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Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,
Saw his heroick seed, and smild to see him
Mangle the work of nature: and deface
The patterns, that by God and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made. This is a ftem
Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him.

Enter a Messenger.
Mej. Ambaffadors from Harry, King of England,
Do crave admittance to your Majesty.
Fr. King. We'll give them present audience. Go, and

bring them. You see, this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau. Turn head, and stop pursuit ; for coward dogs
Most spend their mouths, when, what they seem to
Runs far before them. Good my Sovereign, [threaten,
Take up the English short ; and let them know
Of what a monarchy you are the head :
Self-love, my Liege, is not so vile a fin,
As felf-neglecting

Enter Exeter.
Fr. King. From our brother England ?

Exe. From him ; and thus he greets your Majesty :
He wills you in the name of God Almighty,

divest your self, and lay apart
The borrow'd glories, that, by gift of heaven,
By law of nature and of nations, 'long
To him and to his heirs ; namely, the Crown ;
And all the wide-stretch'd honours, that pertain
By custom and the ordinance of times,
Unto the Crown of France. That you may know,
*Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,
Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd;
He sends you this most memorable Line,
In every branch truly demonstrative,

[Gives the French King a Paper. Willing you over-look this pedigree;

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And when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his most fam'd of famous ancestors,
Edward the Third ; he bids you then resign
Your Crown and Kingdom, indirectly held
From him the native and true challenger.

Fr. King. Or else what follows ?

Exe. Bloody constraint ; for if you hide the Crown
Ev’n in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
And therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder, and in earthquake, like a Jove :".
That, if requiring fail, he may compel.
He bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the Crown; and to take mercy
On the poor souls, for whom this hungry war
Opens his vafty jaws ; upon your head
Turning the widows tears, the orphans cries,
The dead mens blood; the pining maidens groans, (20)
For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers,
That shall be swallow'd in this controversie.
This is his claim, his threatning, and my message ;
Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
To whom exprelly I bring Greeting too.

Fr. King. For us, we will consider of this further :
To morrow shall you bear our full intent
Back to our brother England.

Dau. For the Dauphin,
I stand here for him ; what to him from England ?

Exe. Scorn and defiance, Night regard, contempt,
And any thing that may not mil-become
The mighty fender, doch he prize you at.

(20) The pining Maidens Groans,] This is the Epithet Mr. Pope has espoused from the old 4to's. Mr. Rowe read with the first folio's

The privy Maidens groans,
Which, according to poetical Usage, might fignify, the Groans of
Maidens vented in private. From this Word, which he efteens a Cor-
ruption, Mr. Warburton ingeniously would substitute ;

The prived Maidens groans,
i.e. the deprived: the Verse, which immediately follows, necessarily re-
quiring such a Sense. As all the Epithets make Sense, I have contented
my self with giving the various Readings, together with my Friend's

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your mock

Thus says my King; and if your

father's Highness
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty;
He'll call you to so hot an answer for it,
That caves and womby vaultages of France
Shall hide your trespass, and return
In second accent to his ordinance.

Dau. Say, if my father render fair reply,
It is against my will; for I desire
Nothing but odds with England ; to that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity,
I did present him with those Paris balls.

Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe :
And, be assur'd, you'll find a difference,
(As we his subjects have in wonder found)
Between the promise of his greener days,
And these he masters now ; now he weighs time
Even to the utmost grain, which you shall read
In your own loffes, if he stay in France.
Fr. King. To morrow you shall know our mind at full,

(Flourish. Exe. Dispatch us with all speed, left that our King Come here himself to question our delay; For he is footed in this land already.

[ditions :
Fr. King. You shall be foon dispatch'd. with fair con-
A night is but small breath, and little pause,
To answer matters of this consequence, [Exeunt,

Enter Chorus.
Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose, that you have seen
The well-appointed King at Hampton Peer (21)


(21) The well-appointed King at Dover peer Embark his Royalty.) Thus all the Editions downwards, implicitly after the first Folio. But could the Poet possibly be so discordant from himself, (and the Chronicles, which he copied ;) to make the King here embark at Dover; when he has before told us fo precisely, and that fa



Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With filken streamers the young Phæbus fanning.
Play with your fancies; and in them behold,
Upon the hempen' tackle, ship-boys climbing ;
Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give
To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails,
Born with th' invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms thro' the furrow'd sea,
Breasțing the lofty surge. O, do but think,
You stand upon the rivage, and behold
A city on th' inconstant billows dancing;
For só appears this Fleet majeftical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow.
Grapple your minds to fternage of this navy,
And leave your England, as dead midnight still,
Guarded with grandfires, babies and old women;
Or past, or not arriv’d, to pith and puissance :
For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing hair, that will not follow
These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege ;
Behold the ordnance on their carriages
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose, th' ambassador from France comes back;
Tells Harry, that the King doth offer him
Catharine his daughter, and with her to dowry
Some petty and unprofitable Dukedoms :
The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner
With lynstock now the devilish cannon touches,
And down goes all before him. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance wịth your mind, [Exit,

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pften over, that he embark'd at Southampton? I dare acquit the Poet from fe flagrant a Variation. The Indolence of a Transcriber, or a Workman at Press, muft give Rise to such an Error. They, seeing Pear at the End of the Verse, unluckily thought of Dover-peer, as the þest known to them : and so unawares corrupted the Text,


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SCENE, before Harfleur.

[ Alarm, and Cannon go off Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, and Gloucester;

Soldiers, with scaling ladders.

Nce more unto the breach, dear friends,

once more ;
Or close the wall up with the English dead.
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man :

As modeft ftillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the Tyger ;
Stiffen the finews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage ;
Then lend the eye a terrible afpect ;
Let it pry thro' the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon: let the brow o’erwhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock
O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wastful ocean.
Now set the teeth, and stretch the noftril wide ;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height. Now on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fetcht from fathers of war-proof;
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest,
That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you.

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