Pist. Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?

Hence! I am qualinish at the smell of leek.

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

Flu. [Strikes him.] There is one goat for you. so goot, scald knave, as eat it?

Pist. Base Trojan, thou shall die.

Will you be

Flu. You say very true, scald knave: I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: [Striking him again.] come, there is sauce for it. You called me yesterday, mountainsquire, but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. Gow. Enough, captain: you have astonished him.

Flu. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days.-Pite, I pray you; it is goot for your green wound, and your ploody coxcomb.

Pist. Must I bite?

Flu. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of question too, and ambiguities.

Pist. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat,-and eat, I swear

Flu. Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

Pist. Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.

Flu. Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all.

Pist. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is good:-hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pist. Me a groat!

Flu. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels: you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. [Exeunt FLUELLEN and GoWER.

Pist. Doth fortune play the huswife with me now?

News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital.

And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honor is cudgelled.

To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-Troyes in Champagne. An Apartment in the French
King's Palace.

Enter, from one side, KING HENRY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER,
WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other Lords; from the other
side, the French King, Queen ISABEL, the Princess Katharine,
Lords, Ladies, &c., the DUKE OF BURGUNDY, and his train.
K. Hen. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!
Unto our brother France, and to our sister,
Health and fair time of day ;-joy and good wishes
To our most fair and princely cousin Katharine ;-
And, princes French, and peers, health to you all.
Fr. King. Right joyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England; fairly met :-
So are you, princes English, every one.

:

Q. Isa. Happy be the issue, brother England,
Of this good day and of this gracious meeting.
K. Hen. To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
Q. Isa. You English princes all, I do salute you.
Bur. My duty to you both, on equal love,

Great kings of France and England! That I have labor'd,
With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavors,

To bring your most imperial majesties

Unto this bar and royal interview.

You are assembled: and my speech entreats

That I may know the let, why gentle Peace

Should not expel these inconveniences,

And bless us with her former qualities.

K. Hen. If, duke of Burgundy, you would have peace,

You must buy that peace

With full accord to all our just demands;

Whose tenors and particular effects

You have, enschedul'd briefly, in your hands.

Bur. The king hath heard them; to the which, as yet,

There is no answer made.

K. Hen.
Well then, the peace,
Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer.
Fr. King. I have but with a cursorary eye
O'er-glanc'd the articles: pleaseth your grace
To appoint some of your council presently
To sit with us once more, with better heed
To re-survey them, we will suddenly
Pass our accept, and peremptory answer.

K. Hen. Brother, we shall.-Go, uncle Exeter,-

And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloster,-
Warwick, and Huntington,-go with the king;
And take with you free power to ratify,
Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best
Shall see advantageable for our dignity,
Any thing in, or out of, our demands;

And we'll consign thereto.-Will you, fair sister,
Go with the princes, or stay here with us?

Q. Isa. Our gracious brother, I will go with them:
Haply a woman's voice may do some good,

When articles, too nicely urg'd, be stood on.

K. Hen. Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us: She is our capital demand, compris'd

Within the fore-rank of our articles.

Q. Isa. She hath good leave.

[Exeunt all except K. HENRY, KATHARINE, and ALICE.
Fair Katharine, and most fair!

K. Hen.
Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms
Such as will enter at a lady's ear,

And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?

Kath. Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England.

K. Hen. O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?

Kath. Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vat is-like me.

K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate; and you are like an angel.
Kath. Que dit-il? que je suis semblable à les anges?
Alice. Ouy, vrayment, sauf vostre grace, ainsi dit-il.

K. Hen. I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it.

Kath. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperie.

K. Hen. What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits?

Alice. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess.

K. Hen. The princess is the better English-woman. I' faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad thou canst speak no better English; for, if thou couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king, that thou wouldst think I had sold 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 farther than to say-Do you in faith? I wear out my suit. Give me your answer; i' faith, do; and so clap hands and a bargain: how say you, lady?

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, me understand well.

K. Hen. Marry, if you would put me to verses, or to dance

for your sake, Kate, why you undid me. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armor on my back, under the correction of bragging be it spoken, I should quickly leap into a wife. But, before heaven, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love of any thing he sees there,-let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: if thou canst love me for this, take me; if not, to say to thee that I shall die, is true, but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favors, they do always reason themselves out again. What! a speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good limb will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon,for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: and what sayest thou, then, to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Kath. Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?

K. Hen. No; it is not possible you should love the enemy of France, Kate: but, in loving me, you should love the friend of France; for I love France so 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. Kath. I cannot tell vat is dat.

K. Hen. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French; which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook off.-Quand j'ay la possession de France, et quand vous avez la possession de moy, (let me see, what then? Saint Dennis be my speed!)-donc vostre est France, et vous estes mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom, as to speak so much more French: I shall never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me.

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, le François que vous parlez, est meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.

K. Hen. No, 'faith, ist not, Kate: but thy speaking of my tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much English,-Canst thou love me?

Kath. I cannot tell.

K. Hen. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon très chère et divine déesse?

Kath. Your majesté have fausse French enough to deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France.

K. Hen. Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honor I dare not swear, thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear: my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better:-and therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, 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 say-Harry of England, I am thine: which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud-England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music,-for thy voice is music, and thy English broken; therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English,-wilt thou have me?

Kath. Dat is, as it shall please de roy mon pere.

K. Hen. Nay, it will please him well, Kate,—it shall please him, Kate.

Kath. Den it shall also content me.

K. Hen. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen. Kath. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez vostre grandeur, en baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure: excusez moy, je vous supplie, mon très puissant seigneur.

K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

Kath. Les dames, et damoiselles, pour estre baisées devant leur noces, il n'est pas la coûtume de France.

K. Hen. Madam my interpreter, what says she?

Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France,-I cannot tell what is, baiser, en English.

K. Hen. To kiss.

Alice. Your majesty entendre bettre que moy.

K. Hen. It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?

Alice. Ouy, vrayment.

K. Hen. O Kate, nice customs court'sy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouths of all find