O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend

The brightest heaven of invention,

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,

And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,

Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels,

Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire

Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,

The flat unraised spirits that hath dar’d

On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth

So great an object. Can this cockpit hold

The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram

Within this wooden O the very casques

That did affright the air at Agincourt?

O pardon! since a crooked figure may

Attest in little place a million,

And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,

On your imaginary forces work.

Suppose within the girdle of these walls

Are now confin’d two mighty monarchies,

Whose high upreared and abutting fronts

The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder;

Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.

Into a thousand parts divide one man,

And make imaginary puissance.

Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them

Printing their proud hoofs i’ th’ receiving earth.

For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,

Carry them here and there, jumping o’er times,

Turning the accomplishment of many years

Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,

Admit me Chorus to this history;

Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,

Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

My lord, I’ll tell you, that self bill is urg’d

Which in the eleventh year of the last king’s reign

Was like, and had indeed against us passed

But that the scambling and unquiet time

Did push it out of farther question.

But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?

It must be thought on. If it pass against us,

We lose the better half of our possession:

For all the temporal lands, which men devout

By testament have given to the Church,

Would they strip from us; being valu’d thus:

As much as would maintain, to the King’s honour,

Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,

Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;

And, to relief of lazars and weak age,

Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil,

A hundred almshouses right well supplied;

And to the coffers of the King beside,

A thousand pounds by th’ year. Thus runs the bill.

This would drink deep.

’Twould drink the cup and all.

But what prevention?

The King is full of grace and fair regard.

And a true lover of the holy Church.

The courses of his youth promis’d it not.

The breath no sooner left his father’s body

But that his wildness, mortified in him,

Seemed to die too; yea, at that very moment

Consideration like an angel came

And whipped th’ offending Adam out of him,

Leaving his body as a paradise

T’ envelope and contain celestial spirits.

Never was such a sudden scholar made,

Never came reformation in a flood

With such a heady currance scouring faults,

Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,

As in this king.

We are blessed in the change.

Hear him but reason in divinity

And, all-admiring, with an inward wish

You would desire the King were made a prelate;

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,

You would say it hath been all in all his study;

List his discourse of war, and you shall hear

A fearful battle rendered you in music;

Turn him to any cause of policy,

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,

Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,

The air, a chartered libertine, is still,

And the mute wonder lurketh in men’s ears

To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences;

So that the art and practic part of life

Must be the mistress to this theoric:

Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it,

Since his addiction was to courses vain,

His companies unlettered, rude, and shallow,

His hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports,

And never noted in him any study,

Any retirement, any sequestration

From open haunts and popularity.

The strawberry grows underneath the nettle,

And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best

Neighboured by fruit of baser quality;

And so the Prince obscured his contemplation

Under the veil of wildness, which, no doubt,

Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,

Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

It must be so, for miracles are ceased,

And therefore we must needs admit the means

How things are perfected.

But, my good lord,

How now for mitigation of this bill

Urged by the Commons? Doth his Majesty

Incline to it, or no?

He seems indifferent,

Or rather swaying more upon our part

Than cherishing th’ exhibitors against us;

For I have made an offer to his Majesty,

Upon our spiritual convocation

And in regard of causes now in hand,

Which I have opened to his Grace at large,

As touching France, to give a greater sum

Than ever at one time the clergy yet

Did to his predecessors part withal.

How did this offer seem received, my lord?

With good acceptance of his Majesty;

Save that there was not time enough to hear,

As I perceived his Grace would fain have done,

The severals and unhidden passages

Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms,

And generally to the crown and seat of France,

Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather.

What was th’ impediment that broke this off?

The French ambassador upon that instant

Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come

To give him hearing. Is it four o’clock?

It is.

Then go we in, to know his embassy,

Which I could with a ready guess declare

Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.

I’ll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.