The Life of King Henry the Fifth. Уильям Шекспир

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          Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.

          In answer of which claim, the Prince our master

          Says that you savour too much of your youth,

          And bids you be advis'd there's nought in France

          That can be with a nimble galliard won;

          You cannot revel into dukedoms there.

          He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,

          This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,

          Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim

          Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.

        KING HENRY. What treasure, uncle?

        EXETER. Tennis-balls, my liege.

        KING HENRY. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;

          His present and your pains we thank you for.

          When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,

          We will in France, by God's grace, play a set

          Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.

          Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler

          That all the courts of France will be disturb'd

          With chaces. And we understand him well,

          How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,

          Not measuring what use we made of them.

          We never valu'd this poor seat of England;

          And therefore, living hence, did give ourself

          To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common

          That men are merriest when they are from home.

          But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state,

          Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness,

          When I do rouse me in my throne of France;

          For that I have laid by my majesty

          And plodded like a man for working-days;

          But I will rise there with so full a glory

          That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,

          Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.

          And tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his

          Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones, and his soul

          Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance

          That shall fly with them; for many a thousand widows

          Shall this his mock mock of their dear husbands;

          Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;

          And some are yet ungotten and unborn

          That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn.

          But this lies all within the will of God,

          To whom I do appeal; and in whose name,

          Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,

          To venge me as I may and to put forth

          My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.

          So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin

          His jest will savour but of shallow wit,

          When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.

          Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.

      ACT II. PROLOGUE

      Flourish. Enter CHORUS