Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance After your thoughts, ftraight back again to France.

Gower.

[Exit.

AY, that's right: but why wear you your
Leek to day? St. David's day is past.

Flu. There is occafions and causes why and wherefore in all things; I will tell you as a friend, captain Gower; the rafcally, fcauld, beggarly, lowfy, pragging knave, Piftol, which you and yourfelf and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow. (look you now) of no merits; he is come to me and prings me pread and falt yesterday, look you, and bids me eat my Leek. It was in a place where I could breed no contentions with him; but I will be fo pold as to wear it in my cap, 'till I fee him once again; and then I will tell him a little piece of my defires.

Enter Piftol.

Gower Why, here he comes fwelling like a Turkeycock.

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his fwelling, nor his Turkeycocks. God plesse you, aunchient Piftol: you fcurvy lowly knave, God pleffe you.

Fift. Ha! art thou bedlam? doft thou thirst, base
Trojan,

To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
Hence, I am qualmifh at the smell of leek.

do not

Flu. I pefeech you heartily, fcurvy lowsy knave, at my defires, and my requefts and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: becaufe, look you, you love it; and your affections, and your appetites, and your digeftions, does not agree with it; I would defire you to eat it.

Pift. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats.
Flu. There is one Goat for you,

[Strikes him. Will you be fo good, fcauld knave, as eat it? Pift. Bafe Trojan, thou fhalt die.

Flu. You fay very true, fcauld knave, when God's will is: 1 defire you to live in the mean time and eat yourvictuals; come, there is fauce for it-[Strikes him.] You call'd me yesterday Mountain-Squire, but I will make you to day a Squire of low degree. I pray you fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. Gower. Enough, captain; you have astonish'd him. Flu. I fay, I will make him eat fome part of my leek, or I will peat his pate, four days and four nights. Pite, I pray you; it is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

Pit. Muft I bite?

Flu. Yes, out of doubt, and out of queftions too, and ambiguities.

Pift. By this leek, I will moft horribly revenge; I

eat and fwear

Flu. Eat, I pray you; will you have fome more fauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to fwear by.

Pift. Quiet thy cudgel; thou doft fee, I eat.

Flu. Much good do you, fcauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the fkin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take occafions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em, that's all.

Pift. Good.

Flu. Ay, leeks is good; hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.

Pift. Me a groat!

Flu. Yes, verily, and in truth, you shall take it; or I have anotherleek in my pocket, which you shall eat. Pift. I take thy groat in earneft of revenge. Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels;

O 3

cudgels; you fhall be a woodmonger, and buy no thing of me but cudgels; God pe wi you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

Pift. All hell fhall ftir for this.

[Exit.

Gow. Go, go, you are acounterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at an ancient tradition, began upon an honourable refpect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceas'd valour, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel; you find 'tis otherwife; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition: fare you well.

[Exit.

Pist. Doth fortune play the hufwife with me now? News have I, that my Dol is dead of malady of France; And there my rendezvous is quite cut off: Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd will I turn; And fomething lean to cut-purse of quick hand: To England will I fteal, and there I'll steal; And patches will I get unto these scars, And fwear, I got them in the Gallia Wars.

[Exit.

The French Court at Trois in Champaigne.

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

K. Henry. PEA are met:

Unto our brother France, and to our fifter,
Health and fair time of day; joy and good wifhes,
To our most fair and princely confin Catharine;

And

And as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great affembly is contriv'd,
We do falute you, Duke of Burgundy.

all.

And, Princes French, and Peers, health to you
Fr. King. Right joyous are we to behold your
face;

Moft worthy brother England, fairly met!
So are your, 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 borne in them
Against the French, that met them in their bent,
The fatal balls of murdering bafilifks:
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 strong 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 disgrace me,
If I demand, before this royal view,
What rub or what impediment there is,
Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace,
Dear nurfe of arts, plenties and joyful births,
Should not in this beft 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 lie on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility.

04

Her

1

H

Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Unpruned lies; her hedges even pleach'd,
Like prifoner, wildly over-grown with hair,
Put forth disorder'd twigs: her fallows leas
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory
Doth root upon; while that the culter rufts,
That fhould deracinate fuch favag'ry:

The even Mead, that erft brought fweetly forth
The freckled cowflip, burnet, and green clover,
Wanting the fithe, all uncorrected, rank,
Conceives by idlenefs; 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.
Even fo our horfes, and ourfelves and children
Have loft, or do not learn, for want of time,
The fciences, 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.
Which to reduce into our former favour,
You are affembled; and my fpeech intreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle peace
Should not expel thefe inconveniencies;
And bless us with her former qualities.

[peace,

K Henry. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the
Whofe 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 bands.
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, lies in his anfwer.

Fr. King.