Being free from vainnefs and felf-glorious pride:
Giving full trophy, fignal, and oftent,
Quite from himself to God. But now behold,
In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens:
The Mayor and all his brethren in best fort,
Like to the fenators of antique Rome,
- With the Plebeians fwarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conqu❜ring Cafar in.
• As by a low, but loving likelihood,

3 Were now the General of our gracious Empress
(As in good time he may) from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his fword;
How many would the peaceful city quit,
To welcome him? much more (and much more caufe)
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;
(As yet the lamentation of the French
Invites the King of England's Stay at home:
The Emperor's coming in behalf of France,
To order peace between them;) and omit
All the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
'Till Harry's back return again to France:
There must we bring him; and my self have play'd
The int'rim, by remembring you, 'tis paft.
Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance
After your thoughts, ftraight back again to France.

1 Like to the fenators of antique Rome,] This is a very extraordinary compliment to the City. But he ever declines all general fatire on them; and, in the epilogue to Henry VIII, he hints with difapprobation on his contemporary poets who were accuf tomed to abufe them. Indeed his fatire is very rarely partial or licentious.

2 As by a low, but loving likelihood,] Likelihood, for fimilitude. 3 Were now the General &c.] The Earl of Effex in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

Mr. Pope.

SCENE

The English Camp in France.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gow. Leek to day? St. David's day is past.

AY, that's right: but why wear you your

Flu. There is occafions and caufes why and wherefore in all things; I will tell you as a friend, captain Gower; the rafcally, fcauld, beggarly, lowfie, pragging knave, Piftol, which you and your felf 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 Pistol.

Gow. Why, here he comes fwelling like a Turky-cock. Flu. 'Tis no matter for his fwelling, nor his Turkycocks. God pleffe you, aunchient Pistol: you fcurvy lowfie knave, God pleffe you.

Pift. 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 pefeech you heartily, scurvy lowfie knave, at my defires, and my requests and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: becaufe, look you, you do not love it; and your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, 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. Base Trojan, thou fhalt die.

Flu. You fay very true, scauld knave, when God's will is: I defire you to live in the mean time and eat your victuals; 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.

Gow. 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.

Pift. Muft I bite?

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

Pift. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat and fwear

Flu. Eat, I pray you; will you have fome more fawce 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 skin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take occafions to fee 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 another leek in my pocket, which you fhall eat. Pift. I take thy groat in earneft of revenge.

Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels; you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels; God pe wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.

VOL. IV.

[Exit.

Pift.

Pift. All hell fhall ftir for this.

Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit 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 feen 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. Pift. Doth fortune play the hufwife with me now? News have I, that my Dolis 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-purfe 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.

K. Henry.

Eace to this meeting, wherefore we are

Peace

met: .

Unto our brother France, and to our fifter,
Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes,
To our most fair and princely coufin Catharine;
And as a branch and member of this royalty,
By whom this great affembly is contriv'd,

We

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.

2. 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 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.
2. 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 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 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 lye on heaps,
Corrupting in its own fertility.

E e 2

"Her