloody sword twixt England and Fair France

Now welcome Kate and bear me witness all that here. I kiss her as my sovereign

queen

Could

you Le suprême faiseur de mariage confond de nos cœurs en un seul, nos

royaumes en un seul.

Comme le mari et la femme, à eux deux ne font qu'un en amour, ainsi puissent vos

royaumes s'épouser si bien que jamais un mauvais procédé, jamais la cruelle

jalousie qui si souvent bouleverse le bienheureux lit conjugal, ne se glisse

dans le pacte de ces empires.

Amen.

Prepare we for our marriage, on which day my Lord of Burgundy will take your

oath, and all the peers, for surety of your loyalty.

Then shall I swear to Kate, and Kate to me, and may our oaths well kept and

prosperous be.

with rough and all-unable pen, our bending author hath pursued the story.

On a little stage, confining mighty men, mangling

by starts the full course of their glory.

Short life, but in that small time most greatly lived,

this

Star of England.

Fortune made his sword, by which the world's best garden he achieved, and of

it left his son imperial lord.

Henry VI.

In infant bands crowned 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.

His England.

His England.

My England.

our england

and made

our england

bleed