_Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS, R.H._
_Will._ I warrant it is to knight you, captain.
_Enter FLUELLEN, R.H._
_Flu._ Heaven's will and pleasure, captain, I peseech you now, come
apace to the king: there is more goot toward you peradventure than is in
your knowledge to dream of.
_Will._ Sir, know you this glove?
_Flu._ (C.) Know the glove! I know, the glove is a glove.
_Will._ (R.C.) I know this; and thus I challenge it.
[_Strikes him._
_Flu._ 'Sblud, an arrant traitor as any's in the universal 'orld, or in
France, or in England!
_Gow._ (L.C.) How now, sir! you villain!
_Will._ Do you think I'll be forsworn?
_Flu._ Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give treason his payment in
plows, I warrant you.
_Will._ I am no traitor.
_Flu._ That's a lie in thy throat.--I charge you in his majesty's name,
apprehend him: he's a friend of the duke Alencon's.
_Enter WARWICK and GLOSTER,(P) R.H._
_Glos._ (_crosses to C._) How now, how now! what's the matter?
_Flu._ My lord of Gloster, here is (praised be Heaven for it!) a most
contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall desire in a
summer's day. Here is his majesty.
_Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, and others, U.E.L.H._
_K. Hen._ (_coming down centre._) How now! what's the matter?
_Flu._ (L.H.) My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look your
grace, has struck the glove which your majesty is take out of the helmet
of Alencon.
_Will._ (R.C.) My liege, this was my glove; here is the fellow of it;
and he that I gave it to in change promised to wear it in his cap:
I promised to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my glove in his
cap, and I have been as good as my word.
_Flu._ Your majesty hear now (saving your majesty's manhood) what an
arrant, rascally, beggarly, lowsy knave it is: I hope, your majesty is
pear me testimony, and witness, and avouchments, that this is the glove
of Alencon, that your majesty is give me, in your conscience, now.
_K. Hen._ Give me thy glove, soldier: Look, here is the fellow of it.
'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike; and thou hast given me most
bitter terms.
[_WILLIAMS falls on his knee._
_Flu._ An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it, if there is
any martial law in the 'orld.
_K. Hen._ How can'st thou make me satisfaction?
_Will._ All offences, my liege, come from the heart: never came any from
mine, that might offend your majesty.
_K. Hen._ It was ourself thou didst abuse.
_Will._ Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to me but as a
common man; witness the night, your garments, your lowliness; and what
your highness suffered under that shape, I beseech you, take it for your
own fault, and not mine: for had you been as I took you for, I made no
offence; therefore, I beseech your highness, pardon me.
_K. Hen._ Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
And give it to this fellow.-- (_WILLIAMS rises._) Keep it, fellow;
And wear it for an honour in thy cap
Till I do challenge it.--Give him the crowns:--
And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.
[_The KING goes up the stage with EXETER, BEDFORD, and GLOSTER._
_Flu._ By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough in his
pelly.--Hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you to serve
Heaven, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and quarrels, and
dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the petter for you.
_Will._ I will none of your money.
_Flu._ It is with a goot will; I can tell you, it will serve you to mend
your shoes: Come, wherefore should you be so pashful? your shoes is not
so goot: 'tis a goot silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.
[_Exit WILLIAMS, R.H._
[_Enter ENGLISH HERALD, R.H._
_K. Hen._ (_coming down C._) Now, herald, are the dead number'd?
[_HERALD uncovers, kneels, and delivers papers.
The KING gives one paper to EXETER._
_K. Hen._ (C.) What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
_Exe._ (L.C.) Charles duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;
John duke of Bourbon, and lord Bouciqualt:
Of other lords and barons, knights and 'squires,
Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
_K. Hen._ (C.) This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lie slain: of princes, in this number,
And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
One hundred twenty-six: added to these,
Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:[32]
So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries:[33]
The rest are--princes, barons, lords, knights, 'squires,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.
Here was a royal fellowship of death!----(Q)
What is the number of our English dead?
_Exe._ (L.C.) Edward the duke of York, the earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketley, Davy Gam, esquire:
None else of name; and of all other men
But five and twenty.
_K. Hen._ O Heaven, thy arm was here;
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on the other?--Take it, Heaven,
For it is only thine!
[_Returns papers to HERALD, who rises and stands L._
_Exe._ 'Tis wonderful!
_K. Hen._ Come, go we in procession to the village:
And be it death proclaimed through our host
To boast of this, or take that praise from Heaven
Which is his only.
_Flu._ (R.C.) Is it not lawful, and please your majesty, to tell how
many is killed?
_K. Hen._ (_up the stage C._)
Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment,
That Heaven fought for us.
_Flu._ Yes, my conscience, he did us great goot.
_K. Hen._ Do we all holy rites:(R)
[_The curtains of the Royal Pavilion are drawn aside,
and discover an Altar and Priests._
Let there be sung _Non nobis_ and _Te Deum_;
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay:
We'll then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men.
[_Organ music; all kneel, and join in Song of Thanksgiving._
END OF ACT FOUR.
[Footnote IV.32: _Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd
knights:_] In ancient times, the distribution of this honor
appears to have been customary on the eve of a battle.]
[Footnote IV.33: _Sixteen hundred mercenaries;_] i.e., common
soldiers, hired soldiers.]
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT FOURTH.
(A) _The English Camp at Agincourt._] The French were about a quarter of
a mile from them at Agincourt and Ruisseauville, and both armies
proceeded to light their fires, and to make the usual arrangements for a
bivouack. The night was very rainy, and much inconvenience is said to
have been experienced in each camp from wet and cold, accompanied, among
the English, by hunger and fatigue. It was passed in a manner strictly
consistent with their relative situations. The French, confident in
their numbers, occupied the hours not appropriated to sleep in
calculating upon their success; and in full security of a complete
victory, played at dice with each other for the disposal of their
prisoners, an archer being valued at a blank, and the more important
persons in proportion; whilst the English were engaged in preparing
their weapons, and in the most solemn acts of religion. * * * The
Chronicler in the text states, that from the great stillness which
prevailed throughout the English camp, the enemy imagined they were
panic-struck, and intended to decamp. Monstrelet relates that the
English "were much fatigued and oppressed by cold, hunger, and other
annoyances; that they made their peace with God, by confessing their
sins with tears, and numbers of them taking the sacrament; for, as it
was related by some prisoners, they looked for certain death on the
morrow."
(B) _Enter Erpingham._] Sir Thomas Erpingham came over with Bolingbroke
from Bretagne, and was one of the commissioners to receive King
Richard's abdication. In Henry the Fifth's time Sir Thomas was warden of
Dover Castle, and at the battle of Agincourt, was commander of the
Archers. This venerable knight is described by Monstrelet to have grown
grey with age and honour; and when orders were given for the English
army to march toward the enemy, by Henry crying aloud, "Advance
banners," Sir Thomas threw his truncheon in the air as a signal to the
whole field, exclaiming, "Now strike;" and loud and repeated shouts
testified the readiness with which they obeyed the command.
(C) _I Richard's body have interred new;_] Henry was anxious not only to
repair his own misconduct, but also to make amends for those iniquities
into which policy or the necessity of affairs had betrayed his father.
He expressed the deepest sorrow for the fate of the unhappy Richard, did
justice to the memory of that unfortunate prince, even performed his
funeral obsequies with pomp and solemnity, and cherished all those who
had distinguished themselves by their loyalty and attachment towards
him. --_Hume's History of England._
(D) _Enter Orleans._] Charles Duke of Orleans was wounded and taken
prisoner at Agincourt. Henry refused all ransom for him, and he remained
in captivity twenty-three years.
This prince was a celebrated poet, and some of his most beautiful verses
were composed during his confinement in the Tower of London. He married
Isabella of Valois, daughter of Charles VI. and Isabeau of Bavaria,
eldest sister to the Princess Katharine, Queen of Henry V.
Isabella was the widow of our Richard the Second when she married the
Duke of Orleans.
After the victory of Agincourt, the following anecdote is related by
Remy:-- "During their journey to Calais, at a place where they rested,
Henry caused bread and wine to be brought to him, which he sent to the
Duke of Orleans; but the French Prince would neither eat nor drink. This
being reported to the King, he imagined that it arose from
dissatisfaction, and, therefore, went to the duke. 'Noble cousin,' said
Henry, 'how are you?' 'Well, my lord,' answered the duke. 'Why, then, is
it,' added the King, 'that you will neither eat nor drink?' To which
Orleans replied, 'that truly he had no inclination for food.' 'Noble
cousin,' rejoined Henry, 'be of good heart. I know that God gave me the
victory over the French, not that I deserved it, but I fully believe
that he wished to punish them; and if what I have heard is true, it is
not to be wondered at, for never were there greater disorder,
sensuality, sins, and vices seen than now prevail in France; which it is
horrible to hear described; and if God is provoked, it is not a subject
of surprise, and no one can be astonished.' Many more conversations are
said to have passed between the King and the Duke of Orleans, and the
commisseration and courtesy of the former to his prisoners is mentioned
by every writer in terms of just praise."
(E) _The English army, drawn up for battle;_] The victory gained at
Agincourt, in the year 1415, is, in a great measure, ascribed to the
English Archers, and that there might be no want of arrows, Henry V.
ordered the sheriffs of several counties to procure feathers from the
wings of geese, plucking six from each goose. An archer of this time was
clad in a cuirass, or a hauberk of chain-mail, with a salade on his
head, which was a kind of bacinet. Every man had a good bow, a sheaf of
arrows, and a sword. Fabian describes the archer's dress at the battle
of Agincourt. "The yeomen had their limbs at liberty, for their hose was
fastened with one point, and their jackets were easy to shoot in, so
that they might draw bows of great strength, and shoot arrows a yard
long." Some are described as without hats or caps, others with caps of
boiled leather, or wicker work, crossed over with iron; some without
shoes, and all in a very dilapidated condition. Each bore on his
shoulder a long stake, sharpened at both extremities, which he was
instructed to fix obliquely before him in the ground, and thus oppose a
rampart of pikes to the charge of the French Cavalry.
(F) _O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to day!_]
A certain lord Walter Hungerford, knight, was regretting in the king's
presence that he had not, in addition to the small retinue which he had
there, ten thousand of the best English Archers, who would be desirous
of being with him; when the King said, Thou speaketh foolishly, for, by
the God of Heaven, on whose grace I have relied, and in whom I have a
firm hope of victory, I would not, even if I could, increase my number
by one; for those whom I have are the people of God, whom He thinks me
worthy to have at this time. Dost thou not believe the Almighty, with
these his humble few, is able to conquer the haughty opposition of the
French, who pride themselves on their numbers, and their own strength,
as if it might be said they would do as they liked? And in my opinion,
God, of his true justice, would not bring any disaster upon one of so
great confidence, as neither fell out to Judas Maccabeus until he became
distrustful, and thence deservedly fell into ruin. --_Nicolas's History
of Agincourt._
(G) _Enter King Henry, attended._] Henry rose with the earliest dawn,
and immediately heard three masses. He was habited in his "_cote
d'armes_," containing the arms of France and England quarterly, and wore
on his bacinet a very rich crown of gold and jewels, circled like an
imperial crown, that is, arched over. The earliest instance of an arched
crown worn by an English monarch. --_Vide Planche's History of British
Costume._
King Henry had at Agincourt for his person five banners; that is, the
banner of the Trinity, the banner of St. George, the banner of St.
Edward, the banner of St. Edmund, and the banner of his own arms. "When
the King of England had drawn up his order of battle he made a fine
address to his troops, exhorting them to act well; saying, that he was
come into France to recover his lawful inheritance, and that he had good
and just cause to claim it; that in that quarrel they might freely and
surely fight; that they should remember that they were born in the
kingdom where their fathers and mothers, wives and children, now dwelt,
and therefore they ought to strive to return there with great glory and
fame; that the kings of England, his predecessors, had gained many noble
battles and successes over the French; that on that day every one should
endeavour to preserve his own person and the honor of the crown of the
King of England. He moreover reminded them that the French boasted they
would cut off three fingers from the right hand of every archer they
should take, so that their shot should never again kill man nor horse.
The army cried out loudly, saying, 'Sir, we pray God give you a good
life, and the victory over your enemies.'" --_Nicolas's History of
Agincourt._
The banner of the Oriflamme is said to have been unfurled by the French
for the last time at Agincourt.
(H) _The feast of Crispian._] The battle of Agincourt was fought upon
the 25th of October, 1415, St. Crispin's day. The legend upon which this
is founded, is as follows:-- "Crispinus and Crispianus were brethren,
born at Rome; from whence they travelled to Soissons in France, about
the year 303, to propagate the Christian religion; but because they
would not be chargeable to others for their maintenance, they exercised
the trade of shoemakers; but the Governor of the town, discovering them
to be Christians, ordered them to be beheaded about the year 303. From
which time, the shoemakers made choice of them for their tutelar
saints." --_See Hall's Chronicle._
(I) _Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster._]
Although Shakespeare has adhered very closely to history in many parts
of Henry V., he has deviated very much from it in the _Dramatis
Personae_. He makes the Duke of Bedford accompany Henry to Harfleur and
Agincourt when he was Regent of England. The Earl of Exeter, or, more
properly speaking, the Earl of Dorset, was left to command Harfleur; the
Earl of Westmoreland, so far from quitting England, was appointed to
defend the marches of Scotland, nor does it appear that the Earl of
Salisbury was either at Harfleur or Agincourt. The Earl of Warwick[*]
had returned to England ill from Harfleur. The characters introduced in
the play who really were at Agincourt, are the Dukes of Gloucester and
York, and Sir Thomas Erpingham.
Holinshed states that the English army consisted of 15,000, and the
French of 60,000 horse and 40,000 infantry--in all, 100,000. Walsingham
and Harding represent the English as but 9,000, and other authors say
that the number of French amounted to 150,000. Fabian says the French
were 40,000, and the English only 7,000. The battle lasted only three
hours.
[Footnote *: Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. He did not obtain
that title till 1417, two years after the era of this play.]
(K) _How thou pleasest, Heaven, dispose the day._] At the battle of
Agincourt, having chosen a convenient spot on which to martial his men,
the king sent privately two hundred archers into a low meadow, which was
on one of his flanks, where they were so well secured by a deep ditch
and a marsh, that the enemy could not come near them. Then he divided
his infantry into three squadrons, or battles; the van-warde, or
avant-guard, composed entirely of archers; the middle-warde, of bill-men
only; and the rerewarde, of bill-men and archers mixed together; the
horse-men, as wings, went on the flanks of each of the battles. He also
caused stakes to be made of wood about five or six feet long, headed
with sharp iron; these were fixed in the ground, and the archers so
placed before them that they were entirely hid from the sight of the
enemy. When, therefore, the heavy cavalry of the French charged, which
was done with the utmost impetuosity, under the idea of cutting down and
riding over the archers, they shrunk at once behind the stakes, and the
Frenchmen, unable to stop their horses, rode full upon them, so that
they overthrew their riders, and caused the utmost confusion. The
infantry, who were to follow up and support this charge, were so struck
with amazement that they hesitated, and by this were lost, for during
the panic the English archers threw back their bows, and with axes,
bills, glaives, and swords, slew the French, till they met the
middle-warde. The king himself, according to Speed, rode in the main
battle completely armed, his shield quartering the achievements of
France and England; upon his helm he wore a coronet encircled with
pearls and precious stones, and after the victory, although it had been
cut and bruised, he would not suffer it to be ostentatiously exhibited
to the people, but ordered all his men to give the glory to God alone.
His horse was one of fierce courage, and had a bridle and furniture of
goldsmiths' work, and the caparisons were most richly embroidered with
the victorious ensigns of the English monarchy. Thus is he represented
on his great seal, with the substitution of a knights' cap, and the
crest, for the chaplet. Elmham's account, from which this is amplified,
is more particular in some of the details; he relates, that the king
appeared on a palfrey, followed by a train of led horses, ornamented
with the most gorgeous trappings; his helmet was of polished steel,
surmounted with a coronet sparkling with jewels, and on his surcoat, or
rather jupon, were emblazoned the arms of France and England, azure,
three fleurs-de-lis or, and gules, three lion's passant guardant or. The
nobles, in like manner, were decorated with their proper armorial
bearings. Before him was borne the royal standard, which was ornamented
with gold and splendid colours. An account of the memorable battle of
Azincourt, or Agincourt, fought on the 25th of October, 1415, is thus
related by Mr. Turner:-- "At dawn the King of England had matins and the
mass chaunted in his army. He stationed all the horses and baggage in
the village, under such small guard as he could spare, having resolved
to fight the battle on foot. He sagaciously perceived that his only
chance of victory rested in the superiority of the personal fortitude
and activity of his countrymen, and to bring them face to face, and arm
to arm, with their opponents, was the simple object of his tactical
dispositions. He formed his troops into three divisions, with two wings.
The centre, in which he stationed himself, he planted to act against the
main body of the French, and he placed the right and left divisions,
with their wings, at a small distance only from himself. He so chose his
ground that the village protected his rear, and hedges and briars
defended his flanks. Determined to shun no danger, but to be a
conspicuous example to his troops on a day when no individual exertions
could be spared, he put on a neat and shining armour, with a large and
brilliant helmet, and on this he placed a crown, radiant with its
jewels, and he put over him a tunic adorned with the arms of France and
England. He mounted his horse, and proceeded to address his troops. The
French were commanded by the Constable of France, and with him were the
Dukes of Orleans, Burgundy, Berry, and Alencon, the Marshal and Admiral
of France, and a great assemblage of French nobility. Their force was
divided into three great battalions, and continued formed till ten
o'clock, not advancing to the attack. They were so numerous as to be
able to draw up thirty deep, the English but four. A thousand speared
horsemen skirmished from each of the horns of the enemy's line, and it
appeared crowded with balistae for the projection of stones of all sizes
on Henry's little army. Henry sent a part of his force behind the
village of Agincourt, where the French had placed no men at arms. He
moved from the rear of his army, unperceived, two hundred archers, to
hide themselves in a meadow on the flank of the French advanced line. An
old and experienced knight, Sir Thomas Erpingham, formed the rest into
battle array for an attack, putting the archers in front, and the men at
arms behind. The archers had each a sharp stake pointed at both ends, to
use against the French horse. Sir Thomas having completed his formation,
threw up his truncheon in the air, and dismounted. The English began the
attack, which the French had awaited, not choosing to give the advantage
as at Poictiers; but when they saw them advance, they put themselves in
motion, and their cavalry charged; these were destroyed by the English
archers. The French, frightened by the effect of the arrows, bent their
heads to prevent them from entering the vizors of their helmets, and,
pressing forward, became so wedged together as to be unable to strike.
The archers threw back their bows, and, grasping their swords,
battle-axes, and other weapons, cut their way to the second line. At
this period the ambushed archers rushed out, and poured their impetuous
and irresistable arrows into the centre of the assailed force, which
fell in like manner with the first line. In short, every part
successively gave way, and the English had only to kill and take
prisoners."
(L) The Duke of York commanded the van guard of the English army, and
was slain in the battle.
This personage is the same who appears in Shakespeare's play of King
Richard the Second by the title of Duke of Aumerle. His Christian name
was Edward. He was the eldest son of Edmund Langley, Duke of York, who
is introduced in the same play, and who was the fifth son of King Edward
III. Richard, Earl of Cambridge, who appears in the second act of this
play, was younger brother to this Edward, Duke of York.
(M) _Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill:_] After the battle,
"there were small bodies of the French on different parts of the plain,
but they were soon routed, slain, or taken."
(N) _Enter MONTJOY._] He (the king) asked Montjoye to whom the victory
belonged, to him or to the King of France? Montjoye replied that the
victory was his, and could not be claimed by the King of France. The
king said to the French and English heralds, "It is not we who have made
this great slaughter, but the omnipotent God, as we believe, for a
punishment of the sins of the French. The king then asked the name of
the castle he saw near him. He was told it was Agincourt. Well, then,
said he, since all battles should bear the name of the fortress nearest
to the spot where they were fought, this battle shall from henceforth
bear the ever durable name of Agincourt." --_Nicolas's History of
Agincourt._
(O) _When Alencon and myself were down together._] During the battle,
the Duke of Alencon most valiantly broke through the English line, and
advanced, fighting, near to the king, insomuch that he wounded and
struck down the Duke of York. King Henry, seeing this, stepped forth to
his aid, and as he was leaning down to raise him, the Duke of Alencon
gave him a blow on the helmet that struck off part of his crown. The
king's guard on this surrounded him, when, seeing he could no way escape
death but by surrendering, he lifted up his arm, and said to the king,
"_I am the Duke of Alencon, and yield myself to you;_" but as the king
was holding out his hand to receive his pledge, he was put to death by
the guards. --_Nicolas's History of Agincourt._
(P) _Enter WARWICK and GLOSTER._] The noble Duke of Gloucester, the
king's brother, pushing himself too vigorously on his horse into the
conflict, was grievously wounded, and cast down to the earth by the
blows of the French, for whose protection the king being interested, he
bravely leapt against his enemies in defence of his brother, defended
him with his own body, and plucked and guarded him from the raging
malice of the enemy's, sustaining perils of war scarcely possible to be
borne. --_Nicolas's History of Agincourt._
(Q) _Here was a royal fellowship of death!--_] There is not much
difficulty in forming a correct estimate of the numbers of the French
slain at Agincourt, for if those writers who only state that from three
to five thousand were killed, merely meant the men-at-arms and persons
of superior rank, and which is exceedingly probable, we may at once
adopt the calculation of Monstrelet, Elmham, &c., and estimate the whole
loss on the field at from ten to eleven thousand men. It is worthy of
remark how very nearly the different statements on the subject approach
to each other, and which can only be explained by the fact that the dead
had been carefully numbered.
Among the most illustrious persons slain were the Dukes of Brabant,
Barre, and Alencon, five counts, and a still greater proportion of
distinguished knights; and the Duke of Orleans, the Count of Vendosme,
who was taken by Sir John Cornwall, the Marshall Bouciqualt, and
numerous other individuals of distinction, whose names are minutely
recorded by Monstrelet, were made prisoners. The loss of the English
army has been variously estimated. The discrepancies respecting the
number slain on the part of the victors, form a striking contrast to the
accuracy of the account of the loss of their enemies. The English
writers vary in their statements from seventeen to one hundred, whilst
the French chroniclers assert that from three hundred to sixteen hundred
individuals fell on that occasion. St. Remy and Monstrelet assert that
sixteen hundred were slain. --_Nicolas's History of Agincourt._
(R) _Do we all holy rites:_] Holinshed says, that when the king saw no
appearance of enemies, he caused the retreat to be blown, and gathering
his army together, gave thanks to Almighty God for so happy a victory,
causing his prelates and chaplains to sing this psalm--_In exitu Israel
de Egypto_; and commanding every man to kneel down on the ground at this
verse--_Non nobis domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam_; which,
done, he caused _Te Deum_ and certain anthems to be sung, giving laud
and praise to God, and not boasting of his own force, or any human
power.
_Enter CHORUS._
_Chor._ Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,
That I may prompt them.
Now we bear the king
Towards Calais: grant him there; there seen,
Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and boys,
Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea,
Which, like a mighty whiffler[1] 'fore the king
Seems to prepare his way: so let him land;
And solemnly, see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought, that even now
You may imagine him upon Blackheath.
How London doth pour out her citizens!
The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort,--
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,--
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Caesar in.
Now in London place him. There must we bring him;
Show the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
Till Harry's back-return again to France.
[_Exit._
[Footnote Vc.1: _----a mighty +whiffler+_] An officer who walks
first in processions, or before persons in high stations, on
occasions of ceremony. The name is still retained in London, and
there is an officer so called that walks before their companies at
times of publick solemnity. It seems a corruption from the French
word _huissier_. --HANMER.]
HISTORICAL EPISODE.
OLD LONDON BRIDGE
From the Surrey Side of the River.
RECEPTION OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH
On Entering London,
AFTER THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT.[*]
[Note *: Extracts of King Henry's reception into London, from
the anonymous Chronicler, who was an eye-witness of the events he
describes:--
"And when the wished-for Saturday dawned, the citizens went forth
to meet the king. * * * viz., the Mayor[{~DAGGER~}] and Aldermen in
scarlet, and the rest of the inferior citizens in red suits, with
party-coloured hoods, red and white. * * * When they had
come to the Tower at the approach to the bridge, as it were at the
entrance to the authorities to the city. * * * Banners of
the Royal arms adorned the Tower, elevated on its turrets; and
trumpets, clarions, and horns, sounded in various melody; and in
front there was this elegant and suitable inscription upon the
wall, 'Civitas Regis justicie'--('The city to the King's
righteousness.') * * * And behind the Tower were innumerable
boys, representing angels, arrayed in white, and with countenances
shining with gold, and glittering wings, and virgin locks set with
precious sprigs of laurel, who, at the King's approach, sang with
melodious voices, and with organs, an English anthem.
[[Footnote {~DAGGER~}: The Lord Mayor of London, A.D. 1415, was Nicholas
Wotton.]]
* * * * *
"A company of Prophets, of venerable hoariness, dressed in golden
coats and mantles, with their heads covered and wrapped in gold
and crimson, sang with sweet harmony, bowing to the ground,
a psalm of thanksgiving.
* * * * *
"Beneath the covering were the twelve kings, martyrs and
confessors of the succession of England, their loins girded with
golden girdles, sceptres in their hands, and crowns on their
heads, who chaunted with one accord at the King's approach in a
sweet tune.
* * * * *
"And they sent forth upon him round leaves of silver mixed with
wafers, equally thin and round. And there proceeded out to meet
the King a chorus of most beautiful virgin girls, elegantly
attired in white, singing with timbrol and dance; and then
innumerable boys, as it were an angelic multitude, decked with
celestial gracefulness, white apparel, shining feathers, virgin
locks, studded with gems and other resplendent and most elegant
array, who sent forth upon the head of the King passing beneath
minae of gold, with bows of laurel; round about angels shone with
celestial gracefulness, chaunting sweetly, and with all sorts of
music.
"And besides the pressure in the standing places, and of men
crowding through the streets, and the multitude of both sexes
along the way from the bridge, from one end to the other, that
scarcely the horsemen could ride through them. A greater assembly,
or a nobler spectacle, was not recollected to have been ever
before in London."]
ACT V.
SCENE I.--FRANCE IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF TROYES.
_Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER, L.H._
_Gow._ Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today? Saint Davy's
day is past.
_Flu._ There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things:
I will tell you, as my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald,
beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol,--he is come to me, and prings
me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek: it was in
a place where I could not preed 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, R.H._
_Gow._ Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
_Flu._ 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.--Heaven
pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, Heaven pless you!
_Pist._ Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?[1]
Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
[_Crosses to L.H._
_Flu._ I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsy knave, at my desires, and
my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because,
look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites,
and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to
eat it.
_Pist._ (_crosses to R.H._) Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
_Flu._ There is one goat for you.
[_Strikes him._
Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it?
_Pist._ Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
_Flu._ You say very true, scald knave, when Heaven's will is: I will
desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: come, there
is sauce for it. (_Striking him again._) You called me yesterday
mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree.[2]
I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
_Gow._ Enough, captain: you have astonished him.[3]
_Flu._ I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat
his pate four days.--Pite, I pray you; it is goot for you.
_Pist._ Must I bite?
_Flu._ Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of questions too, and
ambiguities.
_Pist._ By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat, and eke I
swear----
_Flu._ Eat, I pray you: Will you have some more sauce to your leek?
there is not enough leek to swear by.
_Pist._ Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.
_Flu._ Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray you, throw
none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take
occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them; that is all.
_Pist._ Good.
_Flu._ Ay, leeks is goot:--Hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.
_Pist._ Me a groat!
_Flu._ Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another
leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.
_Pist._ I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
_Flu._ If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels. Heaven be wi'
you, and keep you, and heal your pate.
[_Exit L.H._
_Pist._ (_crosses to L.H.) All hell shall stir for this.
[_Crosses to R.H._
_Gow._ Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an
ancient tradition,--begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a
memorable trophy of predeceased valour,--and dare not avouch in your
deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking[4] 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 it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction
teach you a good English condition.[5] Fare ye well.
[_Exit, L.H._
_Pist._ Doth fortune play the huswife[6] with me now?
Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
Honour is cudgell'd.
To England will I steal:
And patches will I get unto these scars,
And swear, I got them in the Gallia wars.
[_Exit, R.H._
[Footnote V.1: _To have me fold up, &c._] Dost thou desire to have
me put thee to death.]
[Footnote V.2: _----a squire of low degree._] That is, _I will
bring thee to the ground._]
[Footnote V.3: _----astonished him._] That is, you have stunned
him with the blow.]
SCENE II.--INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL AT TROYES IN CHAMPAGNE.
_Trumpets sound. Enter, at one door, U.E.L.H., KING HENRY,(A)
BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other Lords;
at another, U.E.R.H., the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the PRINCESS
KATHARINE,[7](B) Lords, Ladies, &c., the Duke of BURGUNDY, and
his Train. The two parties, French and English, are divided by
barriers._
_K. Hen._ (L.C.) Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met![8]
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 Katharine;
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!
[_All the French party bow to KING HENRY._
_Fr. King._ (R.C.) Right joyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England; fairly met:--
So are you, princes English, every one.
_Q. Isa._ (_R. of F. KING._) 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 borne in them
Against the French, that met them in their bent,
The fatal balls of murdering basilisks:[9]
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. Hen._ To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
_Q.Isa._ You English princes all, I do salute you.
[_All the English party bow to QUEEN ISABELLA._
_Bur._ (R.) My duty to you both, on equal love,
Great kings of France and England!
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?
_K. Hen._ If, duke of Burgundy, you would the peace,
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.
_Fr. King._ I have but with a cursorary eye
O'er-glanc'd 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.[10]
_K. Hen._ Brother, we shall.--Go, uncle Exeter,--
And brother Bedford,--and you, brother Gloster,--
Warwick,--and Huntingdon,--go with the king;
And take with you free power, to ratify,
Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best
Shall see advantageable for our dignity,
And we'll consign thereto.--
[_Barriers removed. The English Lords, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOSTER,
WARWICK, and HUNTINGDON, cross to the KING OF FRANCE, and exeunt
afterwards with him._
Will you, fair sister,
Go with the princes, or stay here with us?
_Q. Isa._ Our gracious brother, I will go with them:
Haply a woman's voice may do some good,
When articles too nicely urg'd be stood on.
_K. Hen._ Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us:
She is our capital demand, compris'd
Within the fore rank of our articles.
_Q. Isa._ She hath good leave.
[_Trumpets sound._
[_Exeunt all through gates, L.E.R. and L., but HENRY, KATHARINE,
and her Gentlewomen._
_K. Hen._ (L.C.) Fair Katharine, and most fair!
Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms,
Such as will enter at a lady's ear,
And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
_Kath._ (R.C.) Votre majeste shall mock at me; I cannot speak votre
Anglais.
_K. Hen._ O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French
heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English
tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
_Kath._ _Pardonnez moi,_ I cannot tell vat is--like me.
_K. Hen._ An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
_Kath._ _Que dit-il? que je suis semblable aux anges?_
_K. Hen._ I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it.
_Kath._ _O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperies._
_K. Hen._ What say you, fair one?
_Kath._ Dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits.
_K. Hen._ I'faith, Kate. I know no ways to mince it in love, but
directly to say--I love you: then, if you urge me further than to
say--Do you in faith? I wear out my suit. Give me your answer; i'faith,
do; and so clap hands and a bargain: How say you, lady?
_Kath._ Me understand well.
_K. Hen._ Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for your
sake, Kate, why you undid me. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by
vaulting into my saddle with my armour on my back, under the correction
of bragging, be it spoken, I should quickly leap into a wife. But,
before Heaven, I cannot look greenly,[11] nor gasp out my eloquence, nor
I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never
use till urged, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow
of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, that never
looks in his glass for love of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be
thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst love me for this,
take me; if not, to say to thee--that I shall die, is true, but--for thy
love, by the lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou livest, dear
Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy;[12] for a good leg
will fall;[13] a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn
white; a curled pate will grow bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye
will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and moon; or,
rather, the sun, and not the moon, for it shines bright, and never
changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take
me: And take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: And what
sayest thou, then, to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
_Kath._ Est il possible dat I should love de enemy de la France?
_K. Hen._ No; it is not possible you should love the enemy of France,
Kate: but, in loving me, you should love the friend of France; for I
love France so well, that I will not part with a village of it; I will
have it all mine: and, Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours, then
yours is France, and you are mine.
_Kath._ Vat is dat?
_K. Hen._ Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou
love me?
_Kath._ I cannot tell.
_K. Hen._ Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come,
I know thou lovest me: and at night, when you come into your closet,
you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
her dispraise those parts in me that you love with your heart. If ever
thou be'st mine, Kate, (as I have a saving faith within me, tells
me,--thou shalt,) shall there not be a boy compounded between Saint
Dennis and Saint George, half French, half English, that shall go to
Constantinople[14] and take the Turk by the beard? shall he not? what
sayest thou, my fair flower-de-luce? How answer you, _la plus belle
Katharine du monde, mon tres chere et divine deesse?_
_Kath._ _Votre majeste_ 'ave _fausse_ French enough to deceive _la plus
sage damoiselle_ dat is _en France._
_K. Hen._ Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in true
English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I dare not swear thou lovest
me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding
the poor and untempting effect of my visage. But, in faith, Kate, the
elder I wax, the better I shall appear: my comfort is, that old age,
that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face: thou
hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou
wear me, better and better: And therefore tell me, most fair Katharine,
will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of
your heart with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and
say--Harry of England, I am thine: which word thou shalt no sooner bless
mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud--England is thine, Ireland
is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, though I
speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou
shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken
musick, for thy voice is musick, and thy English broken; therefore,
queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English, Wilt
thou have me?
_Kath._ Dat is as it shall please _le roi mon pere_.
_K. Hen._ Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.
_Kath._ Den it shall also content me.
_K. Hen._ Upon that I will kiss your hand, and I call you--my queen.
_Kath._ _Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez._
_K. Hen._ Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
_Kath._ Dat is not be de fashion _pour les_ dames _de la_ France.
_K. Hen._ O Kate, nice customs curt'sy to great kings. We are the makers
of manners, Kate; therefore, patiently, and yielding. (_Kisses her._)
You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a
sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they
should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of
monarchs. (_Trumpets sound._) Here comes your father.
[_The centre gates are thrown open, and_
_Re-enter the FRENCH KING and QUEEN, BURGUNDY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER,
EXETER, WESTMORELAND. The other French and English Lords as
before, U.E.R. and L._
_Bur._ (R.) My royal cousin, teach you our princess English?
_K. Hen._ (C.) I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I
love her; and that is good English.
_Bur._ Is she not apt?
_K. Hen._ Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not smooth;[15]
so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me,
I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in
his true likeness. Shall Kate be my wife?
_Fr. King._ (L.C.) So please you.
_Exe._ The king hath granted every article:
His daughter, first; and then, in sequel, all,
According to their firm proposed natures.
_Fr. King._ Take her, fair son;
That the contending kingdoms
Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
With envy of each other's happiness,
May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood and christian-like accord
In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
_K. Hen._ Now, welcome, Kate:--and bear me witness all,
That here I take her as my sovereign queen.
[_The KING places a ring on KATHARINE'S finger._
Prepare we for our marriage:--on which day,
My lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath,
And all the peers', for surety of our leagues.--
Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me;
And may our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be!(C)
[_Flourish of Trumpets. Curtain descends._
[Footnote V.4: _----gleeking_] i.e., scoffing, sneering. _Gleek_
was a game at cards.]
[Footnote V.5: _----English +condition+._] _Condition_ is temper,
disposition of mind.]
[Footnote V.6: _----Doth fortune play the +huswife+_] That is, the
_jilt_.]
[Footnote V.7: The dresses of Queen Isabella, her ladies, and the
Princess Katharine, are taken from Montfaucon Monarchie
Francoise.]
[Footnote V.8: _----wherefore we are met!_] i.e., Peace, for which
we are here met, be to this meeting.]
[Footnote V.9: _The fatal balls of murdering basilisks:_] It was
anciently supposed that this serpent could destroy the object of
its vengeance by merely looking at it.]
[Footnote V.10:
_----we will, suddenly,
Pass our accept, and peremptory answer._]
i.e., our answer shall be such as to leave no room for further
questioning in the matter. "_We will peremptorily make answer._"]
[Footnote V.11: _----look +greenly+,_] i.e., like a young lover,
awkwardly.]
[Footnote V.12: _----take a good fellow of plain and +uncoined+
constancy;_] _Uncoined_ constancy signifies _real_ and _true_
constancy, _unrefined_ and _unadorned_.]
[Footnote V.13: _----a good leg will fall,_] i.e., shrink--fall
away.]
[Footnote V.14: _----shall go to Constantinople_] Shakespeare has
here committed an anachronism. The Turks were not possessed of
Constantinople before the year 1463, when Henry the Fifth had been
dead thirty-one years.]
[Footnote V.15: _----my +condition+ is not smooth;_] i.e.,
manners, appearance.]
THE END.
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT FIFTH.
(A) _Enter_ KING HENRY,] At this interview, which is described as taking
place in the Church of Notre Dame, at Troyes, King Henry was attired in
his armour, and accompanied by sixteen hundred warriors. Henry is
related to have placed a ring of "inestimable value" on the finger of
Katharine, "supposed to be the same worn by our English queen-consorts
at their coronation," at the moment when he received the promise of the
princess.
(B) _The PRINCESS KATHARINE_,] Katharine of Valois was the youngest
child of Charles VI., King of France, and his Queen, Isabella of
Bavaria. She was born in Paris, October 27th, 1401. Monstrelet relates,
that on Trinity Sunday, June 3rd, the King of England wedded the lady
Katharine in the church at Troyes, and that great pomp and magnificence
were displayed by him and his princess, as if he had been king of the
whole world. Katharine was crowned Queen of England February 24, 1421;
and shortly after the death of her heroic husband, which event took
place August 31st, 1422, the queen married a Welch gentleman of the name
of Owen Tudor, by whom she had three sons and one daughter. The eldest
son, Edmund, married Margaret Beaufort, the heiress of the house of
Somerset. His half-brother, Henry VI., created him Earl of Richmond. He
died before he reached twenty years of age, leaving an infant son,
afterwards Henry VII., the first king of the Tudor line. Katharine died
January 3rd, 1437, in the thirty-sixth year of her age, and was buried
at Westminster Abbey.
(C) _----may our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be;_] The principal
articles of the treaty were, that Henry should espouse the Princess
Catherine: That King Charles, during his life time, should enjoy the
title and dignity of King of France: That Henry should be declared and
acknowledged heir of the monarchy, and be entrusted with the present
administration of the government: That that kingdom should pass to his
heirs general: That France and England should for ever be united under
one king; but should still retain their several usages, customs, and
privileges: That all the princes, peers, vassals, and communities of
France, should swear, that they would both adhere to the future
succession of Henry, and pay him present obedience as regent: That this
prince should unite his arms to those of King Charles and the Duke of
Burgundy, in order to subdue the adherents of Charles, the pretended
dauphin; and that these three princes should make no peace or truce with
him but by common consent and agreement. Such was the tenour of this
famous treaty; a treaty which, as nothing but the most violent animosity
could dictate it, so nothing but the power of the sword could carry it
into execution. It is hard to say whether its consequences, had it taken
effect, would have proved more pernicious to England or France. It must
have reduced the former kingdom to the rank of a province: It would have
entirely disjointed the succession of the latter, and have brought on
the destruction of the royal family; as the houses of Orleans, Anjou,
Alencon, Britanny, Bourbon, and of Burgundy itself, whose titles were
preferable to that of the English princes, would, on that account, have
been exposed to perpetual jealousy and persecution from the sovereign.
There was even a palpable deficiency in Henry's claim, which no art
could palliate. For, besides the insuperable objections to which Edward
the Third's pretensions were exposed, _he_ was not heir to that monarch:
If female succession were admitted, the right had devolved on the house
of Mortimer: Allowing that Richard the Second was a tyrant, and that
Henry the Fourth's merits in deposing him were so great towards the
English, as to justify that nation in placing him on the throne, Richard
had nowise offended France, and his rival had merited nothing of that
kingdom: It could not possibly be pretended that the crown of France was
become an appendage to that of England; and that a prince who by any
means got possession of the latter, was, without farther question,
entitled to the former. So that, on the whole, it must be allowed that
Henry's claim to France was, if possible, still more unintelligible than
the title by which his father had mounted the throne of England.
--_Hume's History of England._
JOHN K. CHAPMAN AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, 5, SHOE LANE,
AND PETERBOROUGH COURT, FLEET STREET.
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
Errata Noted by Transcriber
a paean of victory [poean]
within this wooden O [wooden, O]
suppose every man to represent [first "r" in "represent" invisible]
[Historical Notes to Act II]
[endnote labeling, with (A) reused, unchanged]
Lewis, Dovphin of Viennois [spelling unchanged]
should not raise the seige [spelling unchanged]
... had played the Englishmen at dice." [missing close quote]]
I remember him now. [; for .]
_Non nobis domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo_ [_seel nomini_]
yet I love thee too [I I love thee]
Scenes
_Correspondences are approximate; all Scenes have been significantly
edited. Chorus speeches are fairly close to their original form._
Kean edition (this text): Shakespeare
I.1 : I.2
I.2 : II.3, with Boy's speech from III.2
II.1 : II.2
II.2 : II.4
III (unnumbered scene after Chorus) : III.1
III.1 : III.5
III.2 : III.6
IV (unnumbered scene interrupting Chorus) : III.7
IV.1 : IV.1
IV.2 : IV.2
IV.3 : IV.3
IV.4 : IV.5
IV.5 : IV.6 and IV.7 (intermingled)
IV.6 : IV.8
Interlude added by Kean : _no equivalent_
V.1 : V.1
V.2 : V.2
_Shakespeare's Epilogue (spoken by Chorus) is absent._
End of Project Gutenberg's King Henry the Fifth, by William Shakespeare