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

[Exit. S CE N E II.

Gower. N

The English Camp in France.

Enter Fluellen and Gower. Gower. TAY, that's right: butwhy wear you your

Leek to day? St. David's day is pait. Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things; I will tell you as a friend, captain Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Piftol, which you and yourself 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 salt yesterday, look you, and bids me eat niy Leek. It was in a place where I could breed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap, 'till I see him once again; and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.

Enter Pistol. Gower .Why, here he comes swelling like a Turkeycock.

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swelling, nor his Turkeycocks. God plesse you, aunchient Pisiol : you scurvy lowly knave, God plesse you. Fift. Ha! art thou bedlam? doft thou thirst, base

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

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests and my petitions, to eat, look you, this lcek: because, look you, you do not rve it; and your affections, and your appetites, and Of ü.digestions, does not agree with it; I would Which ci to cat it.

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

you,

[Strikes him. Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?

Pift. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

Flu. You say very true, scauld knave, when God's will is: 1 desire you to live in the mean time and eat yourvi&tuals; come, there is sauce 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 10; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

Gower. Enough, captain; you liave astonish'd him.

Flu. I say, I will make him cat some 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.

Pijt. Mult I bite?

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

Pist. By this lcek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat and swearFlu. Eat, I pray you;

will
you

have some more sauce to your leek ? there is not enough leek to fwear by.

Pift. Quiet tlıy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat.

Flu. Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the skin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take occasions 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 anotherleekin my pocket, which you shall eat.

Pift. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge. Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in 03

cudgels;

1

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

[Exit.
Pift. All hell shall ftir for this.
Gow. Go, go, you are acounterfeit cowardly knave:
will you mock at an ancient tradition, began upon an
honourable respect, 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 na-
tive garb, he could not therefore handle an English
cudgel; you find 'tis otherwise; and henceforth let a
Wels correction teach you a good English condition:
fare you well.

(Exit.
Pist. Doth fortune play the huswife 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 something lean to cut-purse of quick hand:
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal;
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear, I got them in the Gallia Wars. [Exit.

S C E N E III.
The French Court at Trois in Champaigne.
Enter at one door King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, War-

wick, and other Lords; at another, the French King,
Queen Isabel, Princess Catharine, the Duke of Bur-
gundy, and other French.

EACE to this meeting, wherefore we

are met:
Unto our brother France, and to our filter,
Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes,
To our most fair and princely consin Catharine ;

And

K. Henry. PEA

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And as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great assembly is contriy'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;
Most worthy brother England, fairly met!
So are your, Princes English, every one.

l. Ifa. So happy be the Issue, 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 borné in them
Against the French, that met them in their bent,
The fatal balls of murdering basilisks :
The venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
Have lost their quality; and that this day
Shall change all griefs, and quarrels into love.

K. Henry. To cry Amen to that, thus we appear.
l. Ifa. You English Princes all, I do salute 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 Majesties
Unto this bar and royal interview,
Your Mightinefles on both parts can witness.
Since then my office hath so 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 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! she hath from France too long been chas'd;
And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility.

Her vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Unpruned lies ; her hedges even pleachd,
Like prisoner, 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 should deracinate such savag'ry :
The even Mead, that erst brought sweetly forth
The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,
Wanting the lithe, all uncorrected, rank,
Conceives by idleness; and nothing teems,
But hateful docks, rough chilles, keckfies, burs,
Losing both beauty and utility;
And all our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
Defeciire in their nurtures, grow to wildness.
Even so our horfes, and ourfelves and children
Have loft, or do not learn, for want of time,
The sciences, that should become our country;
But grow like savages, (as soldiers will,
That nothing do but meditate on blood)
To swearing and stern looks, diffus'd attire,
And every thing that seems unnatural.
Which to reduce into our former favour,
You are afsembled; and my speech intreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentic peace
Should not expel these inconveniencies;
And bless us with her former qualities. (peace,

K Henry. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the
Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections
Which you have cited; you must buy that peace
With full accord to all our just demands:
Whose tenours and particular effects
You have, enscheduld briefiy, 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 answer.

Ir. King.

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