K. Henry. An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an Angel.

Cath. Que dit-il, que je fuis femblable à les Anges? Lady. Ouy, vrayment, (fauf voftre grace) ainfi dit il. K. Henry. I faid fo, dear Catharine, and I must not blush to affirm it.

Cath. O bon Dieu ! les langues des hommes font pleines de tromperies.

K. Hen. What fays fhe, fair one? that tongues are full of deceits?

of men

Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of de ceits dat is de Princes.

K. Henry. The Princess is the better English Woman. I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding ; [ am glad thou canst speak no better English, for if thou could'ft, thou would't find me fuch a plain King, that thou would't think I had fold my farm to buy my Crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to fay, I love you; then if you urge me further than to fay, do you in faith? I wear out my fuit. Give me your anfwer; i'faith, do; and fo clap hands and a bargain; how fay you, lady?

Cath. Sauf voftre honneur, me understand well.

H. Henry. Marry, if you would put me to verfes, or to dance for your fake, Kate, why, you undid me; for the one I have neither words nor measure; and for the other I have no ftrength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in ftrength. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my faddle with my armour on my back; under the correction of bragging be it fpoken, I fhould quickly leap into a wife: Or if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horfe for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher, and fit like a jack-a-napes, never off. But, before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly, nor gafp out my eloquence, nor have I cunning in proteftation; only downright oaths, which I never ufe 'till urg'd, and never break for urging. If thou canft love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whofe face is not worth fun-burn-. ing; that never looks in his glafs for love of any thing he fees there; let thine eye be thy cook. I fpeak plain foldier;

foldier; if thou canst love me for this, take me; if not, to say to thee that I fhall die, 'tis true; but for thy love, by the lord, no: yet I love thee too. And while thou liv't, Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined conftancy, for he perforce muft do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for thefe fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhime themfelves into ladies' favours, they do always reafon themfelves out again. What? a fpeaker is but a prater; a rhime is but a ballad; a good leg will fall, a ftraight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curl'd pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart, Kate, is the fun and the moon; or rather the fun, and not the moon ; for it fhines bright and never changes, but keeps his courfe truly. If thou would't have fuch a one, take me; take a foldier; take a King: and what say'st thou then to my love? fpeak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Cath. Is it poffible dat I fhould love de enemy of France?

K. Henry. No, it is not poffible that you should love the enemy of France, Kate; but in loving me you should love the friend of France; for I love France fo 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.

Cath. I cannot tell vhat is dat.

K. Henry. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, (which, I am fure, will hang upon my tongue like a married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be fhook off) quand j'ay le poffeffion de France, & quand vous aves le poffeffion de moi (let me fee, what then? St. Dennis be my fpeed!) donc voftre eft France, & vous eftes mienne. It is as eafy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom, as to fpeak fo much more French: I fhall never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me. Cath. Sauf voftre honneur, le Francois que vous parlez, eft meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy fpeaking of my tongue and I thine, moft truly falfly, muft needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, doft thou understand thus much English? canst thou love me? Cath. I cannot tell.

K. Henry. Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come, I know thou loveft me; and at night when you come into your closet, you'll queftion this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her difpraife thofe parts in me, that you love with your heart; but, good Kate, mock me mercifully, the rather, gentle Princefs, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou beeft mine, Kate, (as I have faving faith within me, tells me, thou shalt) I get thee with fcambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good foldier-breeder: fhall not thou and I, between St. Dennis and St. George, compound a boy half French, half English, that fhall go to Conftantinople and take the Turk by the beard? fhall we not ? what fay'ft thou, my fair Flower-de-luce?

Cath. I do not know dat.

vour for

K. Henry. No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promife; do but now promife, Kate, you will endea your French part of fuch a boy; and for my English moiety, take the word of a King and a batchelor. How answer you, La plus belle Catharine du monde, mon tres chere & divine deeffe.

Cath. Your Majestee ave fause Frenche enough to deceive de most fage damoifel dat is en France.

K. Henry. Now, fie upon my falfe French; by mine honour, in true English I love thee, Kate; by which honour I dare not (wear thou loveft me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou doft, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my vifage. Now beThrew my father's ambition, he was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore was I created with a flubborn outfide, with an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo ladies I fright them: but in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I fhall appear. My comfort is, that old age (that ill layer up of beauty) can do no more fpoil upon my face. Thou haft me, if thou hafst me,

at

at the worft; and thou fhalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better; and therefore tell me, moft fair Catharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes, avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an Emprefs, take me by the hand and fay, Harry of England, I am thine; which word thou shalt no fooner blefs mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud, England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, tho' I fpeak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best King, thou fhalt find the beft King of good fellows. Come, your anfwer in broken mufick; for thy voice is mufick, and thy English broken therefore Queen of all, Catharine, break thy mind to me in broken English, wilt thou have me? Cath. Dat is, as it fhall please le roy mon pere.

K. Henry. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it fhall pleafe him, Kate.

Cath. Den it fhall alfo content me.

K. Henry. Upon that I kifs your hand, and I call you my Queen.

Cath. Laiffez, mon feigneur, laiffez, laiffez: ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez votre grandeur, en baifant la main d'une voftre indigne ferviteure; excusex moy, je vous fupplie, mon tres puillant Seigneur.

K. Henry. Then I will kifs your lips, Kate. Cath. Les dames & damoifels pour eftre baifées devant leur nopces, il n'eft pas le coutume de France.

K. Henry. Madam my interpreter, what fays fhe ? Lady. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France; I cannot tell, what is baiffer en English. K. Henry. To kifs.

Lady. Your Majefty entendre bettre que moy.

K. Henry. Is it not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?

Lady. Ouy, vrayement.

K. Henry. O Kate, nice customs curt'fie to great Kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confin'd within the weak lift of a country's fashion; we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty, that follows our places, stops the mouth of all find faults, as I will do

yours,

yours, for the upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kifs: therefore, patiently and yielding. [Kiffing her] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in a touch of them, than in the tongues of the French Council; and they should fooner perfuade Harry of England, than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.

Enter the French King and Queen, with French and English Lords.

Burg. God fave your Majefty! my royal coufin, teach you our Princess English?

K. Henry. I would have her learn, my fair coufin, how perfectly I love her, and that is good English. Burg. Is the apt?

K. Henry. Our tongue is rough, and my condition is not smooth; fo that having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot fo conjure up the fpirit of love in her, that he will appear in his true likeness.

Burg. Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I anfwer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle: if conjure up love in her in his true likekness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her then, being a maid yet ros'd over with the virgin crimson of modefty, if the deny the appearance of a naked blind boy, in her naked feeing felf? it were my lord, a hard condition for a maid to confign to.

K. Henry. Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.

Burg. They are then excus'd, my lord, when they fee not what they do.

K. Henry. Then, good my lord, teach your coufin to confent to winking.

Burg. I will wink on her to confent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning. Maids, well fummer'd and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomewtide, blind, though they have their eyes and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.

K. Henry.