Act II, Scene iv: France. The King's palace. | [Flourish. Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes of Berriand Bretagne [the Constable, and others.] |
| FRENCH KING: | | Thus comes the English with full power upon us, | | And more than carefully it us concerns | | To answer royally in our defences. | | Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, | | Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, | | And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, | | To line and new repair our towns of war | | With men of courage and with means defendant; | | For England his approaches makes as fierce | | As waters to the sucking of a gulf. | | It fits us then to be as provident | | As fears may teach us out of late examples | | Left by the fatal and neglected English | | Upon our fields. |
| DAUPHIN: | | My most redoubted father, | | It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; | | For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, | | Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, | | But that defences, musters, preparations, | | Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected, | | As were a war in expectation. | | Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth | | To view the sick and feeble parts of France. | | 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. |
| CONSTABLE: | | O peace, Prince Dauphin! | | You are too much mistaken in this king. | | Question your Grace the late ambassadors | | With what great state he heard their embassy, | | How well supplied with noble counsellors, | | How modest in exception, and withal | | How terrible in constant resolution, | | And you shall find his vanities forespent | | Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, | | Covering discretion with a coat of folly; | | As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots | | That shall first spring and be most delicate. |
| DAUPHIN: | | 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; | | Which, of a weak and niggardly projection, | | Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting | | A little cloth. |
| FRENCH 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 | | That haunted us 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, | | Saw his heroical seed, and smil'd to see him, | | Mangle the work of nature and deface | | The patterns that by God 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. |
| MESSENGER: | | Ambassadors from Harry King of England | | Do crave admittance to your Majesty. |
| FRENCH KING: | | We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. |
| [Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords.] |
| You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. |
| DAUPHIN: | | Turn head and stop pursuit; for coward dogs | | Most spend their mouths 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: | | From our brother of England? |
| EXETER: | | From him; and thus he greets your Majesty: | | He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, | | That you divest yourself, and lay apart | | The borrowed glories that by gift of heaven, | | By law of nature and of nations, longs | | 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, | | 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. |
| FRENCH KING: | | Or else what follows? |
| EXETER: | | 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; | | And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, | | Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy | | On the poor souls for whom this hungry war | | Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head | | Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, | | The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans, | | For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers, | | That shall be swallowed in this controversy. | | This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message; | | Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, | | To whom expressly I bring greeting too. |
| FRENCH KING: | | For us, we will consider of this further. | | To-morrow shall you bear our full intent | | Back to our brother of England. |
| DAUPHIN: | | For the Dauphin, | | I stand here for him. What to him from England? |
| EXETER: | | Scorn and defiance. Slight regard, contempt, | | And anything 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 of it | | That caves and womby vaultages of France | | Shall chide your trespass and return your mock | | In second accent of his ordinance. |
| DAUPHIN: | | Say, if my father render fair return, | | 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 the Paris balls. |
| EXETER: | | He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, | | Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe; | | And, be assur'd, you'll find a difference, | | As we his subjects have in wonder found, | | Between the promise of his greener days | | And these he masters now. Now he weighs time | | Even to the utmost grain. That you shall read | | In your own losses, if he stay in France. |
| FRENCH KING: | | To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. |
| EXETER: | | Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king | | Come here himself to question our delay; | | For he is footed in this land already. |
| FRENCH KING: | | You shall be soon dispatch'd with fair conditions. | | A night is but small breath and little pause | | To answer matters of this consequence. |
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