Unto our brother France, and to our fifter,
Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes,
To our most fair and princely coufin Catharine;
And as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great affeinbly is contriv'd,
We do falute you, Duke of Burgundy.

And Princes French, and Peers, health to you all. Fr. King. Right joyous are we to behold your face;

Moft worthy brother England, fairly met!
So are you, Princes English, every one.

Q. Ifa. So happy be the ifiue, brother England,
Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,
As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
Your eyes, which hitherto have borne in them
Against the French, that met them in their bent,
The fatal balls of murdering bafilisks;
The venom of fuch looks we fairly hope
Have loft their quality, and that this day
Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
K. Henry. To cry Amen to that, thus we appear.
Q. Ifa. You English Princes all, I do falute you.
Burg. My duty to you both on equal love,
Great Kings of France and England. That I've
labour'd

With all my wits, my pains, and ftrong endeavours,
To bring your most imperial Majesties
Unto this bar and royal interview,

Your Mightineffes on both parts can witness.
Since then my office hath fo far prevail'd,
That, face to face, and royal eye to eye,
You have congreeted, let it not difgrace me
If I demand, before this royal view,
What rub or what impediment there is,
Why that the naked, poor, and mangled Peace,
Dear nurse of arts, plenties and joyful births,
Should not in this beft garden of the world,
Our fertile France, put up her lovely vifage?
Alas! he hath from France too long been chast,
And all her husbandry doth ly on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility.

'Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Unpruned dies; her hedges even pleach'd,
Like pritoners, wildly o'ergrown with hair,
Put forth diforder'd twigs: her fallow lees
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
Doth root upon; while that the coulter rufts
That fhould deracinate fuch favag'ry:

The even mead, that erft brought fweetly forth
The freckled cowflip, burnet, and green clover,
Wanting the fcythe, all uncorrected, rank,
Conceives by idlenefs; and nothing teems
But hateful docks, rough thiftles, keckfies, burs,
Lofing both beauty and utility.

And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
'Defective in their nurtures, grow to wildness;
Even fo our houses, and ourselves and children
Have loft, or do not learn for want of time,
The fciences that should become our country;
But grow like savages, as soldiers will,
That nothing do but meditate on blood,
To fwearing and ftern looks, diffus'd* attire,
And every thing that feems unnatural:
Which to reduce into our former favour,
You are affembled; and my speech intreats
That I may know the let, why gentle peace
Should not expel thefe inconveniencies,
And blefs us with her former qualities.

K. Henry. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the
peace,

Whofe want gives growth to th' imperfections
Which you have cited, you must buy that peace
With full accord to all our juft demands,
Whofe tenours and particular effects

You have enfchedul'd briefly in your hands.
Burg. The King hath heard them, to the which
There is no answer made.

[as yet

K. Henry. Well, then the peace
Which you before fo urg'd, lyes in his anfwer.
Fr. King. I have but with a curforary eye

Diffus'd for extravagant.

O'erglanc'd the articles: pleaseth your Grace
T'appoint fome of your council presently
To fit with us, once more with better heed
To re-furvey them; we will fuddenly
Pafs or accept, and peremptory answer.

K. Henry. Brother, we fhall. Go, uncle Exeter,
And brother Clarence, and you, brother Glo'fter,
Warwick and Huntington, go with the King,
And take with you free pow'r to ratify,
Augment or alter, as your wifdoms beft
Shall fee advantageable for our dignity,
Any thing in or out of our demands,

And we'll confign thereto. Will you, fair fister,
Go with the princes, or stay here with us?

Q. Ifa. Our gracious brother, I will go with them;
Haply a woman's voice may do fome good,
When articles too nicely urg'd be stood on.

K. Henry. Yet leave our coufin Catharine here with us.

She is our capital demand, compris'd Within the fore-rank of our articles. 2. Ifa. She hath good leave.

[Exerint.

Manent King Henry, Catharine, and a Lady.
K. Henry. Fair Catharine, moft fair,

Will you vouchfafe to teach a foldier terms,
Such as will enter at a lady's ear,

And plead his love-fuit to her gentle heart?

Cath. Your Majefty fhall mock at me,' I cannot fpeak your England.

K. Henry. O fair Catharine, if you will love me foundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confefs it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?

me.

Cath. Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vhat is like

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

Cath. Que dit-il, que je fuis femblable à les anges?
VOL. V.
B b

Lady. Ouy, vrayment, (fauf vostre grace) ainfi

dit-il.

K. Henry. I faid fo, dear Catharine, and I must not blush to affirm it.

Cath. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes font pleines de tromperies.

K. Henry. What fays fhe, fair one? that tongues of men are full of deceits!

Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de Princefs.

K. Henry. The Princess is the better English woman. I' faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad thou canft fpeak no better English; for if thou couldft, thou wouldst find me fuch a plain King *, that thou wouldnt think I had fold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, I love you; then if you urge me further than to fay, do you in faith? I wear out my fuit. Give me your answer; "i' faith, do; and fo clap hands and a bargain. How fay you, Lady?

Cath. Sauf voftre honneur, me understand well.

K. Henry. Marry, if you would put me to verses, or to dance for your fake, Kate, why, you undid me; for the one I have neither words nor measure; and for the other I have no ftrength in measure,

* I know not why Shakespeare now gives the King nearly fuch a character as he made him formerly ridi cule in Percy. This military groffnefs and unfkilfulnefs in all the fofter arts, does not fuit very well with the gaieties of his youth, with the general knowledge afcribed to him at his acceffion, or with the contemptuous meffage fent him by the Dauphin, who reprefents him as fitter for the ball-room than the field, and tells him that he is not to revel into duchies, or win provinces with a nimble galliard. The truth is, that the poet's matter failed him in the fifth act, and he was glad to fill it up with whatever he could get; and not even Shakefpeare can write well without a proper fubject. It is a vain endeavour for the most skilful hand to cultivate barrenness, or to paint upon vacuity. Johnson.

yet a reasonable measure in ftrength. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my faddle with my armour on my back; under the correction of bragging be it spoken, I fhould quickly leap into a wife. Or if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher, and fit like a jack-a-napes, never off. But, before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gafp out my eloquence, nor have I cunning in proteftation; only downright oaths, which Inever use 'till urg'd, and never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whofe face is not worth fun-burning, that never looks in his glafs for love of any thing he fees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I fpeak plain foldier; if thou canst love me for this, take me; if not, to fay to thee that I fhall die, 'tis true; but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou liv'ft, Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined conftancy, for he perforce muft do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places; for thefe fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do always reafon themfeves out again. What? a (peaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad; a good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curl'd pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the fun and the moon; or rather the fun, and not the moon; for it fhines bright and never changes, but keeps his courfe truly. If thou would'st have such a one, take me; take a foldier; take a King. And what say'st thou then to my love? fpeak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Cath. Is it poffible dat I should love de enemy of France?

K. Henry. No, it is not poffible that you should love the enemy of France, Kate; but in loving me you fhould love the friend of France; for I love France fo well, that I will not part with a village of it; I will have it all mine; and, Kate, when