How you awake our sleeping sword of war;

We charge you in the name of God take heed.

For never two such kingdoms did contend

Without much fall of blood, whose guiltless drops

Are every one a woe, a sore complaint

’Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords

That makes such waste in brief mortality.

Under this conjuration speak, my lord,

For we will hear, note, and believe in heart

That what you speak is in your conscience washed

As pure as sin with baptism.

CANTERBURY

Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers

That owe your selves, your lives, and services

To this imperial throne. There is no bar

To make against your highness’ claim to France

But this, which they produce from Pharamond:

‘In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant’—

’No woman shall succeed in Salic land’—

Which ‘Salic land’ the French unjustly gloss

To be the realm of France, and Pharamond

The founder of this law and female bar.

Yet their own authors faithfully affirm

That the land Salic is in Germany,

Between the floods of Saale and of Elbe,

Where, Charles the Great having subdued the Saxons,

There left behind and settled certain French

Who, holding in disdain the German women

For some dishonest manners of their life,

Established there this law: to wit, no female

Should be inheritrix in Salic land—

Which Salic, as I said, ’twixt Elbe and Saale,

Is at this day in Germany called Meissen.

Then doth it well appear the Salic Law

Was not devised for the realm of France.

Nor did the French possess the Salic land

Until four hundred one-and-twenty years

After defunction of King Pharamond,

Idly supposed the founder of this law,

Who died within the year of our redemption

Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great

Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French

Beyond the river Saale, in the year

Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,

King Pépin, which deposed Childéric,

Did, as heir general—being descended

Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clotaire—

Make claim and title to the crown of France.

Hugh Capet also—who usurped the crown

Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male

Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great—

To fine his title with some shows of truth,

Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught,

Conveyed himself as heir to th’ Lady Lingard,

Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son

To Louis the Emperor, and Louis the son

Of Charles the Great. Also, King Louis the Ninth,

Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,

Could not keep quiet in his conscience,

Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied

That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,

Was lineal of the Lady Ermengarde,

Daughter to Charles, the foresaid Duke of Lorraine;

By the which marriage, the line of Charles the Great

Was reunited to the crown of France.

So that, as clear as is the summer’s sun,

King Pépin’s title and Hugh Capet’s claim,

King Louis his satisfaction, all appear

To hold in right and title of the female;

So do the kings of France unto this day,

Howbeit they would hold up this Salic Law

To bar your highness claiming from the female,

And rather choose to hide them in a net

Than amply to embar their crooked titles,

Usurped from you and your progenitors.

KING HARRY

May I with right and conscience make this claim?

CANTERBURY

The sin upon my head, dread sovereign.

For in the Book of Numbers is it writ,

‘When the son dies, let the inheritance

Descend unto the daughter.’ Gracious lord,

Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag;

Look back into your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb,

From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,

And your great-uncle’s, Edward the Black Prince,

Who on the French ground played a tragedy,

Making defeat on the full power of France,

Whiles his most mighty father on a hill

Stood smiling to behold his lion’s whelp

Forage in blood of French nobility. no

O noble English, that could entertain

With half their forces the full pride of France,

And let another half stand laughing by,

All out of work, and cold for action.

ELY

Awake remembrance of those valiant dead,

And with your puissant arm renew their feats.

You are their heir, you sit upon their throne,

The blood and courage that renowned them

Runs in your veins—and my thrice-puissant liege