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Defective in their natures,' grow to wildness;
Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children,
Have lost, or do not learn, for want of time,
The sciences that should become our country;
But grow, like savages,-as soldiers will,
That nothing do but meditate on blood,-
To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire,
And every thing that seems unnatural.
Which to reduce into our former favor,3
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 the peace, Whose want gives growth to the imperfections Which you have cited, you must buy that peace With full accord to all our just demands;

Whose tenors and particular effects

You have, enscheduled briefly, in your hands.
Bur. The king hath heard them; to the which, as


There is no answer made.

K. Hen.
Well, then, the peace,
Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.
Fr. King. I have but with a cursorary eye
O'erglanced the articles: pleaseth your grace
To appoint some of your council presently
To sit with us once more, with better heed
To resurvey them, we will, suddenly,
Pass our accept, and peremptory answer.1

K. Hen. Brother, we shall.-Go, uncle Exeter,-
And brother Clarence,—and you, brother Gloster,

1 "They were not defective in their crescive nature, for they grew to wildness; but they were defective in their proper and favorable nature, which was to bring forth food for man."

2 "Diffused attire." We learn from Florio's Dictionary, that diffused, or defused, were used for confused. Diffused attire is therefore disordered or dishevelled attire.

3 Favor here means comeliness of appearance.

4 "Pass our accept, and peremptory answer." To pass here signifies "to finish, end, or agree upon the acceptance which we shall give them, and return our peremptory answer."

Warwick-and Huntingdon,'-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 urged, be stood on.

K. Hen. Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with


She is our capital demand, comprised

Within the fore-rank of our articles.

Q. Isa. She hath good leave.

K. Hen.


[Exeunt all but HENRY, KATHARINE, and her Gentlewoman.

Fair Katharine, and most fair!

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

And plead his lovesuit 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 tromperies.

1 "Huntingdon." John Holland, earl of Huntingdon, who afterwards married the widow of Edmund Mortimer, earl of March. Neither Huntingdon nor Clarence are in the list of Dramatis Personæ, as neither of them speak a word.

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 Englishwoman. 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 further 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; for the one, I have neither words nor measure; and for the other, I have no strength in measure,1 yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a lady at leapfrog, 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. Or, if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her favors, I could lay on like a butcher, and sit like a jack-an-apes, never off; but, before God, 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

1 i. e. in dancing. 2 i. e. like a young lover, awkwardly. 3 The prince evidently means to say, "Take a fellow of blunt, unadorned courage or purpose, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places like




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 leg 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 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 pray thee.


Kath. Is it possible dat I should 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 le possession de moi (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, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking

these fellows of infinite tongue." Constancy is most frequently used for courage, or resolution, by Shakspeare.

1 i. e. shrink, fall away.

of my tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to me much at one. thou understand thus much English? me?

Kath. I cannot tell.

But, Kate, dost Canst thou love

K. Hen. Can any of your neighbors tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me; and at night when you come into your closet, you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will, to her, dispraise those parts in me, that you love with your heart; but, good Kate, mock me mercifully the rather, gentle princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou be'st mine, Kate, (as I have a saving faith within me, tells me,-thou shalt,) I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldierbreeder. Shall not thou and I, between saint Dennis and saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the beard?1 Shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair flower-de-luce?

Kath. I do not know dat.

K. Hen. No; 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise; do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavor for your French part of such a boy; and, for my English moiety, take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon très chere et divine déesse?

Kath. Your majesté 'ave fausse French enough to deceive the most sage damoiselle 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.2 Now beshrew my father's ambition! he was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore was I created with a

1 The Turks had not possession of Constantinople until the year 1453; when Henry had been dead thirty-one years.

2 "The poor and untempering effect of my visage." Untempering is unsoftening, unmitigating.

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