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me; take a foldier; take a King: and what fay'ft thou then to my love? fpeak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Cath. Is it poffible dat I fould love de enemy of France? K. Henry. No, it is not poffible that you fhould love the enemy of France, Kate; but in loving me you should 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 France is mine and I am yours, then yours is France, and you are mine.

Cath. I cannot tell vhat is dat.

K. Henry. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, (which, I am fure, will hang upon my tongue like a new married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be fhook off) quand j' ay le poffeffion de France, & quand vous aves le poffeffion de moi (let me fee, what then? St. Dennis be my speed!) donc voftre eft France, & vous eftes mienne. It is as eafie for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom, as to speak fo much more French: I fhall never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me.

Cath. Sauf voftre bonneur, le Francois que vous parlez, eft mellieur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.

K. Henry. No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy fpeaking of my tongue and I thine, moft truly falfly, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, doft thou understand thus much English? canft thou love me?

Cath. I cannot tell.

K. Henry. Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come, I know thou loveft me; and at night when you come into your clofet, you'll queftion this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her difpraise those parts in me, that you love with your heart; but, good Kate, mock me mercifully, the rather, gentle Princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou beeft mine, Kate, (as I have faving faith within me, tells me, thou fhalt) I get thee with fcambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good foldier-breeder: fhall not thou and I between St. Dennis and St. George, compound a boy half French, half Englife, that fhall go to Conftan

tinople

tinople and take the Turk by the beard? fhall we not? what fay'st thou, my fair Flower-de-luce? (43)

Cath. I do not know dat.

K. Henry. No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promife; do but now promife, Kate, you will endeavour for your French part of fuch a boy; and for my English moiety, take the word of a King and a batchelor. How answer you, La plus belle Catharine du monde, mon tres chere & divine deeffe.

Cath. Your Majeftee ave faufe Frenche enough to deceive de most fage damoifel dat is en France.

K. Henry. Now, fie upon my falfe French; by mine honour, in true English I love thee, Kate; by which honour I dare not fwear thou loveft me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou doft, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my vifage. Now befhrew my father's ambition, he was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo ladies I fright them: but, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I fhall appear. My comfort is, that old age (that ill layer up of beauty) can do no more fpoil upon my face. Thou haft me, if thou haft me, at the worft; and thou fhalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better; and therefore tell me, most fair Ca tharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes, avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an Empress, take me by the hand and fay, Harry of England, I am thine; which word thou shalt no fooner blefs mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud, England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, tho' I fpeak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best King, thou fhalt find the beft King of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken mufick; for thy voice is mufick, and thy English

(43) That fhall go to Conftantinople, and take the Turk by the beard?] The Poet is unwittingly guilty of an Anachronism in this paffage; for the Turks were not Mafters of Conftantinople till the Year 1453, (in the Beginning of Mahomet the II. his Reign,) when K. Henry V. had been dead 31 years.

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broken therefore Queen of all, Catharine, break thy mind to me in broken English, wilt thou have me? Cath. Dat is, as it fhall please le roy mon pere..

K. Henry. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.

Cath. Den it fhall alfo content me.

K. Henry. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my Queen.

Cath. Laiffez, mon feigneur, laiffez, laiffez: ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaiffez voftre grandeur, en baifant la main d'une vostre indigne ferviteure; excufez moy, Je vous fupplie, mon tres-puissant Seigneur.

K. Henry. Then I will kifs your lips, Kate.

Cath. Les dames & damoifels pour eftre baifées devant leur nopces, il n'eft pas le coutume de France.

K. Henry. Madam my interpreter, what fays fhe? Lady. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France; I cannot tell, what is baiffer en English. K. Henry. To kiss.

Lady. Your Majefty entendre bettre que moy.

K. Henry. Is it not a fashion for the maids in France to kifs before they are married, would she say?

Lady. Ouy, vrayement.

K. Henry. O Kate, nice cuftoms curt'fie to great Kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confin'd within the weak lift of a country's fashion; we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty, that follows our places, ftops the mouth of all find-faults, as I will do yours, for the upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kifs; therefore patiently and yielding. [Kiffing her.] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in a touch of them, than in the tongues of the French Council; and they fhould fooner perfuade Harry of England, than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.

Enter the French King and Queen, with French and Englifh Lords.

Burg. God fave your Majefty! my royal coufin, teach

you our Princess English?

K. Henry.

K. Henry. I would have her learn, my fair coufin, how perfectly I love her, and that is good English. Burg. Is the apt?

K. Henry. Our tongue is rough, and my condition is not fmooth; fo that having neither the voice nor the heart of Flattery about me, I cannot fo conjure up the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in his true likenefs. (44)

Burg. Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle: if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her then, being a maid yet ros'd over with the virgin crimson of modefty, if fhe deny the appearance of a naked blind boy, in her naked feeing felf? it were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to confign to.

K. Henry. Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.

Burg. They are then excus'd, my lord, when they fee not what they do.

K. Henry. Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to confent to winking.

Burg. I will wink on her to confent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning. Maids, well fummer'd and warm kept, are like Flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes: and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking

on.

K. Henry. This moral ties me over to time, and a hot fummer; and fo I fhall catch the Flie your coufin in the latter end, and she must be blind too.

(44) Our Tongue is rough, and my Condition not smooth; fo that having neither the Voice nor the Heart of Hatred about me.] What Mock-reasoning is here! Where the Tongue is rough and harth, and the Difpofition rugged too, do not both the Voice and Heart give Sufpicion of Hatred, or, at leaft, Diflike? If the late Editor purposely departed from the Text here, he should have given us his Reasons for it if he did not, the Deviation is no great Praise to his Diligence as a Collator. The Old Folio's read, Flattery about me, which makes all easie and confonant.

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Burg. As love is, my lord, before it loves.

K. Henry. It is fo; and you may fome of you thank love for my blindness, who cannot fee many a fair French city, for one fair French maid that ftands in my way.

Fr. King. Yes, my lord, you fee them perfpectively; the cities turn'd into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls, that war hath never enter❜d.

K. Henry, Shall Kate be

my wife? Fr. King. So please you.

K. Henry. I am content, fo the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her; fo the maid, that stood in the way for my wifh, fhall fhew me the way to my will.

Fr. King. We have confented to all terms of reafon. K. Henry. Is't fo, my lords of England? Weft. The King hath granted every article: His daughter firft; and then in fequel all, According to their firm propofed nature.

Exe. Only he hath not yet fubfcribed this:

Where your Majefty demands, That the King of France, having occafion to write for matter of grant, fhall name your Highness in this form, and with this addition in French: noftre tres cher filz Henry Roy d'Angleterre, beretier de France and thus in Latin; Præclariffimus filius nofter Henricus Rex Angliæ & hæres Francia.

Fr. King. Yet this I have not (brother) fo deny'd, But your requeft fhall make me let it pass.

K. Henry. I pray you then, in love and dear alliance, Let that one article rank with the rest,

And thereupon give me your daughter.

[raife up

Fr. King. Take her, fair fon, and from her blood

Iffue to me; that thefe contending Kingdoms,
England and France, whofe very fhores look pale
With envy of each other's happiness,

May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood and chriftian-like accord
In their fweet breafts; that never war advance

His bleeding fword 'twixt England and fair France,
Lords. Amen!

[all,

K. Henry. Now welcome, Kate; and bear me witness That here I kifs her, as my Soveraign Queen. [Flourish.

Q. Ifa.

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