Henry V

Enter Chorus.

Chorus

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all, The flat unraised spirits that hath dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt? O pardon! since a crooked figure may Attest in little place a million; And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work. Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confined two mighty monarchies, Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; Into a thousand parts divide one man, And make imaginary puissance; Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth; For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there; jumping o’er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hourglass: for the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history; Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. Exit.

King Henry

We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; Unto whose grace our passion is as subject As are our wretches fetter’d in our prisons: Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness Tell us the Dauphin’s mind.

Ambassador

Thus, then, in few. Your highness, lately sending into France, Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. In answer of which claim, the prince our master Says that you savour too much of your youth, And bids you be advised there’s nought in France That can be with a nimble galliard won; You cannot revel into dukedoms there. He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.

King Henry

What treasure, uncle?

Exeter

Tennis-balls, my liege.

King Henry

We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; His present and your pains we thank you for: When we have match’d

Alas, your too much love and care of me Are heavy orisons ’gainst this poor wretch! If little faults, proceeding on distemper, Shall not be wink’d at, how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes, chew’d, swallow’d and digested, Appear before us? We’ll yet enlarge that man, Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care And tender preservation of our person, Would have him punish’d. And now to our French causes: Who are the late commissioners?

Cambridge

I one, my lord: Your highness bade me ask for it today.

Scroop

So did you me, my liege.

Grey

And I, my royal sovereign.

King Henry

Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, We will aboard tonight. Why, how now, gentlemen! What see you in those papers that you lose So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there, That have so cowarded and chased your blood Out of appearance?

France. Before Harfleur.

Alarum. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloucester and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders.

King Henry

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O’erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English, Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even fought And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!” Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off.

Williams

We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think we shall never see the end of it. Who goes there?

King Henry

A friend.

Williams

Under what captain serve you?

King Henry

Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.

Williams

A good old commander and a most kind gentleman: I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?

King Henry

Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be washed off the next tide.

Bates

He hath not told his thought to the king?

King Henry

No; nor it is not meet he should. For, though I speak it to you, I think the king is but a man, as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions: his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing. Therefore when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as ours are: yet, in reason, no man should possess him with any appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his army.