[_EXETER goes to door U.E.L.H, and calls on the Guard._
And Heaven acquit them of their practises!
_Exe._ (_comes down, R.C._) 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._ (_R., kneeling._)
Our purposes Heaven justly hath discover'd;
And I repent my fault more than my death.
_Cam._ (_R., kneeling._)
For me,--the gold of France did not seduce;(B)
Although I did admit it as a motive
The sooner to effect what I intended:
But Heaven be thanked for prevention;
Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,[11]
Beseeching Heaven and you to pardon me.
_Grey._ (_R. kneeling._) 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 enterprize:
My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
_K. Hen._ (C.) Heaven quit you in its 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;(C)
But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,[12]
Whose ruin you three sought, that to her laws
We do deliver you. Get you, therefore, hence,
Poor miserable wretches, to your death:
The taste whereof, Heaven of its mercy give you
Patience to endure, and true repentance
Of all your dear offences![13]--Bear them hence.
[_Conspirators rise and exeunt guarded, with EXETER._
Now, Lords, for France; the enterprize whereof
Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since Heaven so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason, lurking in our way.
Then, forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver
Our puissance[14] into the hand of Heaven,
Putting it straight in expedition.
Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:(D)
No king of England, if not king of France.
[_Exeunt, U.E.L.H._
[Footnote II.1: _----in a fair consent with ours,_] i.e., in
friendly concord; in unison with ours.]
[Footnote II.2: _----hearts +create+_] Hearts _compounded_ or
_made up_ of duty and zeal.]
[Footnote II.3: _----more advice,_] On his return to more
_coolness of mind_.]
[Footnote II.4: _Are heavy orisons 'gainst, &c._] i.e., are
weighty supplications against this poor wretch.]
[Footnote II.5: _----proceeding on +distemper+,_] _Distemper'd in
liquor_ was a common expression. We read in Holinshed, vol. iii.,
page 626:-- "gave him wine and strong drink in such excessive
sort, that he was therewith _distempered_, and reeled as he
went."]
[Footnote II.6: _----how shall we stretch our eye_] If we may not
_wink_ at small faults, _how wide must we open our eyes_ at
great.]
[Footnote II.7: _Who are the late commissioners?_] That is, who
are the persons lately appointed commissioners.]
[Footnote II.8: _----quick_] That is, _living_.]
[Footnote II.9: _----as gross_] As palpable.]
[Footnote II.10:
_----though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black from white,_]
Though the truth be as apparent and visible as black and white
contiguous to each other. To _stand off_ is _ГЄtre relevГЁ_, to be
prominent to the eye, as the strong parts of a picture.
--JOHNSON.]
[Footnote II.11: _Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,_]
Cambridge means to say, _at_ which prevention, or, which intended
scheme that it was prevented, I shall rejoice. Shakespeare has
many such elliptical expressions. The intended scheme that he
alludes to was the taking off Henry, to make room for his
brother-in-law. --MALONE.]
[Footnote II.12: _----our kingdom's safety must so tender,_] i.e.,
must so regard.]
[Footnote II.13: _----dear offences!----_] _To dere_, in ancient
language, was _to hurt_; the meaning, therefore, is hurtful--
pernicious offences.]
[Footnote II.14: _Our puissance_] i.e., our power, our force.]
SCENE II.--FRANCE. A ROOM IN THE FRENCH KING'S PALACE.
_Trumpets sound._
_Enter the FRENCH KING,[15] attended; the DAUPHIN, the DUKE OF
BURGUNDY, the CONSTABLE, and Others,(E) L.H._
_Fr. King._ (C.) Thus come the English with full power upon us;
And more than carefully it us concerns[16]
To answer royally in our defences.
Therefore the Dukes of Berry and of Bretagne,
Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,--
And you, Prince Dauphin,--with all swift despatch,
To line and new repair our towns of war
With men of courage and with means defendant.
_Dau._ (R.C.) My most redoubted father,
It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe:
And let us do it with no show of fear;
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance:
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.
_Con._ (L.C.) O peace, prince Dauphin
You are too much mistaken in this king:
With what great state he heard our embassy,
How well supplied with noble counsellors,
How modest in exception,[17] and withal
How terrible in constant resolution,
And you shall find his vanities fore-spent
Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
Covering discretion with a coat of folly.
_Dau._ Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable;
But though we think it so, it is no matter:
In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
The enemy more mighty than he seems:
So the proportions of defence are fill'd.
_Fr. King._ Think we King Harry strong;
And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
And he is bred out of that bloody strain[18]
That haunted us[19] in our familiar paths:
Witness our too much memorable shame
When Cressy battle fatally was struck,
And all our princes captiv'd by the hand
Of that black name, Edward, black prince of Wales;
Whiles that his mountain sire,--on mountain standing,
Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,--[20]
Saw his heroical seed, and smil'd to see him
Mangle the work of nature, and deface
The patterns that by Heaven and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made. This is a stem
Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him.[21]
_Enter MONTJOY,[22] L.H., and kneels C. to the KING._
_Mont._ Ambassadors from Henry King of England
Do crave admittance to your majesty.
_Fr. King._ We'll give them present audience.
(_MONTJOY rises from his knee._)
Go, and bring them.
[_Exeunt MONTJOY, and certain LORDS, L.H._
You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.
_Dau._ Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs
Most spend their mouths,[23] 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.
[_FRENCH KING takes his seat on Throne, R._
_Re-enter MONTJOY, LORDS, with EXETER and Train, L.H._
_Fr. King._ From our brother England?
_Exe._ (L.C.) From him; and thus he greets your majesty.
He wills you, in the awful name of Heaven,
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 wide-stretched honours that pertain,
By custom and the ordinance of times
Unto the crown of France. That you may know
'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,
Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd,
He sends you this most memorable line,[24]
[_Gives a paper to MONTJOY, who delivers it kneeling to the KING._
In every branch truly demonstrative;
Willing you overlook 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 resign
Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
From him the native and true challenger.
_Fr. King._ Or else what follows?
_Exe._ Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it:
Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove.
(That, if requiring fail, he will compel):
This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message;
Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
To whom expressly I bring greeting too.
_Fr. King._ For us, we will consider of this further:
To-morrow shall you bear our full intent
Back to our brother England.
[_MONTJOY rises, and retires to R._
_Dau._ (_R. of throne._) 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 misbecome
The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.
Thus says my king: an if your father's highness
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty,
He'll call you to so hot an answer for it,
That caves and womby vaultages of France
Shall chide your trespass,[25] and return your mock
In second accent of his ordnance.
_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:
And, be assur'd, you'll find a difference
Between the promise of his greener days
And these he masters now: now he weighs time,
Even to the utmost grain: which you shall read[26]
In your own losses, if he stay in France.
_Fr. King._ To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.
_Exe._ Despatch us with all speed, lest that our king
Come here himself to question our delay;
For he is footed in this land already.
_Fr. King._ You shall be soon despatch'd with fair conditions:
[_MONTJOY crosses to the English party._
A night is but small breath and little pause
To answer matters of this consequence.
[_English party exit, with MONTJOY and others, L.H.
French Lords group round the KING._
_Trumpets sound._
[Footnote II.15: ----FRENCH KING,] The costume of Charles VI. is
copied from Willemin, Monuments Français. The dresses of the other
Lords are selected from Montfaucon Monarchie Françoise.]
[Footnote II.16: _----more than carefully it us concerns,_] _More
than carefully_ is _with more than common care_; a phrase of the
same kind with _better than well_. --JOHNSON.]
[Footnote II.17: _How modest in exception,_] How diffident and
decent in making objections.]
[Footnote II.18: _----strain_] _lineage_.]
[Footnote II.19: _That +haunted+ us_] To _haunt_ is a word of the
utmost horror, which shows that they dreaded the English as
goblins and spirits.]
[Footnote II.20: _----crown'd with the golden sun,--_]
Shakespeare's meaning (divested of its poetical fancy) probably
is, that the king stood upon an eminence, with the sun shining
over his head. --STEEVENS.]
[Footnote II.21: _----+fate+ of him._] His _fate_ is what is
allotted him by destiny, or what he is fated to perform.]
[Footnote II.22: _Montjoy,_] Mont-joie is the title of the
principal king-at-arms in France, as Garter is in our country.]
[Footnote II.23: _----spend their mouths,_] That is, bark; the
sportsman's term.]
[Footnote II.24: _----memorable +line+,_] This genealogy; this
deduction of his _lineage_.]
[Footnote II.25: _Shall +chide+ your trespass,_] To _chide_ is to
_resound_, to _echo_.]
[Footnote II.26: _----you shall read_] i.e., shall _find_.]
END OF ACT SECOND.
HISTORICAL NOTES TO CHORUS--ACT SECOND.
(A) _These 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 guilt of France (O, guilt, indeed!)
Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France._
About the end of July, Henry's ambitious designs received a momentary
check from the discovery of a treasonable conspiracy against his person
and government, by Richard, Earl of Cambridge, brother of the Duke of
York; Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham, the Lord Treasurer; and Sir Thomas
Grey, of Heton, knight. The king's command for the investigation of the
affair, was dated on the 21st of that month, and a writ was issued to
the Sheriff of Southampton, to assemble a jury for their trial; and
which on Friday, the 2nd of August, found that on the 20th of July,
Richard, Earl of Cambridge, and Thomas Grey, of Heton, in the County of
Northumberland, knight, had falsely and traitorously conspired to
collect a body of armed men, to conduct Edmund, Earl of March,[*] to the
frontiers of Wales, and to proclaim him the rightful heir to the crown,
in case Richard II. was actually dead; but they had solicited Thomas
Frumpyngton, who personated King Richard, Henry Percy, and many others
from Scotland to invade the realm, that they had intended to destroy the
King, the Duke of Clarence, the Duke of Bedford, the Duke of Gloucester,
with other lords and great men; and that Henry, Lord Scroop, of Masham,
consented to the said treasonable purposes, and concealed the knowledge
of them from the king. On the same day the accused were reported by Sir
John Popham, Constable of the Castle of Southampton, to whose custody
they had been committed, to have confessed the justice of the charges
brought against them, and that they threw themselves on the king's
mercy; but Scroop endeavoured to extenuate his conduct, by asserting
that his intentions were innocent, and that he appeared only to
acquiesce in their designs to be enabled to defeat them. The Earl and
Lord Scroop having claimed the privilege of being tried by the peers,
were remanded to prison, but sentence of death in the usual manner was
pronounced against Grey, and he was immediately executed; though, in
consequence of Henry having dispensed with his being drawn and hung, he
was allowed to walk from the Watergate to the Northgate of the town of
Southampton, where he was beheaded. A commission was soon afterwards
issued, addressed to the Duke of Clarence, for the trial of the Earl of
Cambridge and Lord Scroop: this court unanimously declared the prisoners
guilty, and sentence of death having been denounced against them, they
paid the forfeit of their lives on Monday, the 5th of August. In
consideration of the earl being of the blood royal, he was merely
beheaded; but to mark the perfidy and ingratitude of Scroop, who had
enjoyed the king's utmost confidence and friendship, and had even shared
his bed, he commanded that he should be drawn to the place of execution,
and that his head should be affixed on one of the gates of the city of
York. --_Nicolas's History of the Battle of Agincourt_.
[Footnote *: At that moment the Earl of March was the lawful
heir to the crown, he being the heir general of Lionel, Duke of
Clarence, _third_ son of Edward III, whilst Henry V. was but the
heir of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, King Edward's _fourth_
son.]
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT SECOND.
(A) _----the man that was his bedfellow,_] So, Holinshed: "The said Lord
Scroop was in such favour with the king, that he admitted him sometimes
to be his _bedfellow_." The familiar appellation, of _bedfellow_, which
appears strange to us, was common among the ancient nobility. There is a
letter from the sixth Earl of Northumberland (still preserved in the
collection of the present duke), addressed "To his beloved cousin,
Thomas Arundel," &c., which begins "_Bedfellow_, after my most hastГ©
recommendation." --_Steevens_.
This unseemly custom continued common till the middle of the last
century, if not later. Cromwell obtained much of his intelligence,
during the civil wars, from the mean men with whom he slept. --_Malone_.
After the battle of Dreux, 1562, the Prince of CondГ© slept in the same
bed with the Duke of Guise; an anecdote frequently cited, to show the
magnanimity of the latter, who slept soundly, though so near his
greatest enemy, then his prisoner. --_Nares._
(B) _For me,--the gold of France did not seduce;_] Holinshed observes,
"that Richard, Earl of Cambridge, did not conspire with the Lord Scroop
and Thomas Grey, for the murdering of King Henry to please the French
king, but only to the intent to exalt to the crown his brother-in-law
Edmund, Earl of March, as heir to Lionel, Duke of Clarence; after the
death of which Earl of March, for divers secret impediments not able to
have issue, the Earl of Cambridge was sure that the crown should come to
him by his wife, and to his children of her begotten; and therefore (as
was thought), he rather confessed himself for need of money to be
corrupted by the French king, than he would declare his inward mind,
&c., which if it were espied, he saw plainly that the Earl of March
should have tasted of the same cup that he had drunk, and what should
have come to his own children he merely doubted, &c."
A million of gold is stated to have been given by France to the
conspirators.
Historians have, however, generally expressed their utter inability to
explain upon what grounds the conspirators built their expectation of
success; and unless they had been promised powerful assistance from
France, the design seems to have been one of the most absurd and
hopeless upon record. The confession of the Earl of Cambridge, and his
supplication for mercy in his own hand writing, is in the British
Museum.
(C) _Touching our person, seek we no revenge;_] This speech is taken
from Holinshed:--
"Revenge herein touching my person, though I seek not; yet for the
safeguard of my dear friends, and for due preservation of all sorts,
I am by office to cause example to be showed: Get ye hence, therefore,
you poor miserable wretches, to the receiving of your just reward,
wherein God's majesty give you grace of his mercy, and repentance of
your heinous offences."
(D) _Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:_] "The king went from his
castle of Porchester in a small vessel to the sea, and embarking on
board his ship, called The Trinity, between the ports of Southampton and
Portsmouth, he immediately ordered that the sail should be set, to
signify his readiness to depart." "There were about fifteen hundred
vessels, including about a hundred which were left behind. After having
passed the Isle of Wight, swans were seen swimming in the midst of the
fleet, which, in the opinion of all, were said to be happy auspices of
the undertaking. On the next day, the king entered the mouth of the
Seine, and cast anchor before a place called Kidecaus, about three miles
from Harfleur, where he proposed landing." --_Nicolas's History of
Agincourt_.
The departure of Henry's army on this occasion, and the separation
between those who composed it and their relatives and friends, is thus
described by Drayton, who was born in 1563, and died in 1631:--
There might a man have seen in every street,
The father bidding farewell to his son;
Small children kneeling at their father's feet:
The wife with her dear husband ne'er had done:
Brother, his brother, with adieu to greet:
One friend to take leave of another, run;
The maiden with her best belov'd to part,
Gave him her hand who took away her heart.
The nobler youth the common rank above,
On their curveting coursers mounted fair:
One wore his mistress' garter, one her glove;
And he a lock of his dear lady's hair:
And he her colours, whom he did most love;
There was not one but did some favour wear:
And each one took it, on his happy speed,
To make it famous by some knightly deed.
(E) Enter the FRENCH KING, _the DAUPHIN, the_ DUKE OF BURGUNDY, _the
CONSTABLE, and others._] Charles VI., surnamed the Well Beloved, was
King of France during the most disastrous period of its history. He
ascended the throne in 1380, when only thirteen years of age. In 1385 he
married Isabella of Bavaria, who was equally remarkable for her beauty
and her depravity. The unfortunate king was subject to fits of insanity,
which lasted for several months at a time. On the 21st October, 1422,
seven years after the battle of Agincourt, Charles VI. ended his unhappy
life at the age of 55, having reigned 42 years. Lewis the Dauphin was
the eldest son of Charles VI. He was born 22nd January, 1396, and died
before his father, December 18th, 1415, in his twentieth year. History
says, "Shortly after the battle of Agincourt, either for melancholy that
he had for the loss, or by some sudden disease, Lewis, Dovphin of
Viennois, heir apparent to the French king, departed this life without
issue."
John, Duke of Burgundy, surnamed the Fearless, succeeded to the dukedom
in 1403. He caused the Duke of Orleans to be assassinated in the streets
of Paris, and was himself murdered August 28, 1419, on the bridge of
Montereau, at an interview with the Dauphin, afterwards Charles VII.
John was succeeded by his only son, who bore the title of Philip the
Good, Duke of Burgundy.
The Constable, Charles D'Albret, commanded the French army at the Battle
of Agincourt, and was slain on the field.
_Enter CHORUS._
_Chor._ Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
The well-appointed king[1] at Hampton pier
Embark his royalty;[2] and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning:
Play with your fancies; and in them behold
Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give
To sounds confus'd; 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 rivage,[3] and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy;[4]
And leave your England, as dead midnight still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
Either 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 see a siege;
Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back;
Tells Harry--that the king doth offer him
Katharine his daughter; and with her, to dowry,
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
With linstock[5] now the devilish cannon touches,
[_Alarums, and cannon shot off._
And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind.
[_Exit._
[Footnote IIIc.1: _The well-appointed king_] i.e., well furnished
with all the necessaries of war.]
[Footnote IIIc.2: _Embark his royalty;_] The place where Henry's
army was encamped, at Southampton, is now entirely covered with
the sea, and called Westport.]
[Footnote IIIc.3: _----rivage,_] The _bank_ or shore.]
[Footnote IIIc.4: _----to +sternage+ of this navy;_] The stern
being the hinder part of the ship, the meaning is, let your minds
follow close after the navy. _Stern_, however, appears to have
been anciently synonymous to _rudder_.]
Scene Changes to
THE SIEGE OF HARFLEUR.
THE WALLS ARE MANNED BY THE FRENCH.
The English Are Repulsed from
an Attack on the Breach.
_Alarums. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, and
Soldiers, R.H._
_K. Hen._ Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead![6]
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger!
On, on, you noble English,
Whose blood is fet[7] from fathers of war-proof!
And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding: which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,[8]
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge,
Cry--God for Harry! England! and Saint George!
[_The English charge upon the breach, headed by the KING.
Alarums. The GOVERNOR of the Town appears on the walls
with a flag of truce._
_K. Hen._ How yet resolves the governour of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit:
Therefore, to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or, like to men proud of destruction,
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier
(A name that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,)
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
_Gov._ Our expectation hath this day an end:
The Dauphin, whom of succour we entreated,[9]
Returns us--that his powers are not yet ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, dread king,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our town; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.
[_Soldiers shout._
[_The GOVERNOR and others come from the town, and kneeling,
present to KING HENRY the keys of the city._
_K. Hen._ Come, uncle Exeter, R.
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,--
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers,--we'll retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur[*] will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.[10]
[_March. English army enter the town through the breach._
[Footnote *: Extracts from the Account of the Siege of Harfleur,
selected from the pages of the anonymous Chronicler who was an
eyewitness of the event.
"Our King, who sought peace, not war, in order that he might
further arm the cause in which he was engaged with the shield of
justice offered peace to the besieged, if they would open the
gates to him, and restore, as was their duty, freely, without
compulsion, that town, the noble hereditary portion of his Crown
of England, and of his Dukedom of Normandy.
"But as they, despising and setting at nought this offer, strove
to keep possession of, and to defend the town against him, our
King summoned to fight, as it were, against his will, called upon
God to witness his just cause * * * he (King Henry) gave himself
no rest by day or night, until having fitted and fixed his engines
and guns under the walls, he had planted them within shot of the
enemy, against the front of the town, and against the walls,
gates, and towers, of the same * * * so that taking aim at the
place to be battered, the guns from beneath blew forth stones by
the force of ignited powers, * * * and in the mean time our King,
with his guns and engines, so battered the said bulwark, and the
walls and towers on every side, that within a few days, by the
impetuosity and fury of the stones, the same bulwark was in a
great part broken down; and the walls and towers from which the
enemy had sent forth their weapons, the bastions falling in ruins,
were rendered defenceless; and very fine edifices, even in the
middle of the city, either lay altogether in ruins, or threatened
an inevitable fall; or at least were so shaken as to be
exceedingly damaged. * * * And although our guns had disarmed the
bulwark, walls, and towers during the day, the besieged by night,
with logs, faggots, and tubs on vessels full of earth, mud, and
sand or stones, piled up within the shattered walls, and with
other barricadoes, refortified the streets. * * * The King had
caused towers and wooden bulwarks to the height of the walls, and
ladders and other instruments, besides those which he had brought
with him for the assault." --We are then told that the enemy
contrived to set these engines on fire 'by means of powders, and
combustibles prepared on the walls.'
The History then states that "a fire broke out where the strength
of the French was greater, and the French themselves were overcome
with resisting, and in endeavouring to extinguish the fire, until
at length by force of arms, darts, and flames, their strength was
destroyed. Leaving the place therefore to our party, they fled and
retreated beneath the walls for protection; most carefully
blocking up the entrance with timber, stones, earth, and mud, lest
our people should rush in upon them through the same passage."
"On the following day a conference was held with the Lord de
Gaucort, who acted as Captain, and with the more powerful leaders,
whether it was the determination of the inhabitants to surrender
the town without suffering further rigour of death or war. * * *
On that night they entered into a treaty with the King, that if
the French King, or the Dauphin, his first-born, being informed,
should not raise the seige, and deliver them by force of arms
within the first hour after morn on the Sunday following, they
would surrender to him the town, and themselves, and their
property."
"And neither at the aforesaid hour on the following Sunday, nor
within the time, the French King, the Dauphin, nor any one else,
coming forward to raise the siege. * * * The aforesaid Lord de
Gaucort came from the town into the king's presence, accompanied
by those persons who before had sworn to keep the articles, and
surrendering to him the keys of the Corporation, submitted
themselves, together with the citizens, to his grace. * * * Then
the banners of St. George and the King were fixed upon the gates
of the town, and the King advanced his illustrious uncle, the Lord
Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset (afterwards Duke of Exeter) to be
keeper and captain of the town, having delivered to him the keys."
Thus, after a vigorous siege of about thirty-six days, one of the
most important towns of Normandy fell into the hands of the
invaders. The Chronicler in the text informs us, that the
dysentery had carried off infinitely more of the English army than
were slain in the siege; that about five thousand men were then so
dreadfully debilitated by that disease, that they were unable to
proceed, and were therefore sent to England; that three hundred
men-at-arms and nine hundred archers were left to garrison
Harfleur; that great numbers had cowardly deserted the King, and
returned home by stealth; and that after all these deductions, not
more than nine hundred lances and five thousand archers remained
fit for service.
Hume, in his History of England, relates that "King Henry landed
near Harfleur, at the head of an army of 6,000 men-at-arms, and
24,000 foot, mostly archers. He immediately began the siege of
that place, which was valiantly defended by d'EstoГјleville, and
under him by de Guitri, de Gaucourt, and others of the French
nobility; but as the garrison was weak, and the fortifications in
bad repair, the governor was at last obliged to capitulate, and he
promised to surrender the place if he received no succour before
the 18th of September. The day came, and there was no appearance
of a French army to relieve him. Henry, taking possession of the
town, placed a garrison in it, and expelled all the French
inhabitants, with an intention of peopling it anew with English.
The fatigues of this siege, and the unusual heat of the season,
had so wasted the English army, that Henry could enter on no
farther enterprise, and was obliged to think of returning to
England. He had dismissed his transports, which could not anchor
in an open road upon the enemy's coasts, and he lay under a
necessity of marching by land to Calais before he could reach a
place of safety. A numerous French army of 14,000 men at-arms, and
40,000 foot, was by this time assembled in Normandy, under the
constable d'Albret, a force which, if prudently conducted, was
sufficient either to trample down the English in the open field,
or to harass and reduce to nothing their small army before they
could finish so long and difficult a march. Henry, therefore,
cautiously offered to sacrifice his conquest of Harfleur for a
safe passage to Calais; but his proposal being rejected, he
determined to make his way by valour and conduct through all the
opposition of the enemy."]
[Footnote IIIc.5: _----linstock_] The staff to which the match is
fixed when ordnance is fired.]
[Footnote IIIc.6: _Or close the wall up with our English dead!_]
i.e. re-enter the breach you have made, or fill it up with your
own dead bodies.]
[Footnote IIIc.7: _Whose blood is +fet+_] To fet is an obsolete
word meaning _to fetch_. That is, "whose blood is derived," &c.
The word is used by Spencer and Ben Jonson.]
[Footnote IIIc.8: _----like greyhounds in the +slips+,_] _Slips_
are a contrivance of leather, to start two dogs at the same time.]
[Footnote IIIc.9: _----whom of succour we entreated,_] This
phraseology was not uncommon in Shakespeare's time.]
[Footnote IIIc.10: _----are we +addrest+._] i.e., prepared.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.--FRANCE. ROOM IN THE FRENCH KING'S PALACE.
_Trumpets sound._
_Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, DUKE OF BOURBON, the
CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, and others, L.H._
_Fr. King._ (C.) 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
_Con._ (R.C.) And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
Let us not live in France; let us quit all,
And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
_Dau._ (R.) By faith and honour,
Our madams mock at us;
They bid us--to the English dancing-schools,
And teach lavoltas high[1] and swift corantos;[2]
Saying our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.
_Fr. King._ Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence:
Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.--
Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edg'd
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons[3] painted in the blood of Harfleur:
Go down upon him,--you have power enough,--
And in a captive chariot into Rouen
Bring him our prisoner.
_Con._ This becomes the great.
Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
His soldiers sick, and famish'd in their march;
For, I am sure, when he shall see our army,
He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
And, for achievement offer us his ransom.[4]
_Fr. King._ Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy;
[_CONSTABLE crosses to L._
And let him say to England, that we send
To know what willing ransom he will give.--
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
_Dau._ Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
_Fr. King._ Be patient; for you shall remain with us.--
Now, forth, lord constable (_Exit CONSTABLE, L.H._), and princes all,
And quickly bring us word of England's fall.
[_Exeunt L.H._
_Trumpets sound._
[Footnote III.1: _----lavoltas high_] A dance in which there was
much turning, and much capering.]
[Footnote III.2: _----swift corantos;_] A corant is a sprightly
dance.]
[Footnote III.3: _With +pennons+_] _Pennons_ armorial were small
flags, on which the arms, device, and motto of a knight were
painted.]
SCENE II.--A VIEW IN PICARDY.
_Distant Battle heard._
_Enter GOWER, L.U.E., meeting FLUELLEN, R.H._
_Gow._ (C.) How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?(A)
_Flu._ (R.C.) I assure you, there is very excellent service committed at
the pridge.
_Gow._ Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
_Flu._ The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that
I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my life,
and my livings, and my uttermost powers: he is not (Heaven be praised
and plessed!) any hurt in the 'orld; but keeps the pridge most
valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an ensign there at the
pridge,--I think in my very conscience he is as valiant as Mark Antony;
and he is a man of no estimation in the 'orld; but I did see him do
gallant service.
_Gow._ What do you call him?
_Flu._ He is called--ancient Pistol.[5]
_Gow._ I know him not.
_Enter PISTOL, R.H._
_Flu._ Do you not know him? Here comes the man.
_Pist._ Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours:
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
_Flu._ Ay, I praise Heaven; and I have merited some love at his hands.
_Pist._ Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
Of buxom valour,[6] hath,--by cruel fate,
And giddy fortune's furious fickle wheel,
That goddess blind.
That stands upon the rolling restless stone,--[7]
_Flu._ By your patience, ancient Pistol. Fortune is painted plind, with
a muffler before her eyes,[8] to signify to you that fortune is plind;
And she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the
moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and variations, and
mutabilities: and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone,
which rolls, and rolls, and rolls:--In good truth, the poet makes a most
excellent description of fortune: fortune, look you, is an excellent
moral.
_Pist._ Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
For he has stolen a _pix_,[9] and hang'd must 'a be.(B)
A damned death!
Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free,
[_Crosses to L.H._
But Exeter hath given the doom of death,
For _pix_ 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 I will thee requite.
[_Crosses to R.H._
_Flu._ Ancient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
_Pist._ Why, then, rejoice therefore.
_Flu._ Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at: for if,
look you, he were my prother, I would desire the duke to use his goot
pleasure, and put him to executions; for disciplines ought to be used.
_Pist._ _Fico_ for thy friendship![10]
_Flu._ It is well.
_Pist._ The fig of Spain![11]
[_Exit PISTOL, R.H._
_Flu._ Very goot.
_Gow._ Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; a cut-purse;
I remember him now.
_Flu._ I'll assure you, 'a utter'd as prave 'ords at the pridge as you
shall see in a summer's day.
_Gow._ Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the
wars, to grace himself, at his return into London, under the form of a
soldier. You must learn to know such slanders of the age,[12] or else
you may be marvellously mistook.
_Flu._ I tell you what, Captain Gower;--I do perceive, he is not the man
that he would gladly make show to the 'orld he is: if I find a hole in
his coat, I will tell him my mind. [_March heard._] Hark you, the king
is coming; and I must speak with him from the pridge.[13]
_Enter KING HENRY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, WESTMORELAND, Lords,
and Soldiers, L.H.U.E._
_Flu._ (R.) Heaven pless your majesty!
_K. Hen._ (C.) How now, Fluellen! cam'st thou from the bridge?
_Flu._ Ay, so please your majesty. The duke of Exeter has very gallantly
maintained the pridge: the French has gone off, look you; and there is
gallant and most prave passages: Marry, th'athversary was have
possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to retire, and the duke of
Exeter is master of the pridge: I can tell your majesty, the duke is a
prave man.
_K. Hen._ What men have you lost, Fluellen?
_Flu._ The perdition of th'athversary hath been very great, very
reasonable great: marry, for my part, I think the duke hath lost never a
man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one
Bardolph, if your majesty knows the man: his face is all bubukles,[14]
and whelks,[15] and knobs, and flames of fire: and his lips plows at his
nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue, and sometimes red;
but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.[16]
_K. Hen._ We would have all such offenders so cut off.
[_Trumpet sounds without, R._
_Enter MONTJOY and Attendants, R.H._
_Mont._ (_uncovers and kneels._) You know me by my habit.[17]
_K. Hen._ Well, then, I know thee: What shall I know of thee?
_Mont._ My master's mind.
_K. Hen._ Unfold it.
_Mont._ Thus says my king:--Say thou to Harry of England: Though we
seemed dead, we did but sleep. Tell him, he shall repent his folly, see
his weakness, and admire our sufferance.[18] 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. To
this add--defiance: and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his
followers, whose condemnation is pronounced. So far my king and master;
so much my office.
_K. Hen._What is thy name? I know thy quality.
_Mont._ Montjoy.
_K. Hen._ Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
And tell thy king,--I do not seek him now;
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment:[19] for, to say the sooth
(Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage),
My people are with sickness much enfeebled;
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have,
Almost no better than so many French;
Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought, upon one pair of English legs,
Did march three Frenchmen.--Forgive me, Heaven,
That I do brag thus!--this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am;
My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army but a weak and sickly guard:
Yet, Heaven before,[20] tell him we will come on,
Though France himself,[21] and such another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.
Go, bid thy master well advise himself:
If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour:(C) 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.
_Mont._ I shall deliver so.
(_MONTJOY rises from his knee._)
Thanks to your highness.
[_Exit MONTJOY with Attendants, R.H._
_Glo._ I hope they will not come upon us now.
_K. Hen._ We are in Heaven's hand, brother, not in theirs.
March to the bridge; it now draws toward night:
Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves;
And on to-morrow bid them march away.
[_Exeunt, R.H._
_March._
[Footnote III.4: _And, for achievement, offer up his ransom._]
i.e., instead of fighting, he will offer to pay ransom.]
[Footnote III.5: _----ancient Pistol._] Ancient, a standard or
flag; also the ensign bearer, or officer, now called an ensign.]
[Footnote III.6: _Of buxom valour,_] i.e., valour under good
command, obedient to its superiors. The word is used by Spencer.]
[Footnote III.7: _----upon the rolling restless stone,--_] Fortune
is described by several ancient authors in the same words.]
[Footnote III.8: _----with a muffler before her eyes,_] A muffler
was a sort of veil, or wrapper, worn by ladies in Shakespeare's
time, chiefly covering the chin and throat.]
[Footnote III.9: _For he hath stolen a pix,_] A _pix_, or little
chest (from the Latin _pixis_, a box), in which the consecrated
_host_ was used to be kept.]
[Footnote III.10: _Fico for thy friendship!_] Fico is fig--it was
a term of reproach.]
[Footnote III.11: _The fig of Spain!_] An expression of contempt
or insult, which consisted in thrusting the thumb between two of
the closed fingers, or into the mouth; whence _Bite the thumb_.
The custom is generally regarded as being originally Spanish.
--NARES.]
[Footnote III.12: _----such slanders of the age,_] Cowardly
braggarts were not uncommon characters with the old dramatic
writers.]
[Footnote III.13: _----I must speak with him from the pridge._]
_From_ for _about_--concerning the fight that had taken place
there.]
[Footnote III.14: _----bubukles,_] A corrupt word for carbuncles,
or something like them.]
[Footnote III.15: _----and whelks,_] i.e., stripes, marks,
discolorations.]
[Footnote III.16: _----his fire's out._] This is the last time
that any sport can be made with the red face of Bardolph.]
[Footnote III.17: _----by my habit,_] That is, by his herald's
coat. The person of a herald being inviolable, was distinguished
in those times of formality by a peculiar dress, which is likewise
yet worn on particular occasions.]
[Footnote III.18: _----admire our sufferance._] i.e., our
patience, moderation.]
[Footnote III.19: _Without impeachment:_] i.e., hindrance.
_Empechement_, French.]
[Footnote III.20: _Yet, Heaven before,_] In the acting edition,
the name of God is changed to Heaven. This was an expression in
Shakespeare's time for _God being my guide_.]
[Footnote III.21: _Though France himself,_] i.e., though _the King
of France_ himself.]
END OF ACT THIRD.
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT THIRD.
(A) _Come you from the bridge?_] After Henry had passed the Somme, Titus
Livius asserts, that the King having been informed of a river which must
be crossed, over which was a bridge, and that his progress depended in a
great degree upon securing possession of it, despatched some part of his
forces to defend it from any attack, or from being destroyed. They found
many of the enemy ready to receive them, to whom they gave battle, and
after a severe conflict, they captured the bridge, and kept it.
(B) _Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
For he hath stol'n a pix, and hanged must 'a be._
It will be seen by the following extract from the anonymous Chronicler
how minutely Shakespeare has adhered to history-- "There was brought to
the King in that plain a certain English robber, who, contrary to the
laws of God and the Royal Proclamation, had stolen from a church a pix
of copper gilt, found in his sleeve, which he happened to mistake for
gold, in which the Lord's body was kept; and in the next village where
he passed the night, by decree of the King, he was put to death on the
gallows." Titus Livius relates that Henry commanded his army to halt
until the sacrilege was expiated. He first caused the pix to be restored
to the Church, and the offender was then led, bound as a thief, through
the army, and afterwards hung upon a tree, that every man might behold
him.
(C) _Go, bid thy master well advise himself:
If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour:_]
My desire is, that none of you be so _unadvised_, as to be the occasion
that I in my defence shall _colour_ and make _red your tawny ground_
with the effusion of Christian blood. When he (Henry) had thus answered
the Herald, he gave him a great reward, and licensed him to depart.
--_Holinshed_.
_Enter CHORUS._
_Cho._ 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,[1]
That the fix'd sentinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other's watch:[2]
Fire answers fire;[3] and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other's umber'd face:[4]
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.
Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty[5] French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;[6]
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away.
_Scene opens and discovers the interior of a French tent, with the
DAUPHIN, the CONSTABLE, ORLEANS, and others, playing at dice._
_Dau._ Will it never be day?
_Con._ I would it were morning; for I would fain be about the ears of
the English.
_Dau._ Who will go to hazard with me for twenty English prisoners?
_Orl._ The prince longs to eat the English.
_Con._ Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for
the dawning, as we do.
