READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, scenes iii–iv |
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Act II, Scene iv:
France. The King's palace.
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. |
| [Enter a Messenger.] |
| 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. |
| [Enter EXETER.] |
| 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. |
| [Flourish.] |
| 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. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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