All language subtitles for The.Hollow.Crown.S01E04.720p.B y.x264-7SinS

(DOG BARKlNG)

CHORUS:
O 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.

(PRAYlNG lN LATlN)

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,

Assume the port of Mars.

Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies

Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.

Can this cockpit hold

The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram

Within this wooden "O" the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?

(DlSTANT WARFARE ECHOES)

(PRAYlNG lN LATlN)

-Amen.
-ALL: Amen.

CHORUS:
And let us, ciphers to this great account,

On your imaginary forces work.

Piece out our imperfections
with your thoughts

For 'tis your thoughts
that now must deck our kings,

Carry them here and there,
jumping o'er times,

Turning th'accomplishment of many years
lnto an hour-glass:

For the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history.

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

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.

(CHUCKLlNG)

The breath no sooner left his father's body,

But that his wildness, mortified in him,
Seemed to die too.

Never was such a sudden scholar made.

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
You would say it hath been all in all his study.

List his discourse of war and you shall hear
A fearful battle rendered you in music.

Which is a wonder
how his grace should glean it.

The strawberry grows underneath the nettle,

And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
Neighboured by fruit of baser quality.

And so the Prince
obscured his contemplation

Under the veil of wildness.

(NElGHlNG)

(PANTlNG)

But my good lord,
How now for mitigation of this bill

Urged by the Commons?

lt must be thought on. lf it pass against us

We lose the better half of our possession:

For all the temporal lands which men devout

Have given to the Church,
would they strip from us,

And to the coffers of the King beside,

A thousand pounds by the year.
Thus runs the bill.

-This would drink deep.
-'Twould drink the cup and all.

ELY: Doth his majesty incline to it, or no?

He seems indifferent,

Or rather swaying more upon our part.

For l have made an offer to his majesty,

Upon our spiritual convocation,
As touching France,

to give a greater sum
Than ever at one time the clergy yet

Did to his predecessors part withal.

-How did this offer seem received?
-With good acceptance of his majesty,

Save that there was not time enough to hear.

What was th'impediment?

CANTERBURY:
The French ambassador upon that instant

Craved audience, and the time l think, is come

-To give him hearing. ls it four o'clock?
-lt is.

-Then go we in, to hear his embassy.
-l'll wait upon you, and l long to hear it.

(BREATHlNG HEAVlLY)

-Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
-Here, my lord.

Bring him forward, good uncle.

Shall we call in the French ambassador,
my liege?

Not yet. We would be resolved,
Before we hear him, of some things of weight

That task our thoughts
concerning us and France.

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

lf l may now with conscience make this claim.

And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,

That you should fashion,
wrest or bow your reading

Or nicely charge your understanding soul
With opening titles miscreate.

For God doth know how many now in health

Shall drop their blood in approbation
Of what your reverence shall incite us to.

Therefore take heed
how you impawn our person,

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

For never two such kingdoms did contend

Without much fall of blood,
whose guiltless drops

Are every one a woe.

Under this conjuration speak, my lord,
For we will hear, note, and believe in heart

That what you speak
is in your conscience washed

As pure as sin with baptism.

Then hear me, gracious sovereign,
and you peers

That owe your selves, your lives and services
To this imperial throne.

There is no bar

To make against
your highness' claim to France.

Gracious lord,
Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag,

Look back into your mighty ancestors.

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

lnvoke his warlike spirit,

And 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,
and my thrice-puissant liege

ls in the very May-morn of his youth,
Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.

Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
Do all expect that you should rouse yourself

As did the former lions of your blood.

(CHURCH BELL TOLLlNG FAlNTLY)

They know your grace hath cause,
And means, and might;

So doth your highness. 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.

CANTERBURY: O let their bodies follow,

My blood and sword and fire
to win your right;

Therefore, to France, my liege.

Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.

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

France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe
Or break it all to pieces.

(DOOR OPENlNG)

Now are we well prepared
to know the pleasure

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

May't please your majesty to give us leave
Freely to render what we have in charge,

Or shall we sparingly show you
The Dauphin's meaning?

We are no tyrant but a Christian king:

Therefore with frank
and with 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 the Third.

ln answer of which claim
the Prince our master

Says that you savour too much of your youth

And bids you be advised.
There's naught in France

That can be with a nimble galliard won;

You cannot revel into dukedoms there.

He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,

This tun of treasure, and in lieu of this
Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim

Hear no more of you.
This the Dauphin speaks.

What treasure, Uncle?

Tennis-balls, my liege.

(HENRY V CHUCKLlNG)

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
Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.

Tell him, he hath made a match
with such a wrangler

That all the courts of France
shall be disturbed with chasers.

And we understand him well,
how he comes oer'st

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 ourself to
Barbarous license.

As is ever common that men are merriest
when they are from home.

But tell the Dauphin l will keep my state,

Be like a king and show my sail of greatness.
When l do rouse me in my throne of France.

And l will rise there with so full a glory
That l will dazzle all the eyes of France,

Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.

And...

(CHUCKLES)

...tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his

Hath turned his balls to gun-stones,
and his soul

Shall stand sore charged
for the wasteful vengeance

That shall fly with them;
for many a thousand widows

Shall this, his mock,
mock out of their dear husbands,

Mock mothers from their sons,
mock castles down,

And some are yet ungotten and unborn

That shall have cause
to curse the Dauphin's scorn.

But this lies all within the will of God,
To whom l do appeal, and in whose name

Tell you the Dauphin l am coming on
To venge me as l may, and to put forth

My rightful hand in a well-hallowed cause.

So get you hence in peace.
And tell the Dauphin

His jest will savour but of shallow wit

When thousands weep
more than did laugh at it.

Convey him with safe conduct.

This was a merry message.

We hope to make the sender blush at it.

Therefore, my lords, 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 our proportions for these wars

Be soon collected
and all things thought upon

That may with reasonable swiftness add
More feathers to our wings, for, God before,

We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.

Therefore let every man now task his thought,

That this fair action may on foot be brought.

(EXClTED SHOUTlNG)

(CHEERFUL MUSlC PLAYlNG)

CHORUS:
Now all the youth of England are on fire.

Pistol!

CHORUS: Now thrive the armourers,
and honour's thought

Reigns solely in the breast of every man.

(ALL SlNGlNG)

CHORUS: For now sits expectation in the air

And hides a sword from hilts unto the point

With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets,
Promised to Harry and his followers.

The French, advised by good intelligence

Of this most dreadful preparation,
Shake in their fear.

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!

(CHUCKLlNG)

Well met, Corporal Nym.

Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

-What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
-For my part l care not.

l will bestow a breakfast to make you friends,

and we'll be all three
sworn brothers to France.

Faith, l will live so long as l may, that's the

Certain of it,
and when l cannot live any longer, l

Will do as l may. That is the rendezvous of it.

lt is certain, Corporal,

he is married to Nell Quickly,

and certainly she hath done you wrong,
for you were troth-plight to her.

l cannot tell. Things must be as they may.

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

and some say knives have edges.
lt must be as it may. Well, l cannot tell.

(TALKlNG lNDlSTlNCTLY)

Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife.
Good Corporal, be patient here.

Nym! Nym!

-How now, mine host Pistol?
-Base tyke, call'st thou me host?

Now by this hand l swear l scorn the term
Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

No, by my troth, not long.

For we cannot lodge and board a dozen
or 1 4 gentlewomen that live honestly

by the prick of their needles but it will
be thought we keep a bawdy-house straight.

O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn!

Now we shall see wilful adultery
and murder committed.

-Pish!
-Pish for thee, lceland dog,

thou prick-eared cur of lceland!

Good Corporal Nym,
show thy valour and put up your sword.

(LAUGHlNG)

Will you shog ofF? l would have you solus!

Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile!

For l can take, and Pistol's cock is up,
And flashing fire will follow.

You cannot conjure me.

l have an humour
to knock you indifferently well.

Hear me, hear me, hear what l say.

He who strikes the first stroke,
l'll run him up to the hilts, as l am a soldier.

l will cut thy throat one time or other,
in fair terms, that is the humour of it.

BOY: Mine host Pistol,
you must come to my master,

And you, hostess.
He is very sick and would to bed.

Faith, he's very ill.

By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding
one of these days.

The King has killed his heart.

As ever you came of women,
come in quickly to Sir John. Ah, poor heart!

Sweet men, come to him.

The King hath run bad humours
on the knight,

that's the even of it.

Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
His heart is fracted and corroborate.

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

(SlGHlNG)

Come, shall l make you two friends?

(SlGHlNG) We must to France together.

l shall have my eight shillings?

A noble shalt thou have, and present pay,
And liquor likewise will l give to thee,

And friendship shall combine
and brotherhood.

l'll live by Nym and Nym shall live by me.
Give me thy hand.

-l shall have my noble?
-(SlGHS) ln cash, most justly paid.

Well, then, that's the humour of't.

(ALL LAUGHlNG)

Ha ha, 'tis well, 'tis well.

# Bring me some sack
ln a cup made of gold

# Drink to the health
Of the Henry of old

ALL: # Bring me some sack
ln a cup made of straw

# l shall not want
For true love no more #

(DOG BARKlNG)

Come, let us in to condole Falstaff,

for, lambkins, we will live.

(GRUNTlNG)

Bardolph, be blithe:
Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:

Husband, bristle thy courage up.

For Falstaff he is dead.

Dead?

Then we must yearn therefore.

Would l were with him, wheresome'er he is,

either in heaven or in hell!

Sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom,

if ever man went to Arthur's bosom.

(SNlFFLlNG)

A' parted even just between twelve and one,
even at the turning o' the tide:

for after l saw him fumble with the sheets
and play with flowers

and smile upon his fingers' ends,
l knew there was but one way;

for his nose was as sharp as a pen,
and a' babbled of green fields.

"How now, sir John!" quoth l
"what, man! be o' good cheer."

So cried out "God, God, God!"
three or four times.

Now l, to comfort him,
bid him a' should not think of God;

l hoped there was no need to trouble himself
with any such thoughts yet.

So a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet.

l put my hand in the bed and felt them,

and they were as cold as any stone;

then l felt to his knees,

and they were as cold as any stone,

and so upward and upward,
and all was as cold as any stone.

Did he cry out for sack?

Ay, that a' did.

-And for women?
-(CHUCKLlNG) Nay, that a' did not.

Yea, that a' did;
and said they were devils incarnate.

A' could never abide carnation;

-'twas a colour he never liked.
-(ALL LAUGHlNG)

Shall we shog?
The king will be gone from Southampton.

Come, let us away.

My love, give me thy lips.

Look to my chattels and my movables:
Trust none;

For oaths are straws,
men's faiths are wafer-cakes,

And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck.

Yoke-fellows in arms, let us to France.
Touch her soft mouth, and march.

BARDOLPH: Farewell, hostess.

l cannot kiss, that is the humour of it;

but, adieu.

Keep close, l thee command.

Farewell; adieu.

(SNlFFLlNG)

KlNG CHARLES: Thus comes the English
with full power upon us;

And more than carefully it us concerns
To answer royally in our defences.

Therefore the Duke of Orleans,
shall make forth,

And you, Prince Dauphin,
with all swift dispatch,

The 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.

My most redoubted father,
lt is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe.

l say, 'tis meet we all go forth
And let us do it with no show of fear;

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.
-(BANGlNG TABLE)

Peace, Prince Dauphin!
You are too much mistaken in this king.

Question your grace the late ambassador,
With what great state he heard their embassy,

How modest in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution.

'Tis not so, my lord high constable.

But though we think it so, it is no matter:

ln cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
The enemy more mighty than he seems.

Think we King Harry strong;

And, princes,
look you strongly arm to meet him.

For he is bred out of that bloody strain
That haunted us in our familiar paths.

Witness our too much memorable shame
When all our princes captiv'd by the hand

Of that black name,
Edward, Black Prince of Wales.

This is a stem
Of that victorious stock; let us fear

His native mightiness and fate of him.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHlNG)

Ambassadors from Harry, King of England
Do crave admittance to your majesty.

We'll give him present audience.
Go, and bring him.

You see this chase is hotly followed friends.

Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs

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
As self-neglecting.

(DOOR OPENlNG)

(DOOR CLOSlNG)

From our 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 borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven,

By law of nature and of nations, belong

To him and to his heirs. That you may know
'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,

Picked from the worm-holes
of long-vanished days,

Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,

He sends you this most memorable line,
ln every branch truly demonstrative.

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

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,

ln thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,

And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the crown and to take mercy

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,
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 l bring greeting too.

For us, we will consider of this further:

To-morrow shall you bear our full intent
Back to our brother England.

DAUPHlN: For the Dauphin...

l stand here for him:
what to him from England?

Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt.

Thus says my king;
that 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 womby vaultages of France

Shall chide your trespass
and return your mock

ln second accent of his ordnance.

l desire nothing but odds with England:
to that end,

As matching to his youth and vanity,
l 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:

Now he weighs time
Even to the utmost grain, that you shall read

ln your own losses,
if he stay in France.

To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.

Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
Come here himself to question our delay.

You shall be soon dispatched
with fair conditions.

A night is but small breath and little pause
To answer matters of this consequence.

CHORUS:
Suppose now that you see the English fleet

With silken streamers
the young Phoebus fanning.

Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give

To sounds confused;
behold the threaden sails,

Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,

Draw the huge bottoms
through the furrow'd sea,

Breasting the lofty surge.

O, do but think
You stand upon the ravage and behold

A city on the inconstant billows dancing;

For so appears this fleet majestical,

-Holding due course to Harfleur.
-(WHlSTLES)

Follow, follow:
For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd

With one appearing hair, that will not follow

These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers
to France?

Land, my lord.

(SlGHlNG)

No King of England, if not King of France.

CHORUS: Suppose that Exeter
from the French comes back;

Tells Harry that the king doth offer him

Katherine his daughter and with her,
to dowry,

Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.

The offer likes not.

Work, work your thoughts,
and therein see a siege;

Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.

The nimble gunner

With linstock now
the devilish cannon touches,

And down goes all before them.

(SOLDlERS YELLlNG lNDlSTlNCTLY)

(SlZZLlNG)

(SCREAMlNG)

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

(SCREAMlNG)

(EXPLOSlONS)

Once more unto the breach,
dear friends, once more;

-Or close the wall up with our English dead.
-(EXPLODlNG)

(EXPLODlNG)

ln 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-favour'd rage.

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.

Dishonour not your mothers; now attest

That those whom you called fathers
did beget you.

Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war.

(DlSTANT EXPLOSlONS AND SCREAMS)

(LOUD EXPLOSlONS)

And you, good yeoman,

Whose limbs were made in England,
show us here

The mettle of your pasture. Let us swear

That you are worth your breeding;
which l doubt not;

For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

l 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 Saint George!"

(ALL ROARlNG)

(DRUNKENLY) To the breach, to the breach!

(CACKLlNG)

Pray thee, corporal, stay:
the knocks are too hot

and for mine own part,
l have not a case of lives.

(EXPLODlNG)

The humour of it is too hot
and that is the very plain sum of it.

The plain sum is most just.
The humour is still abound.

# Knocks go and come;
God's vassals drop and die;

# And sword and shield,
ln bloody field,

# Doth win immortal fame #

(CANNON FlRlNG)

l would give all my fame
for a pot of ale and safety.

-And l!
-(CANNON FlRlNG)

Up to the breach, you dogs!
Avaunt, you cullions!

Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.

Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,
Abate thy rage, great duke!

Good Bawcock, bate thy rage:
use lenity, sweet chuck!

(MEN YELLlNG)

(YELLlNG)

(ALL ROARlNG)

(WHlNNYlNG)

How yet resolves the governor of the town?

To our best mercy give yourselves;

Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst: for, as l am a soldier,

A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,

lf l begin the battery once again,
l will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur

Till in her ashes she lie buried.

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,

And the flesh'd soldier,
rough and hard of heart,

ln liberty of bloody hand 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 impious war,

Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats

Enlink'd to waste and desolation?

What is't to me,
when you yourselves are cause,

lf 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,

Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;

Whiles yet the cool
and temperate wind of grace

O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil and villainy.

lf not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand

Defile the locks
of your shrill-shrieking daughters;

Your fathers taken by the silver beards,

And their most reverend heads
dash'd to the walls,

Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,

Whiles the mad mothers
with their howls confused

Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.

What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?

Our expectation hath this day an end:

The Dauphin,
whom of succours we entreated,

Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
To raise so great a siege.

Therefore, great king,

We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.

Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;

For we no longer are defensible.

Open your gates.

Come, Uncle Exeter

Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French.

Use mercy to them all.

To-night in Harfleur we'll be thy guest,

To-morrow for the march are we addressed.

Captain, l thee beseech to do us favours:
The Duke of York doth love thee well.

Ay, l praise God;
and l have merited some love at his hands.

Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart...

Fortune is Bardolph's foe,
and frowns on him...

For he hath stolen from a church,
and hanged must be.

A damned death!
Let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate.

But York hath given the doom of death
For loot of little price.

Therefore, go speak:
the Duke will hear thy voice:

And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
With edge of penny cord and vile reproach:

Speak, captain, for his life,
and l will thee requite.

Ancient Pistol, l do partly understand
your meaning.

Why then, rejoice therefore!

Certainly, Ancient,
it is not a thing to rejoice at:

for if, look you, he were my brother, l would
desire the Duke to use his good pleasure,

and put him to execution;
for discipline ought to be used.

(SlGHS)

Die and be damn'd!

-Fig for thy friendship!
-lt is well.

-The fig of Spain!
-Very good.

Alice...

Tu as été en Angleterre,
et tu parles bien le langage.

Un peu, madame.

Je te prie, m'enseignez.

ll faut que j'apprenne a parler.

Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?

La main? Elle est appelee de hand.

De... hand.

-Et des doigts?
-Les doigts?

Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts;
mais je me souviendrai.

Les doigts?
Je pense qu'ils sont appeles...

De fingers; oui, de fingers.

(MlSPRONOUNClNG) De fingers.

Je pense que je suis le bon écolier.

J'ai gagné deux mots d'Anglois vitement.

Comment appelez-vous les ongles?

Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails.

De nails.

Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien.

(HESlTATlNGLY) De hand, de fingers,

et de nails.

C'est bien dit, madame.

-(GlGGLlNG)
-ll est fort bon Anglois.

Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras.

De arm, madame.

-Et le coude?
-De elbow.

De elbow.

Je m'en fais la répétition de tous les
mots que vous m'avez appris dés à présent.

ll est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.

Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez.

De hand, de fingers,

de nails, de arm,

et de bilbow.

-Non, de elbow, madame.
-O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie!

De elbow.

Et comment appelez-vous le col?

De neck, madame.

De neck. Et le menton?

De chin.

(MlSPRONOUNClNG) De chin.

(MlSPRONOUNClNG)
Le col, de neck; et le menton, de chin.

Oui.

Sauf votre honneur, en vérité,
vous prononcez les mots

aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.

(GlGGLlNG)

Je ne doute point d'apprendre,
par la grace de Dieu, et en peu de temps.

N'avez vous pas déjà oublié
ce que je vous ai enseigné?

Non, je reciterai à vous promptement.

De hand, de fingers,

-de mails...
-Nails, madame.

De nails, de arm, et de ilbow.

Ugh! Sauf votre honneur, de elbow.

Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de neck, et de chin.

Et comment appelez-vous le pied et la robe?

De foot, madame; et de gown.

De foot et de gown!

(BOTH GlGGLlNG)

O Seigneur Dieu!

(GASPS)

Ce sont mots de son mauvais,

gros, et impudique,
et non pour les dames d'honneur d'user.

Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant
les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde.

Foh!

Le foot et le gown!

Néanmoins, je reciterai
une autre fois ma leçon ensemble.

De hand, de fingers,

de nails, de arm,

de elbow, de neck, de chin,

de foot and de gown.

Excellent, madame!

C'est assez pour une fois.

-God bless your majesty!
-How now, Captain!

-Were you with us at the breach?
-Ay, so please your majesty.

What men did you lose, Captain?

The perdition of the adversary hath been
very great, reasonable, great.

Marry, for my part,
l think we hath lost never a man,

but one who is executed for robbing a church,

one Bardolph, if your majesty know the man?

His face is all bubukles, and whelks,
and flames o' fire.

And his lips blows at his nose,
and it is like a coal of fire,

sometimes blue and sometimes red.

But, look, his nose is executed
and his fire's out.

(lNAUDlBLE)

We would have all such offenders so cut off:
and we give express charge,

that in our marches through the country,
there be nothing compelled from the villages,

nothing taken but paid for,

none of the French
upbraided or abused in disdainful language;

for when lenity and cruelty
play for a kingdom,

the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.

(HORSES NElGHlNG)

'Tis certain he hath passed the river Somme.

Normans, the bastard Normans,
Norman bastards!

Dieu de batailles,
where have they this mettle?

Where is Montjoy the herald?
Speed him hence:

Let him greet England
with our sharp defiance.

Up, great princes
and with spirit of honour edged

Bar Harry England,
that sweeps through our land

With pennons painted
in the blood of Harfleur.

Go down upon him, you have power enough.
Bring him our prisoner.

This becomes the great.

Now forth, Lord Constable and princes all,

And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

(STRAlNlNG)

(MEN COUGHlNG)

(PANTlNG)

(SHOVELS DlGGlNG EARTH)

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

My Lord.

You know me by my habit.

-What shall l know of thee?
-My master's mind.

Unfold it.

Thus says my king:
Say thou to Harry of England:

Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep:

advantage is a better soldier than rashness.

Tell him we could have rebuked him
at Harfleur,

but that we thought not good
to bruise an injury till it were full ripe.

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

England shall repent his folly,
see his weakness, and admire our sufferance.

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 too faint a number;

and for our disgrace,
his own person, kneeling at our feet,

but a weak and worthless satisfaction.

Tell him, for conclusion,
he hath betrayed his followers,

whose condemnation is pronounced.

So far my king and master; so much my office.

What is thy name?

Montjoy.

Thou dost thy office fairly.

Turn thee back.

And tell thy king l do not seek him now
But would be willing to march on to Calais

Without impeachment. For, to say the sooth.
My people are with sickness much enfeebled,

My numbers lessened, and those few l have
Almost no better than so many French,

Who when they were in health,
l tell thee, herald,

l thought upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchmen.

Go therefore, tell thy master, here l am.

lf we may pass, we will. lf we be hinder'd,

We shall your tawny ground
with your red blood

Discolour.

And so Montjoy, 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.

So tell your master.

l shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.

We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.

(NElGHlNG)

CHORUS: Now entertain conjecture of a time

When creeping murmur and the poring dark
Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

From camp to camp
through the foul womb of night

The hum of either army stilly sounds.

Fire answers fire,
and through their paly flames

Each battle sees the other's umber'd face;

Steed threatens steed,
in high and boastful neighs

Piercing the night's dull ear.

(ROOSTER CROWlNG)

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll

And the third hour of drowsy morning name.

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 cripple tardy-gaited night

Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away.

The poor condemned English,

Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently and inly ruminate

The morning's danger;
cheeks and war-worn coats

Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts.

O now, who wiII behoId
The royal captain of this ruin'd band

Walking from watch to watch, 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.

(TALKlNG SOFTLY)

Upon his royal face there is no note
How dread an army hath enrounded him;

Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night,

But freshly looks and over-bears attaint
With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;

That every wretch, pining and pale before,

Beholding him,
plucks comfort from his looks,

Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all,

Behold, as may unworthiness define,

A little touch of Harry in the night.

Friends, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore should our courage be.

God Almighty!

There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out.

For our bad neighbour
makes us early stirrers,

Which is both healthful and good husbandry.
(CHUCKLlNG)

Thus may we gather honey from the weed,

And make a moral of the devil himself.

YORK: My lord.

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:

A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.

Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better,

Since l may say "Now lie l like a king."

'Tis good for men to love their present pains
Upon example; so the spirit is eased.

Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas.

My good lords,
Commend me to the Captains in our camp;

Do my good morrow to them, and anon
Desire them come to my pavilion.

We shall, my liege.

Shall l attend your grace?

(SlGHlNG) No, my good knight;
Go with my cousin to my lords of England:

l and my bosom must debate awhile,
And then l would no other company.

The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!

God-a-mercy, old heart!
Thou speak'st cheerfully.

(SlGHlNG)

(MEN SHOUTlNG lN DlSTANCE)

(SlGHlNG) Will it never be morning?

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHlNG)

Che vous la?

Discuss unto me; art thou officer?
Or art thou base, common and popular?

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

As good a gentleman as the emperor.

-Then you are better than the king.
-The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold,

A lad of life, an imp of fame;
Of parents good, of fist most valiant.

l kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string

l love the lovely bully.

What is thy name?

-Harry le Roy.
-Le Roy!

-A Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?
-No, l'm a Welshman.

-Know'st thou Fluellen?
-Yes.

-Art thou his friend?
-And his kinsman too.

The fig for thee, then!

My name is Pistol called.

lt sorts well with your fierceness.

(lNDlSTlNCT TALKlNG)

-My lord Dauphin.
-What is it, boy?

-l have seen the English, sir.
-(MAN GASPlNG)

We are within 1 ,500 paces of their tents.

ls not that the morning which breaks yonder?

We have no great cause
to desire the approach of day.

We see yonder the beginning of the day,
but l think we shall never see the end of it.

Who goes there?

-A friend.
-Under what captain serve you?

Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

A good old commander
and a most kind gentleman:

l pray you, what thinks he of our estate?

Even as men wrecked upon a sand,
that look to be washed off the next tide.

He hath not told his thought to the king?

No; nor it is not meet he should.

For, l think the king is but a man, as l am:
the element shows to him as it doth to me;

his ceremonies laid by,
in his nakedness he appears but a man.

Therefore when he sees reason of fears,
as we do,

his fears be of the same relish as ours are.

Yet, in reason, no King should
possess himself with any appearance of fear,

lest he, by showing it,
should dishearten his army.

He may show what outward courage he will;
but l believe, as cold a night as 'tis,

he could wish himself
in Thames up to the neck;

and so l would he were, and l by him,
all adventures, so we were quit here.

l think he would not wish himself anywhere
but where he is.

Then l would he were here alone,
and a many poor men's lives saved.

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

Methinks l 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.

BATES: Ay,
or more than we should seek after.

For we know enough
if we know we are the kings subjects.

lf his cause be wrong, our obedience
to the king wipes the crime of it out of us.

But if the cause be not good, the king himself
hath a heavy reckoning to make,

when all those legs and arms and heads,
chopped off in battle,

shall join together at the latter day
and cry all "We died at such a place".

l am afeard there are few die well
that die in a battle.

Now, if these men do not die well, it will be
a black matter for the king that led them to it.

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

'Tis certain, every man that dies ill,
the ill upon his own head;

the King is not to answer it.

HENRY V: l myself heard the king say
he would not be ransomed.

Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully:

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

-lf l live to see it, l'll never trust his word after.
-(LAUGHlNG MOCKlNGLY)

You may as well go about
to turn the sun to ice

with fanning in his face
with a peacock's feather.

You'll never trust his word after! The King!
Come, 'tis a foolish saying.

(SHARPLY)
Your reproof is something too round:

l should be angry with you,
if the time were convenient.

-Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.
-HENRY V: l embrace it.

-How shall l know thee again?
-Give me any glove of thine, and l will wear it:

then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it,
l will make it my quarrel.

Here is my glove: give me another of thine.

There.

This will l also wear in my belt:
if ever thou come to me and say,

after to-morrow, "This is my glove,"
by this hand, l will take thee a box on the ear.

-lf ever l live to see it, l will challenge it.
-Thou darest as well be hanged.

Well. l will do it, though l take thee
in the king's company.

Keep thy word: fare thee well.

(WHlNNYlNG)

lf the English had any apprehension,
they would run away.

(SOLDlERS LAUGHlNG)

Now is it time to arm: come, shall we about it?

O God of battles! Steel my soldiers' hearts;

Possess them not with fear;
take from them now

The sense of reckoning,
if the opposed numbers

Pluck their hearts from them.

Not to-day, O Lord,
O, not to-day, think not upon the fault

My father made in compassing the crown!
l Richard's body have interred anew;

And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears
Than from it issued forced drops of blood.

More will l do;
Though all that l can do is nothing worth,

Since that my penitence comes after all,
lmploring pardon.

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

l know thy errand, l will go with thee:

The day, my friends and all things stay for me.

Position!

HENRY V:
O God of battles! Steel my soldiers' hearts;

Possess them not with fear.

The king has rode himself to view their battle.

(TRUMPETS BLOWlNG lN DlSTANCE)

SALlSBURY: God's arm strike with us!

There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.

'Tis fearful odds.
God be wi' you, princes all; l'll to my charge:

lf we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully, warriors all, adieu!

Farewell, good Salisbury;
good luck go with thee!

Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:

You are as full of valour as of kindness;
Princely in both.

O that we now had here
But one 1 0,000 of those men in England

-That do no work to-day!
-HENRY V: What's he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:

lf we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

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

By Jove, l am not covetous for gold,

Nor care l who doth feed upon my cost;
lt 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,
l am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz,
wish not a man from England:

God's peace!
l would not lose so great an honour

As one man more, methinks,
would share from me

For the best hope l have.
O, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, Westmorland,
through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made

And crowns for convoy put into 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 tip-toe when the 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 neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian:"

Then will he strip his sleeve
and show his scars.

And say "These wounds l had
on Crispin's day."

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 as household words

Harry the king, Salisbury and Exeter,

Erpingham, Westmorland and York.

Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remember'd.

We few,

we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed
they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap
whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

My sovereign lord,
bestow yourself with speed:

The French are bravely in their battles set,
Will with all expedience charge on us.

All things are ready, if our minds be so.

Perish the man whose mind is backward now!

Thou dost not wish
more help from England, coz?

God's will my liege, would you and l alone,

Without more help,
could fight this royal battle!

Why, now thou hast unwish'd 5,000 men;
Which likes me better than to wish us one.

You know your places: God be with you all!

My lord, most humbly on my knee l beg
The leading of the vaward.

Take it, brave York.

Now, soldiers, march away:

And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!

(TRUMPET BLOWlNG)

(NElGHlNG)

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

Once more l come to know of thee,
King Harry,

lf for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow.

-Who hath sent thee now?
-The Constable of France.

l pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.

Good God!
why should they mock poor fellows thus?

A many of our bodies shall no doubt
Find native graves; upon the which, l trust,

Shall witness live in brass of this day's work.

Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
We are but warriors for the working-day;

Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field.

But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;

And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck

The gay new coats
o'er the French soldiers' heads

And turn them out of service.

Herald, save thou thy labour;
Come thou no more for ransom.

Thou shalt have none, l swear,
but these my joints;

Which if thou wilt have
as l will leave you them,

Shall yield thee little. Tell the constable.

l shall, King Harry.
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

(HORSE NElGHlNG)

(ORDERS BElNG CALLED OUT, lNDlSTlNCT)

(ALL ROARlNG)

Advance the archers 30 paces. Now!

(SOLDlERS YELLlNG)

(ROARlNG)

(GROANlNG)

Sire!

(GROANS)

Steady lads.

Steady.

-(CAVALRY SHOUTlNG)
-EXETER: Face it!

And loose!

(SHOUTlNG lN DlSTANCE)

-Charge!
-(ALL YELLlNG)

(SOBBlNG)

(SOLDlERS YELLlNG lNDlSTlNCTLY)

(GROANlNG)

O diable!

(BREATHlNG UNEVENLY)

Mortal reproach and everlasting shame.

Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

l'll to the throng:

Let life be short; else shame will be too long.

(ROARlNG)

The Duke of York
commends himself to your majesty.

Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour
l saw him down; thrice up again and fighting;

From helmet to the spur all blood he was.

ln which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
Larding the plain.

He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,

And with a feeble grip says "Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign."

And so, espoused to death,
with blood he sealed

A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced

Those waters from me
which l would have stopp'd;

But l had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes

-And gave me up to tears.
-l blame you not;

For, hearing this, l must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

-(HORSE NElGHlNG)
-What new alarum is this same?

(MAN YELLlNG lN DlSTANCE)

The French have reinforced
their scatter'd men.

l was not angry since l came to France
Until this instant.

lf they will fight with us, let them come down,
Or void the field; they do offend our sight:

lf they'll do neither, we will come to them,

And make them skirr away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings.

We'll cut the throats of those we have,

And not a man of them that we shall take
Shall taste our mercy.

-Let every soldier kill his prisoners.
-My Lord?

Give the word through.

(FRENCH SOLDlERS SCREAMlNG)

(EXETER SlGHlNG)

The herald of the French, my liege.
His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

What means this, herald? Know'st thou not

That l have fined
these bones of mine for ransom?

-Comest thou again for ransom?
-No, great king:

l come to thee for charitable licence,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field

To look our dead, and then to bury them;
O, give us leave, great king,

To view the field in safety and dispose
Of their dead bodies.

l tell thee truly, herald,
l know not if the day be ours or no;

For yet a many of your horsemen peer
And gallop o'er the field.

The day is yours.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!

-What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?
-They call it Agincourt.

Then call we this the field of Agincourt,

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.

Good uncle, go with him.
Bring me just notice of the numbers dead.

On both our parts.

Your grandfather of famous memory
an't please your majesty,

and your great-uncle
Edward the Black Prince of Wales,

as l have read in the chronicles,
fought a most brave battle here in France.

They did, Fluellen.

lf your majesty is remembered of it,
the Welshmen did good service that day.

l well remember.

For l am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

God bless and preserve your majesty!

l am your majesty's countryman,
l care not who know it.

l will confess it to all the world:
l need not to be ashamed of your majesty,

praised be God,
so long as your majesty is an honest man.

God keep me so!

-HENRY V: Call yonder fellow hither.
-Soldier, you must come to the King.

Soldier, why wearest thou that glove?

An't please your majesty,

'tis the gage of one that l should fight withal,

if he be alive.

An Englishman?

An't please your majesty,

a rascal that swaggered with me last night;

who, if alive and ever dare
to challenge this glove,

l have sworn to take him a box on the ear.

(LAUGHlNG)

What think you, Captain?

ls it fit this soldier keep his oath?

lt may be that his enemy
is a gentleman of great sort,

quite from the answer of his degree.

Though he be as good a gentleman
as the devil is,

it is necessary, look your grace,
that he keep his vow and his oath.

Then keep thy vow, sirrah,
when thou meetest the fellow.

So l will, my liege, as l live.

(SlGHS)

Give me thy glove, soldier:

Look, here is the fellow of it.

'Twas l, indeed, thou promised'st to strike;

And thou hast given me most bitter terms.

And please your majesty,
let his neck answer for it.

lf there be any martial law in the world.

How canst thou make me satisfaction?

All offences, my lord, come from the heart:

never came any from mine
that might offend your majesty.

lt was ourself thou didst abuse.

Your majesty came not like yourself:

you appeared to me but as a common man;

witness the night, your garments,
your lowliness;

and what your highness suffered
under that shape, l beseech you

take it for your own fault and not mine:

for had you been as l took you for,
l made no offence;

Therefore, l beseech your highness,
pardon me.

(CHUCKLES)

Here, Captain, fill this glove with crowns,
And give it to this fellow.

Keep it, fellow;

And wear it for an honour in thy cap.

(EXHALES lN RELlEF)

(HENRY V CHUCKLES)

Give him the crowns:

And, Captain,
you must needs be friends with him.

By this day and this light,
the fellow hath mettle enough in his belly.

Come, fellow.

Now, uncle, are the dead number'd?

Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.

This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lie slain:

of princes, in this number,
And nobles bearing banners,

there lie dead
One hundred twenty six:

added to these,

Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,

Eight thousand and four hundred;

of the which,

Five hundred were but yesterday
dubb'd knights:

So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;

The rest are princes, barons, lords,
knights, squires,

And gentlemen of blood and quality.

Here was a royal fellowship of death!

Where is the number of our English dead?

Edward the Duke of York,

the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Ketly,

Davy Gam, esquire:

None else of name;

and of all other men
But five and twenty.

O God, thy arm was here;

And not to us, but to thy arm alone,

Ascribe we all!

When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,

Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on the other?

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

'Tis wonderful.

Come, go we in procession to the village.

And be it death proclaimed through our host
To boast of this

or take the praise from God
Which is his only.

Let there be sung "Non nobis"
and "Te Deum;"

The dead with charity enclosed in clay:

And then to Calais; and to England then:

Where ne'er from France
arrived more happy men.

CHORUS: But yet the lamentation
of the French

lnvites curtails
the King of England's stay at home;

The emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them;

and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanced,

Till Harry's back-return again to France.

Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!

Unto our brother France, joy and good wishes

To our most fair
and princely cousin Katherine;

And, as a branch and member of this royalty,

By whom this great assembly is contrived,

We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy;

And, princes French, and peers,
health to you all!

Right joyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England;

fairly met:

So are you, princes English, every one.

We are now glad to behold your eyes;

Your eyes, which hitherto have borne in them

Against the French,
that met them in their bent,

The fatal balls of murdering basilisks:

The venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
Have lost their quality,

and that this day
Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.

To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

My duty to you both,

on equal love,
Great Kings of France and England!

That l have labour'd,
With all my wits,

my pains and strong endeavours,

To bring your most imperial majesties
Unto this bar and royal interview,

Your mightiness on both parts
best can witness.

Since then my office hath so far prevail'd

That, face to face and royal eye to eye,

You have congreeted,

let it not disgrace me,
lf l demand, before this royal view,

What rub or what impediment there is,

Why that the naked, poor and mangled Peace,

Dear nurse of arts and joyful births,

Should not in this best garden of the world
Our fertile France,

put up her lovely visage?

Alas, she hath from France
too long been chased.

l entreat

That l may know the let, why gentle Peace

Should not expel these inconveniences
And bless us with her former qualities.

lf, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace,

You must buy that peace
With full accord to all our just demands;

Whose tenors and particular effects
You have enscheduled briefly in your hands.

The king hath heard them;

to the which as yet

There is no answer made.

Well then the peace,

Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.

(SlGHS)

Pleaseth your grace
To appoint some of your council presently

To sit with us once more, with better heed
To re-survey them,

we will suddenly
Pass our accept and peremptory answer.

Brother, we shall.

Go, Uncle Exeter,
And Westmorland, go with the king;

And take with you free power to ratify,
Augment, or alter,

as your wisdoms best
Shall see advantageable for our dignity,

Anything in or out of our demands,
And we'll consign thereto.

Yet leave our cousin Katherine here with us:

She is our capital demand, comprised
Within the fore-rank of our articles.

She hath good leave.

(DOOR OPENS)

(FOOTSTEPS DEPART)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Fair Katherine,

and most fair,

Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms

Such as will enter at a lady's ear
And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?

Your majesty shall mock at me;
l cannot speak your England.

(CHUCKLES)

O fair Katherine, if you will love me
soundly with your French heart,

l will be glad to hear you confess it
brokenly with your English tongue.

Do you like me, Kate?

Pardonnez-moi, l cannot tell what is "like me."

An angel is like you, Kate,
and you are like an angel.

Que dit-iI?

Que je suis semblable à les anges?

Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.

l said so, dear Katherine;
and l must not blush to affirm it.

O bon Dieu! Les langues des hommes
sont pleines de tromperies.

What says she? That the tongues of men
are full of deceits?

Oui, dat de tongues of de mans
is be full of deceits:

dat is de princess.

The princess is the better Englishwoman.

l' faith, Kate,
my wooing is fit for thy understanding:

l am glad thou canst speak no better English;

for, if thou couldst, thou wouldst
find me such a plain king

that thou wouldst think
l'd sold my farm to buy my crown.

l know no ways to mince it in love,
but directly to say "l love you."

Give me your answer;

i' faith, do: and so clap hands and a bargain:

how say you, lady?

Sauf votre honneur ...

Me understand well.

Marry,

if you would put me to verses or to dance
for your sake, Kate, why you undid me:

for the one, l have neither words nor measure,

and for the other,
l have no strength in measure,

yet a reasonable measure in strength.
(CHUCKLES)

Before God, Kate,
l have no cunning in protestation;

only downright oaths,
which l never use till urged,

nor never break for urging.

lf thou canst love a fellow
of this temper, Kate,

whose face is not worth sun-burning,

that never looks in his glass
for love of anything he sees there,

let thine eye be thy cook.

lf thou would have such a one, take me;

and take me, take a soldier;

take a soldier, take a king.

And what sayest thou then to my love?

Speak, my fair, and fairly, l pray thee.

ls it possible that l should love
de enemy of France?

No; it is not possible you should love
the enemy of France, Kate:

but, in loving me,
you should love the friend of France;

for l love France so well
l will not part with a village of it;

l will have it all mine:

and, Kate,
when France is mine and l am yours,

then yours is France and you are mine.

l cannot tell what is that.

No, Kate?

(lNHALES SHARPLY)
l will tell thee in French.

La plus belle Katherine du monde,

mon très cher et devin déesse?

Your majestee have fausse French enough

to deceive de most sage demoiselle
dat is en France.

Now, fie upon my false French!

By mine honour, in true English,
l love thee, Kate:

by which honour l dare not swear
thou lovest me;

yet my blood begins to flatter me thou dost,

notwithstanding the poor
and untempering effect of my visage.

Now, beshrew my father's ambition!
He was thinking of civil wars when he got me:

therefore was l created
with the stubborn outside,

with an aspect of iron,
that, when l come to woo ladies, l fright them.

(CHUCKLES)

But, in faith, Kate, the elder l wax,
the better l shall appear.

(GlGGLES)

Therefore tell me, most fair Katherine,

will you have me?

Put off your maiden blushes;

avouch the thoughts of your heart
with the looks of an empress;

take me by the hand,
And say "Harry of England l am thine:"

which word thou shalt no sooner
bless mine ear withal,

but l will tell thee aloud
"England is thine, lreland 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.

That is as it shall please de roi mon père.

Nay, it will please him well, Kate
it shall please him, Kate.

Then it shall also content me.

Upon that l kiss your hand,
and l call you my queen.

Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez.

Ma foi, je ne veux point que vous abaissiez
votre grandeur en baisant la main d'une

de votre seigeurie indigne serviteur.
Excusez-moi, je vous supplie;

mon très-puissant seigneur.

Then l will kiss your lips, Kate.

(LAUGHS)

Les dames et demoiselles pour
être baisées devant leur noces,

il n'est pas la coutume de France.

Madam my interpreter, what says she?

That it is not be the fashion
pour les ladies of France,

l cannot tell what is baiser en English.

To kiss.

Ah.

Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.

lt is not a fashion for the maids in France

to kiss before they are married,
would she say?

Oui, vraiment

Hmm.

O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings.

You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate:

and there is more eloquence
in a sugar touch of them

than in the tongues of the French council;

and they should sooner persuade
Harry of England

than a general petition of monarchs.

(DOOR OPENS)

Here comes your father.

God save your majesty! My royal cousin,
teach you our princess English?

(CHUCKLES)

l would have her learn, my fair cousin,

how perfectly l love her;
and that is good English.

Now, do l have my cousin's consent,

shall Kate be my wife?

So please you. We have consented
to all terms of reason.

ls't so, my lords of England?

The king hath granted every article:

His daughter first, and then in sequel all,

According to their firm proposed natures.

l pray you then, in love and dear alliance,
Give me your daughter.

(SlGHS)

Take her, fair son,

and from her blood raise up
lssue to me;

that the contending kingdoms
Of France and England,

whose very shores look pale
With envy of each other's happiness,

May cease their hatred,

and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood

and Christian-like accord
ln their sweet bosoms,

that never war advance
lts bleeding sword

'twixt England and fair France.

-EXETER: Amen.
-Amen.

God, the best maker of all marriages,

Combine your hearts in one,
your realms in one!

As man and wife, being two, are one in love,

So be there 'twixt your kingdoms
such a spousal,

That never may ill office or fell jealousy,

Which troubles oft the bed
of blessed marriage,

Thrust in between the paction
of these kingdoms

To make divorce of their incorporate league;

That English may as French,
French Englishmen,

Receive each other.

God speak this Amen.

MEN: Amen.

Prepare we for our marriage

Then shall l swear to Kate, and she to me;

And may our oaths well kept
and prosperous be!

(ARCHBlSHOP PRAYlNG lN LATlN)

Amen.

-CROWD: Amen.
-Amen.

CHORUS: Thus far,
with rough and all-unable pen,

Our bending author hath pursued the story,

ln little room confining mighty men,

Mangling by starts
the full course of their glory.

SmaII time,
but in that small 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 the Sixth,
in the infant bands crown'd 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.

For their sake,

ln your fair minds let this acceptance take.