The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: h6r - Histories, p. 79

Left Column


The Life of Henry the Fift.
[1225]
Therefore to our best mercy giue your selues, Or like to men prowd of destruction, Defie vs to our worst: for as I am a Souldier, A Name that in my thoughts becomes me best; If I begin the batt'rie once againe,
[1230]
I will not leaue the halfe-atchieued Harflew, Till in her ashes she lye buryed. The Gates of Mercy shall be all shut vp, And the flesh'd Souldier, rough and hard of heart, In libertie of bloody hand, shall raunge
[1235]
With Conscience wide as Hell, mowing like Grasse Your fresh faire Virgins, and your flowring Infants. What is it then to me, if impious Warre, Arrayed in flames like to the Prince of Fiends, Doe with his smyrcht complexion all fell feats,
[1240]
Enlynckt to wast and desolation? What is't to me, when you your selues are cause, If your pure Maydens fall into the hand Of hot and forcing Violation? What Reyne can hold licentious Wickednesse,
[1245]
When downe the Hill he holds his fierce Carriere? We may as bootlesse spend our vaine Command Vpon th'enraged Souldiers in their spoyle, As send Precepts to the Leuiathan, to come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harflew,
[1250]
Take pitty of your Towne and of your People, Whiles yet my Souldiers are in my Command, Whiles yet the coole and temperate Wind of Grace O're-blowes the filthy and contagious Clouds Of headly Murther, Spoyle, and Villany.
[1255]
If not: why in a moment looke to see The blind and bloody Souldier, with foule hand Desire the Locks of your shrill-shriking Daughters: Your Fathers taken by the siluer Beards, And their most reuerend Heads dasht to the Walls:
[1260]
Your naked Infants spitted vpon Pykes, Whiles the mad Mothers, with their howles confus'd, Doe breake the Clouds; as did the Wiues of Iewry, At Herods bloody-hunting slaughter-men. What say you? Will you yeeld, and this auoyd?
[1265]
Or guiltie in defence, be thus destroy'd.
Enter Gouernour. Gouer. Our expectation hath this day an end: The Dolphin, whom of Succours we entreated, Returnes vs, that his Powers are yet not ready, To rayse so great a Siege: Therefore great King,
[1270]
We yeeld our Towne and Liues to thy soft Mercy: Enter our Gates, dispose of vs and ours, For we no longer are defensible.
King. Open your Gates: Come Vnckle Exeter, Goe you and enter Harflew; there remaine,
[1275]
And fortifie it strongly 'gainst the French: Vse mercy to them all for vs, deare Vnckle. The Winter comming on, and Sicknesse growing Vpon our Souldiers, we will retyre to Calis. To night in Harflew will we be your Guest,
[1280]
To morrow for the March are we addrest.
Flourish, and enter the Towne.
[Act 3, Scene 4] Enter Katherine and an old Gentlewoman. Kathe.

Alice, tu as este en Angleterre, & tu bien parlas

le Language.

Alice.

En peu Madame.

Kath.

Ie te prie m'ensigniez, il faut que ie apprend a par-

[1285]

len: Comient appelle vous le main en Anglois?

Alice.

Le main il & appelle de Hand.

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[full image]

Right Column


This speech is conventionally attributed to Alice. Kath.

De Hand.

Alice. This speech is conventionally attributed to Katherine.

E le doyts.

This speech is conventionally attributed to Alice. Kat.

Le doyts, ma foy Ie oublie, e doyt mays, ie me souemeray

[1290]

le doyts ie pense qu'ils ont appelle de fingres, ou de fingres.

This speech is conventionally attributed to Katherine. Alice.

Le main de Hand, le doyts le Fingres, ie pense que ie

suis le bon escholier.

Kath.

I'ay gaynie diux mots d'Anglois vistement, coment

appelle vous le ongles?

Alice.
[1295]

Le ongles, les appellons de Nayles.

Kath.

De Nayles escoute: dites moy, si ie parle bien: de

Hand, de Fingres, e de Nayles.

Alice.

C'est bien dict Madame, il & fort bon Anglois.

Kath.

Dites moy l'Anglois pour le bras.

Alice.
[1300]

De Arme, Madame.

Kath.

E de coudee.

Alice.

D'Elbow.

Kath.

D'Elbow: Ie men fay le repiticio de touts les mots

que vous maves, apprins des a present.

Alice.
[1305]

Il & trop difficile Madame, comme Ie pense.

Kath.

Excuse moy Alice escoute, d'Hand, de Fingre, de

Nayles, d'Arma, de Bilbow.

Alice.

D'Elbow, Madame.

Kath.

O Seigneur Dieu, ie men oublie d'Elbow, coment ap-

[1310]

pelle vous le col.

Alice.

De Nick, Madame.

Kath.

De Nick, e le menton.

Alice.

De Chin.

Kath.

De Sin: le col de Nick, le menton de Sin.

Alice.
[1315]

Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur en verite vous pronoun-

cies les mots ausi droict, que le Natifs d'Angleterre.

Kath.

Ie ne doute point d'apprendre par de grace de Dieu,

& en peu de temps.

Alice.

N'aue vos y desia oublie ce que ie vous a enfignie ensignie .

Kath.
[1320]

Nome ie recitera a vous promptement, d'Hand, de

Fingre, de Maylees.

Alice.

De Nayles, Madame.

Kath.

De Nayles, de Arme, de Ilbow.

Alice.

Sans vostre honeus d'Elbow.

Kath.
[1325]

Ainsi de ie d'Elbow, de Nick, & de Sin: coment ap-

pelle vous les pied & de roba.

Alice.

Le Foot Madame, & le Count.

Kath.

Le Foot, & le Count: O Seignieur Dieu, il sont le

mots de son mauvais corruptible grosse & impudique, & non

[1330]

pour le Dames de Honeur d'vser: Ie ne voudray pronouncer ce

mots deuant le Seigneurs de France, pour toute le monde, fo le

Foot & le Count, neant moys, Ie recitera vn autrefoys ma lecon

ensembe, d'Hand, de Fingre, de Nayles, d'Arme, d'Elbow, de

Nick, de Sin, de Foot, le Count.

Alice.
[1335]

Excellent, Madame.

Kath.

C'est asses pour vne foyes, alons nous a diner.

Exit.
[Act 3, Scene 5] Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the Constable of France, and others. King. 'Tis certaine he hath past the Riuer Some. Const. And if he be not fought withall, my Lord, Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,
[1340]
And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People.
Dolph. O Dieu viuant: Shall a few Sprayes of vs, The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie, Our Syens, put in wilde and sauage Stock, Spirt vp so suddenly into the Clouds,
[1345]
And ouer-looke their Grafters?
Brit. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards: Mort du ma vie, if they march along Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome, To

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[Act 3, Scene 5] Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the Constable of France, and others. King. 'Tis certaine he hath past the Riuer Some. Const. And if he be not fought withall, my Lord, Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,
[1340]
And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People.
Dolph. O Dieu viuant: Shall a few Sprayes of vs, The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie, Our Syens, put in wilde and sauage Stock, Spirt vp so suddenly into the Clouds,
[1345]
And ouer-looke their Grafters?
Brit. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards: Mort du ma vie, if they march along Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome, To buy a slobbry and a durtie Farme
[1350]
In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion.
Const. Dieu de Battailes, where haue they this mettell? Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull? On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale, Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,
[1355]
A Drench for sur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth, Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine, Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land, Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles
[1360]
Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields: Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords.
Dolphin. By Faith and Honor, Our Madames mock at vs, and plainely say,
[1365]
Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue Their bodyes to the Lust of English Youth, To new-store France with Bastard Warriors.
Brit. They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles, And teach Lauolta's high, and swift Carranto's,
[1370]
Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles, And that we are most loftie Run-awayes.
King. Where is Montioy the Herald? speed him hence, Let him greet England with our sharpe defiance. Vp Princes, and with spirit of Honor edged,
[1375]
More sharper then your Swords, high to the field: Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France, You Dukes of Orleance, Burbon, and of Berry, Alanson, Brabant, Bar, and Burgonie, Iaques Chattillion, Rambures, Vandemont,
[1380]
Beumont, Grand Pree, Roussi, and Faulconbridge, Loys, Lestrale, Bouciquall, and Charaloyes, High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings; For your great Seats, now quit you of great shames: Barre Harry England, that sweepes through our Land
[1385]
With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew: Rush on his Hoast, as doth the melted Snow Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vassall Seat, The Alpes doth spit, and void his rhewme vpon. Goe downe vpon him, you haue Power enough,
[1390]
And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan Bring him our Prisoner.
Const. This becomes the Great. Sorry am I his numbers are so few, His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:
[1395]
For I am sure, when he shall see our Army, Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare, And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.
King. Therefore Lord Constable, hast on Montioy, And let him say to England, that we send,
[1400]
To know what willing Ransome he will giue. Prince Dolphin, you shall stay with vs in Roan.
Dolph. Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie. King. Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs. Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,
[1405]
And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.
Exeunt.
 

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<div type="scene" n="5" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 5]</head>
   <stage rend="italic centre" type="entrance">Enter the King of France, the Dolphin, the
      <lb/>Constable of France, and others.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-h5-fra">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1337">'Tis certaine he hath past the Riuer Some.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-con">
      <speaker rend="italic">Const.</speaker>
      <l n="1338">And if he be not fought withall, my Lord,</l>
      <l n="1339">Let vs not liue in France: let vs quit all,</l>
      <l n="1340">And giue our Vineyards to a barbarous People.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-lew">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dolph.</speaker>
      <l n="1341">
         <hi rend="italic">O Dieu viuant</hi>: Shall a few Sprayes of vs,</l>
      <l n="1342">The emptying of our Fathers Luxurie,</l>
      <l n="1343">Our Syens, put in wilde and sauage Stock,</l>
      <l n="1344">Spirt vp so suddenly into the Clouds,</l>
      <l n="1345">And ouer-looke their Grafters?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-bri">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brit.</speaker>
      <l n="1346">Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards:</l>
      <l n="1347">
         <hi rend="italic">Mort du ma vie</hi>, if they march along</l>
      <l n="1348">Vnfought withall, but I will sell my Dukedome,</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0436-0.jpg" n="80"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1349">To buy a slobbry and a durtie Farme</l>
      <l n="1350">In that nooke-shotten Ile of Albion.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-con">
      <speaker rend="italic">Const.</speaker>
      <l n="1351">
         <hi rend="italic">Dieu de Battailes</hi>, where haue they this mettell?</l>
      <l n="1352">Is not their Clymate foggy, raw, and dull?</l>
      <l n="1353">On whom, as in despight, the Sunne lookes pale,</l>
      <l n="1354">Killing their Fruit with frownes. Can sodden Water,</l>
      <l n="1355">A Drench for sur-reyn'd Iades, their Barly broth,</l>
      <l n="1356">Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?</l>
      <l n="1357">And shall our quick blood, spirited with Wine,</l>
      <l n="1358">Seeme frostie? O, for honor of our Land,</l>
      <l n="1359">Let vs not hang like roping Isyckles</l>
      <l n="1360">Vpon our Houses Thatch, whiles a more frostie People</l>
      <l n="1361">Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich fields:</l>
      <l n="1362">Poore we call them, in their Natiue Lords.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-lew">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dolphin.</speaker>
      <l n="1363">By Faith and Honor,</l>
      <l n="1364">Our Madames mock at vs, and plainely say,</l>
      <l n="1365">Our Mettell is bred out, and they will giue</l>
      <l n="1366">Their bodyes to the Lust of English Youth,</l>
      <l n="1367">To new-store France with Bastard Warriors.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-bri">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brit.</speaker>
      <l n="1368">They bid vs to the English Dancing-Schooles,</l>
      <l n="1369">And teach<hi rend="italic">Lauolta's</hi>high, and swift<hi rend="italic">Carranto's</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1370">Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heeles,</l>
      <l n="1371">And that we are most loftie Run-awayes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-fra">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1372">Where is<hi rend="italic">Montioy</hi>the Herald? speed him hence,</l>
      <l n="1373">Let him greet England with our sharpe defiance.</l>
      <l n="1374">Vp Princes, and with spirit of Honor edged,</l>
      <l n="1375">More sharper then your Swords, high to the field:</l>
      <l n="1376">
         <hi rend="italic">Charles Delabreth</hi>, High Constable of France,</l>
      <l n="1377">You Dukes of<hi rend="italic">Orleance</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Burbon</hi>, and of<hi rend="italic">Berry</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1378">
         <hi rend="italic">Alanson</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Brabant</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Bar</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Burgonie</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1379">
         <hi rend="italic">Iaques Chattillion</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Rambures</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Vandemont</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1380">
         <hi rend="italic">Beumont</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Grand Pree</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Roussi</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Faulconbridge</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1381">
         <hi rend="italic">Loys</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Lestrale</hi>,<hi rend="italic">Bouciquall</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Charaloyes</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1382">High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings;</l>
      <l n="1383">For your great Seats, now quit you of great shames:</l>
      <l n="1384">Barre<hi rend="italic">Harry</hi>England, that sweepes through our Land</l>
      <l n="1385">With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew:</l>
      <l n="1386">Rush on his Hoast, as doth the melted Snow</l>
      <l n="1387">Vpon the Valleyes, whose low Vassall Seat,</l>
      <l n="1388">The Alpes doth spit, and void his rhewme vpon.</l>
      <l n="1389">Goe downe vpon him, you haue Power enough,</l>
      <l n="1390">And in a Captiue Chariot, into Roan</l>
      <l n="1391">Bring him our Prisoner.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-con">
      <speaker rend="italic">Const.</speaker>
      <l n="1392">This becomes the Great.</l>
      <l n="1393">Sorry am I his numbers are so few,</l>
      <l n="1394">His Souldiers sick, and famisht in their March:</l>
      <l n="1395">For I am sure, when he shall see our Army,</l>
      <l n="1396">Hee'le drop his heart into the sinck of feare,</l>
      <l n="1397">And for atchieuement, offer vs his Ransome.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-fra">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1398">Therefore Lord Constable, hast on<hi rend="italic">Montioy</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1399">And let him say to England, that we send,</l>
      <l n="1400">To know what willing Ransome he will giue.</l>
      <l n="1401">Prince<hi rend="italic">Dolphin</hi>, you shall stay with vs in Roan.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-lew">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dolph.</speaker>
      <l n="1402">Not so, I doe beseech your Maiestie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-h5-fra">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="1403">Be patient, for you shall remaine with vs.</l>
      <l n="1404">Now forth Lord Constable, and Princes all,</l>
      <l n="1405">And quickly bring vs word of Englands fall.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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