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[Up in the air, crown’d with the golden fun,]
Saw his heroic seed, and smil'd to see him
Mangle the work of nature: and deface
The patterns, that by God and by French fathers

twenty years been made. This is a stem
Of that vidtorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him.

Enter a Messenger. Mefl. Ambassadors from Harry, King of England, Do crave admittance to your Majesty. Fr. King. We'll give them present audience. Go,

and bring them. You see, this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau. Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs Most spend their mouths, when, what they seem to

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, it not lo vile a fin,
As self negle&ing.


Enter Exeter.
FROM our brother England?

Fr. King. F Exe

. 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, 'long To him and to his heirs; namely, the Crown; And all the wide-ftretch'd honours, that pertain By custom and the ordinance of times, Unto the Crown of France. That you may know, 'Tis no finifter nor no aukward claim,

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Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd;
He sends you this most memorable Line,
In every branch truly demonstrative,

Gives the French King a Paper.
Willing you over-look this pedigree;
And when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his most fam'd of famous ancestors,
Edward the Third; he bids you then refign
Your Crown and Kingdom, indire&ly held
From him the native and true challenger.

Fr. King. Or else what follows ?

Exe. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the Crown
Ev'n in

your hearts, there will he rake for it.
And therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder, and in earthquake, like a Jove :
That, if requiring fail, he may compel.
He bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the Crown ; and to take mercy
On the

souls, for whom this hungry war
Opens his vafty jaws; upon 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 threatning, and my message ;
Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
To whom exprefly I bring Greeting too.

Fr. King. For us, we will consider of this further :
To-morrow shall


bear our full intent Back to our brother England.

Dau. For the Dauphin,
I stand here for him; what to him from England ?

Exe. Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt,
And any thing that may not mis-become
The mighty fender, doth be prize you at.
Thus says my King; and if your father's Highness
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,


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Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty ;
He'll call you to so hot an answer for it,
That caves and womby vaultages of France
* Shall chide your trespass, and return your mock
In second accent to his ordinance.

Dau. Say, if my father render fair reply,
It is against my will; for I desire
Nothing but odds with England; to that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity,
I did present him with those Paris balls.

Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe:
And, be assur'd, you'll find a difference,
(As we his subjects have in wonder found)
Between the promiss of his greener days,
And these he masters now; now he weighs time
Even to the utmost grain, which you fall read
In your own losses, if he stay in France.
Fr. King. To-morrow you shall know our mind at

(Flourish. Exe. Dispatch us with all speed, left that our King Come here himself to question our delay; For he is footed in this land already. Fr. King. You shall be foon dispatch'd with fair

conditions: A night is but small breath, and little pause, To answer matters of this consequence. [Exeunt.


S CE N E 1.

Enter CHORUS. Chorus. T HUS with imagin'd wing our swift scene



* Shall hide your trespass, -] Mr. Pope righily corrected it, Shall ·

chide+A& III. SCENE I.] This whole Ad (and all the Rest of the Play) very much enlarged and improved by the Author, since the Editions of 1600, and 1608.

Mr. Pupe.


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In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose, that you have seen
The well-appointed King at Hampton Peer
Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With filken streamers the young Phæbus fanning.
Play with your fancies; and in them behold,
Upon the hempen tackle, ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whittle, which doth order give
To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden fails,
Borne with th’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 rivage, and behold
A city on th' inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this Fleet majeftical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, Follow.
Grapple your minds to fternage of this navy,
And leave your England, as dead midnight still,
Guarded with grandfires, babies and old women;
Or past, or not arriv’d, to pith and puissance':
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 ?
Work, work your thoughts, and therein fee a fiege;
Behold the ordnance on their carriages
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose, th'ambassador from France comes back;
Tells Harry, that the King dóth offer him
Catharine his daughter, and with her to dowry
Some petty and unprofitable Dukedoms :
The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner
With lynstock now the devilish cannon touches,

[Alarm, and Cannon go off. And down


all before him. Still be kind, And eke out our performance with your mind.



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K. Henry. ONCE i morse

, concomibre breach, dear

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Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester;

Soldiers, with scaling ladders.

more unto the

, once more ;
Or close the wall up with the English dead.
In peace, there's nothing fo becomes a man
As modeft ftillness and humility :
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the Tyger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it

thro' the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon: let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock
O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the iteth, and stretch the nostril wide ;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height. Now on, you noblest English,
Whole blood is fetcht from fathers of war-proof;
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now atteft,
That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war; and you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were inade in England, shew us here
The mettle of your pasture: let us swear

you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not:
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes ;

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