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SCENE II. France. The FRENCH KING'S palace

Enter at one door, KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other LORDS; at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the PRINCESS KATHERINE, ALICE, and other LADIES; the DUKE OF BURGUNDY, and his train

KING HENRY.

Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!

Unto our brother France, and to our sister,

Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes

To our most fair and princely cousin Katherine.

And, as a branch and member of this royalty,

By whom this great assembly is contriv'd,

We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy.

And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!

FRENCH KING.

Right joyous are we to behold your face,

Most worthy brother England; fairly met!

So are you, princes English, every one.

QUEEN ISABEL.

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 home 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.

KING HENRY.

To cry amen to that, thus we appear.

QUEEN ISABEL.

You English princes an, I do salute you.

BURGUNDY.

My duty to you both, on equal love,

Great Kings of France and England! That I have labour'd

With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavours,

To bring your most imperial Majesties

Unto this bar and royal interview,

Your mightiness on both parts best 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 it own fertility.

Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,

Unpruned dies; her hedges even-pleach'd,

Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,

Put forth disorder'd twigs; her fallow leas

The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory,

Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts

That should deracinate such savagery;

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth

The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,

Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,

Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems

But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,

Losing both beauty and utility.

And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,

Defective in their natures, grow to wildness;

Even so our houses and ourselves and children

Have lost, 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 everything that seems unnatural.

Which to reduce into our former favout

You are assembled; and my speech entreats

That I may know the let why gentle Peace

Should not expel these inconveniences

And bless us with her former qualities.

KING HENRY.

If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace

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, enschedul'd briefly, in your hands.

BURGUNDY.

The King hath heard them; to the which as yet

There is no answer made.

KING HENRY.

Well then, the peace,

Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer.

FRENCH KING.

I have but with a cursorary eye

O'erglanced the articles; pleaseth your Grace

To appoint some of your council presently

To sit with us once more, with better heed

To re-survey them, we will suddenly

Pass our accept and peremptory answer.

KING HENRY.

Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter,