SCENE, the French Court, at Trois in Cham

paigne.

Enter at one door King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwick, and other Lords; at another, the French King, Queen Ifabel, Princess Catharine, the Duke of Burgundy, and other French.

Eace to this meeting, wherefore we are

K. Henry. Place

met: .

Unto our brother France, and to our sister,

Health and fair time of day; joy, and good wishes,
To our most fair and princely cousin Catharine;
And as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great affembly is contriv'd,
We do falute you, Duke of Burgundy.

And, Princes French, and Peers, health to you all.
Fr. King. Right joyous are we to behold your face;
Moft worthy brother England, fairly met!
So are you, Princes English, every one.

Q. Ifa. So happy be the iffue, brother England,
Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,
As we are now glad to behold your eyes:
Your eyes, which hitherto have born in thein
Against the French, that met them in their bent,
The fatal balls of murthering bafilisks:
The venom of fuch looks, we fairly hope,
Have loft their quality; and that this day
Shall change all griefs, and quarrels into love.
K. Henry. To cry Amen to that, thus we appear."
Q. Ifa. You English Princes all, I do falute you.
Burg. My duty to you both, on equal love,
Great Kings of France, and England. That I've labour'd
With all my wits, my pains, and ftrong endeavours,
To bring your most imperial Majefties

Unto this bar and royal interview,

Your Mightineffes on both parts can witness.
Since then my office hath fo far prevail'd,
That, face to face and royal eye to eye,

You have congreeted: let it not difgrace me,
If I demand, before this royal view,
What rub or what impediment there is,
Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace,
Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births,
Should not in this best garden of the world,
Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?
Alas! fhe hath from France too long been chas'd;
And all her husbandry doth lye on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility..

Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart, (40)
Unpruned lyes; her hedges even pleach'd,
Like prifoners, wildly over-grown with hair,
Put forth diforder'd twigs: her fallow leas
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
Doth root upon; while that the culter rufts,
That fhould deracinate fuch favagery:

The even mead, that erft brought fweetly forth
The freckled cowflip, burnet, and green clover,
Wanting the fcythe, all uncorrected, rank,
Conceives by idleness; and nothing teems,
But hateful docks, rough thistles, keckfies, burs,
Lofing both beauty and utility;

And all our vineyards, fallows, meads and hedges,
Defective in their nurtures, grow to wildness. (41)
Even fo our houfes, and our felves and children.
Have loft, or do not learn, for want of time,
The sciences, that should become our country;
But grow like favages, (as foldiers will,
That nothing do but meditate on blood)
To fwearing and ftern looks, diffus'd attire,
And every thing that feems unnatural.

(40) Her Vine -Unpruned dyes :] We must read, as Mr. Warburton intimated to me, lies: For neglect of Pruning does not kill the Vine, but caufes it to ramify immoderately, and grow wild; by which the requifite Nourishment is withdrawn from its Fruit.

(41) Defective in their Natures, grow to Wildness.] Quite contrary; they were not defective, but exuberant in their Natures, and crefcive Faculty only, wanting their due Cultivation, they degenerated. We must therefore read, Nurtures. Mr. Warburton.

Which to reduce into our former favour,
You are affembled ; and my speech intreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle peace
Should not expel these inconveniencies;
And blefs us with her former qualities.

K. Henry. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace, Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections Which you have cited; you must buy that peace With full accord to all our juft demands:

Whose tenours and particular effects

You have, enfchedul'd briefly, in your hands.

Burg. The King hath heard them; to the which as yet There is no answer made.

K. Henry. Well, then; the peace,

Which you before fo urg'd, lyes in his anfwer.
Fr. King. I have but with a curforary eye
O'er-glanc'd the articles; pleafeth your Grace
T'appoint fome of your Council presently
To fit with us, once more with better heed
To re-furvey them; we will fuddenly (42)
Pafs, or, accept, and peremptory answer.

K. Henry. Brother, we fhall. Go, uncle Exeter,
And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester,
Warwick and Huntington, go with the King;
And take with you free Pow'r to ratifie,
Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best
Shall fee advantageable for our dignity,
Any thing in, or out of, our Demands;

we will fuddenly

(42) Pafs our accept, and peremptory anfwer.] As the French King defires more Time to confider deliberately of the Articles, tis odd and abfurd for him to say abfolutely, that he would accept them all. He certainly muft mean, that he would at once wave and decline what he dislik'd, and confign to fuch as he approv'd of. Our Author uses pass in this manner, in other places. K. John ;

But if you fondly pass our proffer'd Love ;
And Othello;

Yet, furely, Caffio, I believe, receiv'd
From him that fled fome ftrange Indignity,
Which Patience could not pass.

Mr. Warburton.

And

And we'll confign thereto. Will you, fair fister,
Go with the Princes, or ftay here with us?

Q. Ifa. Our gracious brother, I will go with them;
Haply, a woman's voice may do fome good,
When articles, too nicely urg'd, be ftood on.

K. Henry. Yet leave our coufin Catharine here with us, She is our capital demand, compris'd

Within the fore-rank of our articles.

Q. Ifa. She hath good leave.

[Exeunt.

Manent King Henry, Catharine, and a Lady.

K. Henry. Fair Catharine, moft fair,

Will you vouchfafe to teach a foldier terms,

Such as will enter at a lady's ear,

And plead his love-fuit to her gentle heart?

Cath. Your Majefty fhall mock at me, I cannot speak your England.

K. Henry. O fair Catharine, if you will love me foundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confefs it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?

Cath. Pardonnez moy, I cannot tell vat is like me.

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, vrayement, (fauf voftre grace) ainfi dit-il. K. Henry. I faid fo, dear Catharine, and I muft not blush to affirm it.

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

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

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

K. Henry. The Princess is the better English Woman. I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding; I am glad thou canft speak no better English, for if thou could'ft, thou would'ft find me fuch a plain King, that thou would't think I had fold my farm to buy my

Crown.

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.

K. 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 meafure; 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-an-apes, 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-burning; that never looks in his glafs for love of any thing he fees there; let thine eye be thy cook. I fpeak plain foldier; if thou canst love me for this, take me; if not, to fay to thee that I fhall die, is true; but for thy love, by the lord, no: yet I love thee too. And while thou liv'ft, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined conftancy, for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhime themselves into ladies favours, they do always reason 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 course truly. If thou would'st have fuch a one, take

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