For now sits Expectation in the air, And hides a sword from hilt unto the point, O England! model to thy inward greatness, What might'st thou do, that honour would thee do, But see thy fault. France hath in thee found out At Southampton, then, we imagine a council-chamber: several noblemen are in conversation, and among them the princes of the blood, the king's brothers, the dukes of Bedford and Gloucester, known at the court of Henry IV. as prince John and prince Humphrey,-and the king's uncle, the duke of Exeter: Bedford is the speaker we first hear: [traitors: [Bedford.] 'Fore heaven, his grace is bold to trust these How smooth and even they do bear themselves, As if allegiance in their bosoms sat Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. [Exeter.] They shall be apprehended by and by: The king hath note of all that they intend, By interception which they dream not of. [Gloster.] Nay, but the man who was his closest friend, Whom he hath grac'd and cloy'd with princely favours, That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell His sovereign's life—but see, the traitors come. King Henry enters the chamber with many persons of his court, to whom he speaks as he comes in: [K. Henry.] Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. My lord of Cambridge,—you, my lord of Masham,— And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts; And tell me if you think the powers we have Will cut their passage through the heart of France? [Scroop.] No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. [know [K. Henry.] We doubt not that, lord Scroop; for well we [Cambridge.] Never was monarch better lov'd, than is [K. Henry.] My lord of Cambridge, We do not doubt you speak but as you feel. [Grey.] Even those that were your father's enemies, Serve you with hearts of duty, and of zeal. [K. Henry.] Therefore, Sir Thomas Grey, we are much And shall forget the office of our hand, Sooner than quittance of desert and merit. Enlarge the man committed yesterday That rail'd against our person: we consider It was excess of wine that set him on, [thankful, And freely pardon him. What think you, lords? Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, signify to the king that such lenity may be prejudicial, and advise him to retract his pardon: the king continues: Alas! your too much love and care of me Shall not be wink'd at, what, when capi'tal crimes Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear [Cambridge.] We are, my liege; and you did bid us ask To-day for our commissions. [K. Hen.] Then, Richard earl of Cambridge, there is yours; So much complexion? look ye, how they change! You ask for mercy! The mercy that was quick in us but late, By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: These English monsters! My lord Cambridge here,- This man, practis'd upon by crafty France, Would'st thou have practis'd on me for thy use : Should out of thee extract one spark of evil Tis so strange, That, though the truth of it stand off as plain The sweetness of affiance: show men dutiful? [a pause.] [light Now, lords, for France. Since heaven hath brought to THE INVASION OF FRANCE; AND THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT; INDICATED BY THE CHORUS; AND BY SCENES SUPPOSED AT HARFLEUR; IN THE ENGLISH CAMP IN PICARDY; AND ON THE PLAINS OF AGINCOURT. HISTORICAL MEMORANDA. Henry V. landed at Harfleur, Aug. 24, 1415: the town capitulated on 18th September. The army was much wasted by the siege and the unusual heat of the season, and Henry not being able at that time to prosecute his enterprise, was obliged to think of returning to England. But he had dismissed his transports, which could not anchor in an open road on the enemy's coasts; and he lay under the necessity of marching by land to Calais before he could reach a place of safety. A French army, four times as numerous as that which remained to Henry, was ready to oppose him on his march; and therefore he offered to sacrifice his conquest of Harfleur for a safe passage to Calais. This being rejected, he began his march with a determination of winning that by his sword, which was refused to his entreaty; and on his way, he won the battle of Azincour or, as it is commonly called, Agincourt. [Chorus.] Wing'd by your fancies, our swift scene shall fly In motion of no less celerity Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow,--- I |