The Life of King Henry the Fifth
Уильям Шекспир




William Shakespeare

The Life of King Henry the Fifth




DRAMATIS PERSONAE

CHORUS

KING HENRY THE FIFTH

DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, brother to the King

DUKE OF BEDFORD, " " " "

DUKE OF EXETER, Uncle to the King

DUKE OF YORK, cousin to the King

EARL OF SALISBURY

EARL OF WESTMORELAND

EARL OF WARWICK

ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

BISHOP OF ELY

EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, conspirator against the King

LORD SCROOP, " " " "

SIR THOMAS GREY, " " " "

SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, officer in the King's army

GOWER, " " " " "

FLUELLEN, " " " " "

MACMORRIS, " " " " "

JAMY, " " " " "

BATES, soldier in the King's army

COURT, " " " " "

WILLIAMS, " " " " "

NYM, " " " " "

BARDOLPH, " " " " "

PISTOL, " " " " "

BOY A HERALD

CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France

LEWIS, the Dauphin DUKE OF BURGUNDY

DUKE OF ORLEANS DUKE OF BRITAINE

DUKE OF BOURBON THE CONSTABLE OF FRANCE

RAMBURES, French Lord

GRANDPRE, " "

GOVERNOR OF HARFLEUR MONTJOY, a French herald

AMBASSADORS to the King of England

ISABEL, Queen of France

KATHERINE, daughter to Charles and Isabel

ALICE, a lady attending her

HOSTESS of the Boar's Head, Eastcheap; formerly Mrs. Quickly, now married to Pistol Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, Attendants




SCENE: England and France





PROLOGUE PROLOGUE


Enter CHORUS

		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!
		Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
		Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
		Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
		Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,
		The flat unraised spirits that hath dar'd
		On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
		So great an object. 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?
		O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
		Attest in little place a million;
		And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
		On your imaginary forces work.
		Suppose within the girdle of these walls
		Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
		Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
		The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.
		Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
		Into a thousand parts divide one man,
		And make imaginary puissance;
		Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
		Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth;
		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
		Into an hour-glass; for the which supply,
		Admit me Chorus to this history;
		Who prologue-like, your humble patience pray
		Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. Exit




ACT I. SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace



Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP OF ELY

		CANTERBURY. My lord, I'll tell you: that self bill is urg'd
		Which in th' eleventh year of the last king's reign
		Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd
		But that the scambling and unquiet time
		Did push it out of farther question.
		ELY. But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?
		CANTERBURY. It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
		We lose the better half of our possession;
		For all the temporal lands which men devout
		By testament have given to the church
		Would they strip from us; being valu'd thus-
		As much as would maintain, to the King's honour,
		Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,
		Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;
		And, to relief of lazars and weak age,
		Of indigent faint souls, past corporal toil,
		A hundred alms-houses right well supplied;
		And to the coffers of the King, beside,
		A thousand pounds by th' year: thus runs the bill.
		ELY. This would drink deep.
		CANTERBURY. 'T would drink the cup and all.
		ELY. But what prevention?
		CANTERBURY. The King is full of grace and fair regard.
		ELY. And a true lover of the holy Church.
		CANTERBURY. The courses of his youth promis'd it not.
		The breath no sooner left his father's body
		But that his wildness, mortified in him,
		Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment,
		Consideration like an angel came
		And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him,
		Leaving his body as a paradise
		T'envelop and contain celestial spirits.
		Never was such a sudden scholar made;
		Never came reformation in a flood,
		With such a heady currance, scouring faults;
		Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulnes
		So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
		As in this king.
		ELY. We are blessed in the change.
		CANTERBURY. Hear him but reason in divinity,
		And, all-admiring, with an inward wish
		You would desire the King were made a prelate;
		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 rend'red you in music.
		Turn him to any cause of policy,
		The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
		Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
		The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
		And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears
		To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences;
		So that the art and practic part of life
		Must be the mistress to this theoric;
		Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it,
		Since his addiction was to courses vain,
		His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow,
		His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports;
		And never noted in him any study,
		Any retirement, any sequestration
		From open haunts and popularity.
		ELY. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle,
		And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
		Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality;
		And so the Prince obscur'd his contemplation
		Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
		Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
		Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.
		CANTERBURY. It must be so; for miracles are ceas'd;
		And therefore we must needs admit the means
		How things are perfected.
		ELY. But, my good lord,
		How now for mitigation of this bill
		Urg'd by the Commons? Doth his Majesty
		Incline to it, or no?
		CANTERBURY. He seems indifferent
		Or rather swaying more upon our part
		Than cherishing th' exhibiters against us;
		For I have made an offer to his Majesty-
		Upon our spiritual convocation
		And in regard of causes now in hand,
		Which I have open'd to his Grace at large,
		As touching France- to give a greater sum
		Than ever at one time the clergy yet
		Did to his predecessors part withal.
		ELY. How did this offer seem receiv'd, my lord?
		CANTERBURY. With good acceptance of his Majesty;
		Save that there was not time enough to hear,
		As I perceiv'd his Grace would fain have done,
		The severals and unhidden passages
		Of his true tides to some certain dukedoms,
		And generally to the crown and seat of France,
		Deriv'd from Edward, his great-grandfather.
		ELY. What was th' impediment that broke this off?
		CANTERBURY. The French ambassador upon that instant
		Crav'd audience; and the hour, I think, is come
		To give him hearing: is it four o'clock?
		ELY. It is.
		CANTERBURY. Then go we in, to know his embassy;
		Which I could with a ready guess declare,
		Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.
		ELY. I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. Exeunt




SCENE II. London. The Presence Chamber in the KING'S palace


Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and attendants

		KING HENRY. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
		EXETER. Not here in presence.
		KING HENRY. Send for him, good uncle.
		WESTMORELAND. Shall we call in th' ambassador, my liege?
		KING HENRY. Not yet, my cousin; we would be resolv'd,
		Before we hear him, of some things of weight
		That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.


Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP OF ELY

		CANTERBURY. God and his angels guard your sacred throne,
		And make you long become it!
		KING HENRY. Sure, we thank you.
		My learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
		And justly and religiously unfold
		Why the law Salique, 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, wrest, or bow your reading,
		Or nicely charge your understanding soul
		With opening titles miscreate whose right
		Suits not in native colours with the truth;
		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, a sore complaint,
		'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords
		That makes such waste in brief mortality.
		Under this conjuration speak, my lord;
		For we will hear, note, and believe in heart,
		That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd
		As pure as sin with baptism.
		CANTERBURY. 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 Pharamond:
		'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant'-
		'No woman shall succeed in Salique land';
		Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze
		To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
		The founder of this law and female bar.
		Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
		That the land Salique is in Germany,
		Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
		Where Charles the Great, having subdu'd the Saxons,
		There left behind and settled certain French;
		Who, holding in disdain the German women
		For some dishonest manners of their life,
		Establish'd then this law: to wit, no female
		Should be inheritrix in Salique land;
		Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
		Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
		Then doth it well appear the Salique law
		Was not devised for the realm of France;
		Nor did the French possess the Salique land
		Until four hundred one and twenty years
		After defunction of King Pharamond,
		Idly suppos'd the founder of this law;
		Who died within the year of our redemption
		Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
		Subdu'd the Saxons, and did seat the French
		Beyond the river Sala, in the year
		Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
		King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,
		Did, as heir general, being descended
		Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,
		Make claim and title to the crown of France.
		Hugh Capet also, who usurp'd the crown
		Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
		Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
		To find his title with some shows of truth-
		Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught-
		Convey'd himself as th' heir to th' Lady Lingare,
		Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
		To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the son
		Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,
		Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
		Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
		Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied
		That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
		Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,
		Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine;
		By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
		Was re-united to the Crown of France.
		So that, as clear as is the summer's sun,
		King Pepin's title, and Hugh Capet's claim,
		King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear
		To hold in right and tide of the female;
		So do the kings of France unto this day,
		Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
		To bar your Highness claiming from the female;
		And rather choose to hide them in a net
		Than amply to imbar their crooked tides
		Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.
		KING HENRY. May I with right and conscience make this claim?
		CANTERBURY. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
		For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
		When the man dies, let the inheritance
		Descend unto the daughter. 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,
		From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
		And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
		Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
		Making defeat on the fun power of France,
		Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
		Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
		Forage in blood of French nobility.
		O noble English, that could entertain
		With half their forces the full pride of France,
		And let another half stand laughing by,
		All out of work and cold for action!
		ELY. 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
		Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
		Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
		EXETER. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
		Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
		As did the former lions of your blood.
		WESTMORELAND. They know your Grace hath cause and means and
		might-
		So hath your Highness; never King of England
		Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
		Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
		And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.
		CANTERBURY. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
		With blood and sword and fire to win your right!
		In aid whereof we of the spiritualty
		Will raise your Highness such a mighty sum
		As never did the clergy at one time
		Bring in to any of your ancestors.
		KING HENRY. We must not only arm t' invade the French,
		But lay down our proportions to defend
		Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
		With all advantages.
		CANTERBURY. They of those marches, gracious sovereign,
		Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
		Our inland from the pilfering borderers.
		KING HENRY. We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
		But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
		Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;
		For you shall read that my great-grandfather
		Never went with his forces into France
		But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
		Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
		With ample and brim fulness of his force,
		Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,
		Girdling with grievous siege castles and towns;
		That England, being empty of defence,
		Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood.
		CANTERBURY. She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my
		liege;
		For hear her but exampled by herself:
		When all her chivalry hath been in France,
		And she a mourning widow of her nobles,
		She hath herself not only well defended
		But taken and impounded as a stray
		The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
		To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings,
		And make her chronicle as rich with praise
		As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
		With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
		WESTMORELAND. But there's a saying, very old and true:

		'If that you will France win,
		Then with Scotland first begin.'

		For once the eagle England being in prey,
		To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
		Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs,
		Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
		To tear and havoc more than she can eat.
		EXETER. It follows, then, the cat must stay at home;
		Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
		Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries
		And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
		While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
		Th' advised head defends itself at home;
		For government, though high, and low, and lower,
		Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
		Congreeing in a full and natural close,
		Like music.
		CANTERBURY. Therefore doth heaven divide
		The state of man in divers functions,
		Setting endeavour in continual motion;
		To which is fixed as an aim or but
		Obedience; for so work the honey bees,
		Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
		The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
		They have a king, and officers of sorts,
		Where some like magistrates correct at home;
		Others like merchants venture trade abroad;
		Others like soldiers, armed in their stings,
		Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
		Which pillage they with merry march bring home
		To the tent-royal of their emperor;
		Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
		The singing masons building roofs of gold,
		The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
		The poor mechanic porters crowding in
		Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
		The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum,
		Delivering o'er to executors pale
		The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,
		That many things, having full reference
		To one consent, may work contrariously;
		As many arrows loosed several ways
		Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town,
		As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea,
		As many lines close in the dial's centre;
		So many a thousand actions, once afoot,
		End in one purpose, and be all well home
		Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
		Divide your happy England into four;
		Whereof take you one quarter into France,
		And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
		If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
		Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,
		Let us be worried, and our nation lose
		The name of hardiness and policy.
		KING HENRY. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.


Exeunt some attendants

		Now are we well resolv'd; and, by God's help
		And yours, the noble sinews of our power,
		France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
		Or break it all to pieces; or there we'll sit,
		Ruling in large and ample empery
		O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,
		Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
		Tombless, with no remembrance over them.
		Either our history shall with full mouth
		Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
		Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
		Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.

Enter AMBASSADORS of France

		Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
		Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
		Your greeting is from him, not from the King.
		AMBASSADOR. May't please your Majesty to give us leave
		Freely to render what we have in charge;
		Or shall we sparingly show you far of
		The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?
		KING HENRY. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king,
		Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
		As are our wretches fett'red in our prisons;
		Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness
		Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
		AMBASSADOR. Thus then, in few.
		Your Highness, lately sending into France,
		Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right
		Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
		In answer of which claim, the Prince our master
		Says that you savour too much of your youth,
		And bids you be advis'd there's nought in France
		That can be with a nimble galliard won;
		You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
		He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
		This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
		Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
		Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
		KING HENRY. What treasure, uncle?
		EXETER. Tennis-balls, my liege.
		KING HENRY. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;
		His present and your pains we thank you for.
		When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,
		We will in France, by God's grace, play a set
		Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
		Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
		That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
		With chaces. And we understand him well,
		How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
		Not measuring what use we made of them.
		We never valu'd this poor seat of England;
		And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
		To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common
		That men are merriest when they are from home.
		But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state,
		Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness,
		When I do rouse me in my throne of France;
		For that I have laid by my majesty
		And plodded like a man for working-days;
		But I will rise there with so full a glory
		That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
		Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
		And tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his
		Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones, and his soul
		Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance
		That shall fly with them; for many a thousand widows
		Shall this his mock mock of their dear husbands;
		Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;
		And some are yet ungotten and unborn
		That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn.
		But this lies all within the will of God,
		To whom I do appeal; and in whose name,
		Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
		To venge me as I may and to put forth
		My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
		So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin
		His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
		When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.
		Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.


Exeunt AMBASSADORS

		EXETER. This was a merry message.
		KING HENRY. We hope to make the sender blush at it.
		Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
		That may give furth'rance to our expedition;
		For we have now no thought in us but France,
		Save those to God, that run before our business.
		Therefore let our proportions for these wars
		Be soon collected, and all things thought upon
		That may with reasonable swiftness ad
		More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
		We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
		Therefore let every man now task his thought
		That this fair action may on foot be brought. Exeunt




ACT II. PROLOGUE



Flourish. Enter CHORUS

		CHORUS. Now all the youth of England are on fire,
		And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies;
		Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
		Reigns solely in the breast of every man;
		They sell the pasture now to buy the horse,
		Following the mirror of all Christian kings
		With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
		For now sits Expectation in the air,
		And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
		With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets,
		Promis'd to Harry and his followers.
		The French, advis'd by good intelligence
		Of this most dreadful preparation,
		Shake in their fear and with pale policy
		Seek to divert the English purposes.
		O England! model to thy inward greatness,
		Like little body with a mighty heart,
		What mightst thou do that honour would thee do,
		Were all thy children kind and natural!
		But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
		A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
		With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men-
		One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second,
		Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third,
		Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland,
		Have, for the gilt of France- O guilt indeed! -
		Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;
		And by their hands this grace of kings must die-
		If hell and treason hold their promises,
		Ere he take ship for France- and in Southampton.
		Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
		Th' abuse of distance, force a play.
		The sum is paid, the traitors are agreed,
		The King is set from London, and the scene
		Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton;
		There is the play-house now, there must you sit,
		And thence to France shall we convey you safe
		And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
		To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
		We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
		But, till the King come forth, and not till then,
		Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. Exit




SCENE I. London. Before the Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap


Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH

		BARDOLPH. Well met, Corporal Nym.
		NYM. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
		BARDOLPH. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
		NYM. For my part, I care not; I say little, but when time shall
		serve, there shall be smiles- but that shall be as it may. I
		dare
		not fight; but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a
		simple
		one; but what though? It will toast cheese, and it will
		endure
		cold as another man's sword will; and there's an end.
		BARDOLPH. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and
		we'll
		be all three sworn brothers to France. Let't be so, good
		Corporal
		Nym.
		NYM. Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of
		it;
		and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may. That
		is my
		rest, that is the rendezvous of it.
		BARDOLPH. It is certain, Corporal, that he is married to Nell
		Quickly; and certainly she did you wrong, for you were
		troth-plight to her.
		NYM. I cannot tell; things must be as they may. Men may sleep,
		and
		they may have their throats about them at that time; and some
		say
		knives have edges. It must be as it may; though patience be a
		tired mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions.
		Well, I
		cannot tell.

Enter PISTOL and HOSTESS

		BARDOLPH. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good
		Corporal, be
		patient here.
		NYM. How now, mine host Pistol!
		PISTOL. Base tike, call'st thou me host?
		Now by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;
		Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
		HOSTESS. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and
		board a
		dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick
		of
		their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy-house
		straight. [Nym draws] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn!
		Now
		we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.
		BARDOLPH. Good Lieutenant, good Corporal, offer nothing here.
		NYM. Pish!
		PISTOL. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of
		Iceland!
		HOSTESS. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your
		sword.
		NYM. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
		PISTOL. 'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!
		The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face;
		The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
		And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy;
		And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!
		I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels;
		For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up,
		And flashing fire will follow.
		NYM. I am not Barbason: you cannot conjure me. I have an humour
		to
		knock you indifferently well. If you grow foul with me,
		Pistol, I
		will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms; if
		you
		would walk off I would prick your guts a little, in good
		terms,
		as I may, and thaes the humour of it.
		PISTOL. O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
		The grave doth gape and doting death is near;
		Therefore exhale. [PISTOL draws]

		BARDOLPH. Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the
		first
		stroke I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
		[Draws]
		PISTOL. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
		[PISTOL and Nym sheathe their swords]
		Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
		Thy spirits are most tall.
		NYM. I will cut thy throat one time or other, in fair terms;
		that
		is the humour of it.
		PISTOL. 'Couple a gorge!'
		That is the word. I thee defy again.
		O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
		No; to the spital go,
		And from the powd'ring tub of infamy
		Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
		Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse.
		I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
		For the only she; and- pauca, there's enough.
		Go to.

Enter the Boy

		BOY. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master; and your
		hostess- he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph,
		put
		thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a
		warming-pan.
		Faith, he's very ill.
		BARDOLPH. Away, you rogue.
		HOSTESS. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of
		these
		days: the King has kill'd his heart. Good husband, come home
		presently. Exeunt HOSTESS and BOY
		BARDOLPH. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France
		together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one
		another's throats?
		PISTOL. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
		NYM. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
		PISTOL. Base is the slave that pays.
		NYM. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.
		PISTOL. As manhood shall compound: push home.
		[PISTOL and Nym draw]
		BARDOLPH. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust I'll
		kill
		him; by this sword, I will.
		PISTOL. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
		[Sheathes his sword]
		BARDOLPH. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends; an
		thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prithee put
		up.
		NYM. I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?
		PISTOL. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
		And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
		And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
		I'll live by Nym and Nym shall live by me.
		Is not this just? For I shall sutler be
		Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
		Give me thy hand.
		NYM. [Sheathing his sword] I shall have my noble?
		PISTOL. In cash most justly paid.
		NYM. [Shaking hands] Well, then, that's the humour of't.

Re-enter HOSTESS

		HOSTESS. As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir
		John.
		Ah, poor heart! he is so shak'd of a burning quotidian
		tertian
		that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.
		NYM. The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that's the
		even
		of it.
		PISTOL. Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
		His heart is fracted and corroborate.
		NYM. The King is a good king, but it must be as it may; he
		passes
		some humours and careers.
		PISTOL. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.


Exeunt




SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber


Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND

		BEDFORD. Fore God, his Grace is bold, to trust these traitors.
		EXETER. They shall be apprehended by and by.
		WESTMORELAND. How smooth and even they do bear themselves,
		As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
		Crowned with faith and constant loyalty!
		BEDFORD. The King hath note of all that they intend,
		By interception which they dream not of.
		EXETER. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
		Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours-
		That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
		His sovereign's life to death and treachery!


Trumpets sound. Enter the KING, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and attendants

		KING HENRY. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
		My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham,
		And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts.
		Think you not that the pow'rs we bear with us
		Will cut their passage through the force of France,
		Doing the execution and the act
		For which we have in head assembled them?
		SCROOP. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
		KING HENRY. I doubt not that, since we are well persuaded
		We carry not a heart with us from hence
		That grows not in a fair consent with ours;
		Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
		Success and conquest to attend on us.
		CAMBRIDGE. Never was monarch better fear'd and lov'd
		Than is your Majesty. There's not, I think, a subject
		That sits in heart-grief and uneasines
		Under the sweet shade of your government.
		GREY. True: those that were your father's enemies
		Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you
		With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
		KING HENRY. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness,
		And shall forget the office of our hand
		Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
		According to the weight and worthiness.
		SCROOP. So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
		And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
		To do your Grace incessant services.
		KING HENRY. We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,
		Enlarge the man committed yesterday
		That rail'd against our person. We consider
		It was excess of wine that set him on;
		And on his more advice we pardon him.
		SCROOP. That's mercy, but too much security.
		Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example
		Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
		KING HENRY. O, let us yet be merciful!
		CAMBRIDGE. So may your Highness, and yet punish too.
		GREY. Sir,
		You show great mercy if you give him life,
		After the taste of much correction.
		KING HENRY. Alas, your too much love and care of me
		Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch!
		If little faults proceeding on distemper
		Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye
		When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
		Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,
		Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear care
		And tender preservation of our person,
		Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes:
		Who are the late commissioners?
		CAMBRIDGE. I one, my lord.
		Your Highness bade me ask for it to-day.
		SCROOP. So did you me, my liege.
		GREY. And I, my royal sovereign.
		KING HENRY. Then, Richard 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.
		My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter,
		We will aboard to-night. Why, how now, gentlemen?
		What see you in those papers, that you lose
		So much complexion? Look ye how they change!
		Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there
		That have so cowarded and chas'd your blood
		Out of appearance?
		CAMBRIDGE. I do confess my fault,
		And do submit me to your Highness' mercy.
		GREY, SCROOP. To which we all appeal.
		KING HENRY. The mercy that was quick in us but late
		By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd.
		You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
		For your own reasons turn into your bosoms
		As dogs upon their masters, worrying 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 him with an appertinents
		Belonging to his honour; and this man
		Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd,
		And sworn unto the practices of France
		To kill us here in Hampton; to the which
		This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
		Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O,
		What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop, thou cruel,
		Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature?
		Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
		That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
		That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,
		Wouldst thou have practis'd on me for thy use-
		May it be possible that foreign hire
		Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
		That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange
		That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
		As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.
		Treason and murder ever kept together,
		As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
		Working so grossly in a natural cause
		That admiration did not whoop at them;
		But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
		Wonder to wait on treason and on murder;
		And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
		That wrought upon thee so preposterously
		Hath got the voice in hell for excellence;
		And other devils that suggest by treasons
		Do botch and bungle up damnation
		With patches, colours, and with forms, being fetch'd
		From glist'ring semblances of piety;
		But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,
		Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
		Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
		If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus
		Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
		He might return to vasty Tartar back,
		And tell the legions 'I can never win
		A soul so easy as that Englishman's.'
		O, how hast thou with jealousy infected
		The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?
		Why, so didst thou. Seem they grave and learned?
		Why, so didst thou. Come they of noble family?
		Why, so didst thou. Seem they religious?
		Why, so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
		Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
		Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
		Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
		Not working with the eye without the ear,
		And but in purged judgment trusting neither?
		Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem;
		And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot
		To mark the full-fraught man and best indued
		With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
		For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
		Another fall of man. Their faults are open.
		Arrest them to the answer of the law;
		And God acquit them of their practices!
		EXETER. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard
		Earl
		of Cambridge.
		I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord
		Scroop
		of Masham.
		I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey,
		knight, of Northumberland.
		SCROOP. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd,
		And I repent my fault more than my death;
		Which I beseech your Highness to forgive,
		Although my body pay the price of it.
		CAMBRIDGE. For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
		Although I did admit it as a motive
		The sooner to effect what I intended;
		But God be thanked for prevention,
		Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,
		Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
		GREY. Never did faithful subject more rejoice
		At the discovery of most dangerous treason
		Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself,
		Prevented from a damned enterprise.
		My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
		KING HENRY. God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.
		You have conspir'd against our royal person,
		Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers
		Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death;
		Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
		His princes and his peers to servitude,
		His subjects to oppression and contempt,
		And his whole kingdom into desolation.
		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, and true repentance
		Of all your dear offences. Bear them hence.


Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP, and GREY, guarded

		Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof
		Shall be to 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
		To hinder our beginnings; we doubt not now
		But every rub is smoothed on our way.
		Then, forth, dear countrymen; let us deliver
		Our puissance into the hand of God,
		Putting it straight in expedition.
		Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance;
		No king of England, if not king of France!


Flourish. Exeunt




SCENE III. Eastcheap. Before the Boar's Head tavern


Enter PISTOL, HOSTESS, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy

		HOSTESS. Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to
		Staines.
		PISTOL. No; for my manly heart doth earn.
		Bardolph, be blithe; Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins;
		Boy, bristle thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead,
		And we must earn therefore.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/uilyam-shekspir/the-life-of-king-henry-the-fifth/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.


