We never valu'd this poor feat of England;
And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
To barbarous licence; As 'tis ever common,
That men are merriest when they are from home.
But tell the Dauphin,-I will keep my state;
Be like a king, and fhow my fail of greatness,
When I do roufe me in my throne of France:
'For that I have laid by my majesty,
And plodded like a man for working-days;
But I will rise there with fo full a glory,
That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
Yea, ftrike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
And tell the pleasant prince,—this mock of his
Hath turn'd his balls to gun-ftones; and his soul
Shall ftand fore charged for the wasteful vengeance
That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands;
Mock mothers from their fons, mock castles down;
And fome are yet ungotten, and unborn,
That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn.
But this lies all within the will of God,
To whom I do appeal; And in whose name,
Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
To venge me as I may, and to put forth
My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
So, get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin,
His jeft will favour but of shallow wit,
When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.—
Convey them with fafe conduct.-Fare you well.
Exe. This was a merry meffage.
K. Hen. We hope to make the fender blush at it.
[Defcends from his throne.
Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour,
That may give furtherance to our expedition :
For we have now no thought in us, but France;
Save thofe to God, that run before our business.
Therefore, let our proportions for thefe wars
Be foon collected; and all things thought upon,
That may, with reasonable swiftnefs, add
More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
Therefore, let every man now task his thought,
That this fair action may on foot be brought. [Exeunt,
Chor. Now 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 pafture now to buy the horse;
Following the mirror of all Christian kings,
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now fits Expectation in the air;
And hides a fword, from hilt 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 most dreadful preparation,
Shake in their fear; and with pale policy
Seek to divert the English purposes.
O England!-model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart,—
What might'st 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 treacherous crowns: and three corrupted men,→
One, Richard earl of Cambridge; and the second,
Henry lord Scroop of Masham; and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey knight of Northumberland,-
Have, for the gilt of France, (Ɔ guilt, indeed!)
Confirm'd confpiracy with fearful France;
And by their hands this grace of kings must die,
(If hell and treafon hold their promises,)
Ere he take ship før France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on; and well digest
The abuse of distance, while we force a play.
The fum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
The king is set from London; and the scene
Is now tranfported, gentles, to Southampton:
There is the playhouse now, there must 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 shift our scene.
Bard. Well met, corporal Nym.
Nym. Good morrow, lieutenant Bardolph.
Bard. What, are ancient Pistol and you friends yet? Nym. For my part, I care not: I fay little; but when time fhall ferve, there fhall be fmiles ;-but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and hold out mine iron it is a fimple one; but what though? it will toaft cheese; and it will endure cold as another man's fword will: and there's the humour of it.
Bard. I will bestow a breakfast, to make you friends; and we'll be all three fworn brothers to France: let it be fo, good corporal Nym.
Published Sep.1. 1800. by Vernor & Hood Poultry.
|