Pift. Let us condole the Knight; for, lambkins! we

will live.

[Exeunt.

† ACT II. SCENE I

N

SOUTH-HAMPTON.

Enter CHORUS.

OW all the youth of England are on fire,

And filken dalliance in the wardrobe

lies.:

Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought

Reigns folely in the breast of every man.
They fell the pasture now to buy the horse,
Following the mirror of all chriftian Kings,
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now fits expectation in the air,
And hides a fword from hilts unto the point
With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets,
Promis'd to Harry and his followers.
The French, advis'd by good intelligence
Of this moft dreadful preparation,
Shake in their fear, and with pale policy,..
Seek to divert the English purpofes.

བ ་,་

O England! model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart;

R 5

What

I have divided the Acts of this Play differently from all the editions, by beginning bere the fecond Act, whereby each throughout the Play begins with a Chorus, regularly robereas before, this Chorus was stuck into a place where it interrupted the continuance of the Scene, and for want of this divifion they were forc'd to split the one day's battle at Agincourt into two acts, namely the third and fourth. See the note on act 4. Scene 13.

What might'ft thou do, that honour would thee do,
Were all thy children kind and natural !

But fee thy fault France hath in thee found out,
A neft of hollow bofoms, which he fills

With treach'rous crowns, and three corrupted men.
One, Richard Earl of Cambridge; and the fecond
Henry lord Scroop of Mafham; and the third

Sir Thomas Grey Knight of Northumberland,
Have for the gilt of France (O guilt indeed!)
Confirm'd confpiracy with fearful France,
And by their hands this grace of Kings must die,
If hell and treason hold their promifes,

E'er he take fhip for France. Then in Southampton
Linger your patience on, and a well digest
Th abufe of distance, while we force a play.
The fum is paid, the traitors are agreed,
The King is fet from London, and the scene
Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton:
There is the play-houfe now, there muft you fit,
And thence to France fhall we convey you safe,
And bring you back: charming the narrow feas
To give you gentle pafs; for if we may,
We'll not offend one ftomach with our play.
But till the King come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we fhift our fcene.

SCENE II.

Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmorland.

[Exit.

Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold to trust these trai

tors.

Exe. They fhall be apprehended by and by.

Weft. How smooth and even they do bear them

felves,

As if allegiance in their bofoms fate,

Crowned with faith and conftant loyalty.

Bed, The King hath note of all that they intend, By interception which they dream not of."

3 we'll digeft Th' abufe of distance: force a play.

1

Exe.

Exe. Nay but the man that was his bed-fellow, Whom he hath lull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours! That he should for a foreign purse so fell

His Soveraign's life to death and treachery.

[Trumpets foundi

Enter the King, Scroop, Cambridge, and Grey.

K. Henry. Now fits the wind fair, and we will að board.

My lord of Cambridge, and my lord of Masham,
And you my gentle Knight, give me your thoughts?
Think you not that the pow'rs we bear with us

Will cut their paffage through the force of France?
Doing the execution and the act

For which we have in head affembled them.

Scroop. No doubt, my Liege; if each man do his beft.

K. Henry, I doubt not that, fince we are well per- fuaded

We carry not a heart with us from hence,

That grows not in a fair confent with ours:

And leave not one behind, that doth not wish
Succefs and conqueft to attend on us.

Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd and lovid
Than is your Majefty; there's not a fubject
That fits in heart-grief and uneafiness.
Under the sweet fhade of your government.

Grey. True; thofe that were your father's enemies
Have fteept their gauls in honey, and obferve you
With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

3

K. Henry, We therefore have great caufe of thank-fulness,

And fhall forget the office of our hand;

Sooner than quittance of defert and merit,,
According to the weight and worthiness..

Scroop. So fervice fhall with fteeled finews toil,
And labour fhall refresh it felf with hope,.
To do your grace inceffant fervices.

K. Henry,

K. Henry. We judge no lefs. Uncle of Exeter,
Inlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our perfon: we confider
It was excess of wine that fet him on,
And on his more advice we pardon him.

Scroop. That's mercy, but too much fecurity:
Let him be punish'd, Soveraign, left example
Breed by his fuffrance more of fuch a kind.
K. Henry, let us yet be merciful.

Cam. So may your highness, and yet punish too. Grey. You fhew great mercy, if you give him life, After the tafte of much correction.

K. Henry. Alas, your too much love and care of me Are heavy orifons 'gainst this poor wretch.

If little faults proceeding on diftemper

Shall not be wink'd at, how fhall we ftretch our eye When capital crimes, chew'd, fwallow'd and digefted, Appear before us? we'll enlarge that man,

Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey in their dear care And tender prefervation of our person,

Would have him punifh'd. Now to our French causes, Who are the late commiffioners ?

Cam. I one, my lord,

Your highness bad me ask for it to-day.

Scroop. So did you me, my Liege.

Grey. And I, my Soveraign.

K. Henry. Then Richard Earl of Cambridge there is yours:

There yours, lord Scroop of Mafham; and Sir Knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this fame is yours;
Read them, and know I know your worthiness.
My lord of Westmorland and uncle Exeter,

We will aboard to night. Why, how now gentlemen?
What fee you in thofe papers that you lofe

So much complexion look ye how they change! Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there› That hath fo cowarded and chas'd your blood

Out of appearance?

Camb. I confefs my fault,

And do submit me to your Highness mercy.

Grey,

Grey. Scroop. To which we all appeal,

K. Henry. The mercy that was quick in us but late, By your own counfel is fupprefs'd and kill'd: You must not dare for shame to talk of mercy, For your own reasons turn upon your bofoms, As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. See you my Princes and my noble Peers, Thefe English monfters! my lord Cambridge here,. You know how apt our love was to accord To furnish him with all appertinents Belonging to his honour; and this man Hath for a few light crowns lightly confpir'd, And fworn unto the practices of France To kill us here in Hampton. To the which, This Knight no lefs for bounty bound to us Than Cambridge is, hath likewife fworn. But O! What fhall I fay to thee lord Scroop, thou cruel, Ingrateful, favage, and inhuman creature! Thou that didft bear the key of all my counfels, That knew❜ft the very bottom of my foul, That almoft might'ft have coin'd me into gold, Would't thou have practis'd on me for thy use? May it be poffible, that foreign hire Could out of thee extract one spark of evil That might annoy my finger? 'tis fo ftrange, That though the truth of it ftand off as grofs As black and white, my eye will scarcely fee it. Treafon and murder ever kept together, As two yoak-devils fworn to either's purpose; Working fo grofly in a natural cause, That admiration did not hoop at them. But thou 'gainft all proportion didft bring in Wonder to wait on treason, and on murther : And whatfoever cunning fiend it was That wrought upon thee fo prepoft'roufly, Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: And other devils that fuggeft by-treasons

Do

What follows to the end of this speech is additional

fince the first edition.