The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

O, pardon! since a crooked figure may

Attest in little place a million;

And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work.

Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confin’d two mighty monarchies, Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.

Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts: Into a thousand parts divide one man,

And make imaginary puissance;

Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i’ th’ receiving earth; For ‘tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there, jumping o’er times, Turning th’ accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass; for the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history;

Who prologue-like, your humble patience pray Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. Exit

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ACT I. SCENE I.

London. An ante-chamber in the KING’S palace Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP OF ELY

CANTERBURY. My lord, I’ll tell you: that self bill is urg’d Which in th’ eleventh year of the last king’s reign Was like, and had indeed against us pass’d But that the scambling and unquiet time Did push it out of farther question.

ELY. But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?

CANTERBURY. It must be thought on. If it pass against us, We lose the better half of our possession; For all the temporal lands which men devout By testament have given to the church

Would they strip from us; being valu’d thus-As much as would maintain, to the King’s honour, Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; And, to relief of lazars and weak age, Of indigent faint souls, past corporal toil, A hundred alms-houses right well supplied; And to the coffers of the King, beside, A thousand pounds by th’ year: thus runs the bill.

ELY. This would drink deep.

CANTERBURY. ‘T would drink the cup and all.

ELY. But what prevention?

CANTERBURY. The King is full of grace and fair regard.

ELY. And a true lover of the holy Church.

CANTERBURY. The courses of his youth promis’d it not.

The breath no sooner left his father’s body But that his wildness, mortified in him, Seem’d to die too; yea, at that very moment, Consideration like an angel came

And whipp’d th’ offending Adam out of him, Leaving his body as a paradise

T’envelop and contain celestial spirits.

Never was such a sudden scholar made;

Never came reformation in a flood,

With such a heady currance, scouring faults; Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulnes

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once, As in this king.

ELY. We are blessed in the change.

CANTERBURY. Hear him but reason in divinity, And, all-admiring, with an inward wish You would desire the King were made a prelate; Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, You would say it hath been all in all his study; List his discourse of war, and you shall hear A fearful battle rend’red you in music.

Turn him to any cause of policy,

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks, The air, a charter’d libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men’s ears To steal his sweet and honey’d sentences; So that the art and practic part of life Must be the mistress to this theoric;

Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it, Since his addiction was to courses vain, His companies unletter’d, rude, and shallow, His hours fill’d up with riots, banquets, sports; And never noted in him any study,

Any retirement, any sequestration

From open haunts and popularity.

ELY. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle, And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality; And so the Prince obscur’d his contemplation Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

CANTERBURY. It must be so; for miracles are ceas’d; And therefore we must needs admit the means How things are perfected.

ELY. But, my good lord,

How now for mitigation of this bill

Urg’d by the Commons? Doth his Majesty Incline to it, or no?

CANTERBURY. He seems indifferent

Or rather swaying more upon our part

Than cherishing th’ exhibiters against us; For I have made an offer to his Majesty-Upon our spiritual convocation

And in regard of causes now in hand,

Which I have open’d to his Grace at large, As touching France-to give a greater sum Than ever at one time the clergy yet

Did to his predecessors part withal.

ELY. How did this offer seem receiv’d, my lord?

CANTERBURY. With good acceptance of his Majesty; Save that there was not time enough to hear, As I perceiv’d his Grace would fain have done, The severals and unhidden passages

Of his true tides to some certain dukedoms, And generally to the crown and seat of France, Deriv’d from Edward, his great-grandfather.

ELY. What was th’ impediment that broke this off?

CANTERBURY. The French ambassador upon that instant Crav’d audience; and the hour, I think, is come To give him hearing: is it four o’clock?

ELY. It is.

CANTERBURY. Then go we in, to know his embassy; Which I could with a ready guess declare, Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.

ELY. I’ll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. Exeunt

SCENE II.

London. The Presence Chamber in the KING’S palace Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and attendants

KING HENRY. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?

EXETER. Not here in presence.

KING HENRY. Send for him, good uncle.

WESTMORELAND. Shall we call in th’ ambassador, my liege?

KING HENRY. Not yet, my cousin; we would be resolv’d, Before we hear him, of some things of weight That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.

Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP OF ELY

CANTERBURY. God and his angels guard your sacred throne, And make you long become it!

KING HENRY. Sure, we thank you.

My learned lord, we pray you to proceed, And justly and religiously unfold

Why the law Salique, that they have in France, Or should or should not bar us in our claim; And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, Or nicely charge your understanding soul With opening titles miscreate whose right Suits not in native colours with the truth; For God doth know how many, now in health, Shall drop their blood in approbation Of what your reverence shall incite us to.

Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, How you awake our sleeping sword of war-We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; For never two such kingdoms did contend Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops Are every one a woe, a sore complaint, ‘Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords That makes such waste in brief mortality.

Under this conjuration speak, my lord; For we will hear, note, and believe in heart, That what you speak is in your conscience wash’d As pure as sin with baptism.

CANTERBURY. Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, That owe yourselves, your lives, and services, To this imperial throne. There is no bar To make against your Highness’ claim to France But this, which they produce from Pharamond: ‘In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant’-

‘No woman shall succeed in Salique land’; Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze To be the realm of France, and Pharamond The founder of this law and female bar.

Yet their own authors faithfully affirm That the land Salique is in Germany,

Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; Where Charles the Great, having subdu’d the Saxons, There left behind and settled certain French; Who, holding in disdain the German women For some dishonest manners of their life, Establish’d then this law: to wit, no female Should be inheritrix in Salique land; Which Salique, as I said, ‘twixt Elbe and Sala, Is at this day in Germany call’d Meisen.

Then doth it well appear the Salique law Was not devised for the realm of France; Nor did the French possess the Salique land Until four hundred one and twenty years After defunction of King Pharamond,

Idly suppos’d the founder of this law; Who died within the year of our redemption Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great Subdu’d the Saxons, and did seat the French Beyond the river Sala, in the year

Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,

Did, as heir general, being descended Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, Make claim and title to the crown of France.

Hugh Capet also, who usurp’d the crown Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, To find his title with some shows of truth-Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught-Convey’d himself as th’ heir to th’ Lady Lingare, Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the son Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, Could not keep quiet in his conscience, Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,

Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine; By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great Was re-united to the Crown of France.

So that, as clear as is the summer’s sun, King Pepin’s title, and Hugh Capet’s claim, King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear To hold in right and tide of the female; So do the kings of France unto this day, Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law To bar your Highness claiming from the female; And rather choose to hide them in a net Than amply to imbar their crooked tides Usurp’d from you and your progenitors.

KING HENRY. May I with right and conscience make this claim?

CANTERBURY. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!

For in the book of Numbers is it writ, When the man dies, let the inheritance Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag, Look back into your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb, From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, And your great-uncle’s, Edward the Black Prince, Who on the French ground play’d a tragedy, Making defeat on the fun power of France, Whiles his most mighty father on a hill Stood smiling to behold his lion’s whelp Forage in blood of French nobility.

O noble English, that could entertain With half their forces the full pride of France, And let another half stand laughing by, All out of work and cold for action!

ELY. Awake remembrance of these valiant dead, And with your puissant arm renew their feats.

You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; The blood and courage that renowned them Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege Is in the very May-morn of his youth, Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.

EXETER. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, As did the former lions of your blood.

WESTMORELAND. They know your Grace hath cause and means