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No. 6 - Finale Act I

MIDI File

Judson: Sir, you wear a sword!
A duel you can't refuse it.
Buckingham: A chance this doth afford,
To prove it you can use it.
Brandon: Oh! yes a sword I wear, stained by no duels shady,
Till life shall end I will defend the honor of a lady.
En garde!
Chorus: En garde!
Brandon: En garde!
Chorus: En garde! En garde!
Swords are flashing, cutting, slashing,
hear the ring of steel!
Now my lord with thrust and parry,
Make the foeman reel.
Nerves are steady, keen and ready,
Let the duel begin.
Fight him fairly, fight him squarely,
May the best man win!
What will he do? What will he say?
Someone shall rue this duel today.
The King, the King, the King!
King Henry: Oh! I am Bluff King Hal!
A mighty monarch I.
I'm gruff and I'm grim and it's woe to him
Who would my will defy.
I'm ready for a battle, a bottle or a gal,
Oh! a paragon of potentates is Bluff King Hal!
Chorus: Your Majesty!
King: What means, I say, this strange affray?
My anger it is fueling!
Who dares forget all etiquette,
And laws against all dueling?
Who e'er it be shall rue the day
And meet retaliation,
Of each and all I now demand
At once an explanation.
Reply! Reply! who doth my law defy?
Buckingham: Thy royal liege, I beg you list,
Ere you impose the prison fetter,
The cause of this, if you insist,
You'll find, Sir, if you read this letter.
Brandon: Traitor! Defamer!
The princess would you shame her?
King: Silence understand!
This is your King's command!
Chorus: It is our King's command!
   
Princess: The man I choose to marry
May be Tom or Dick or Harry,
Providing he's a young and handsome chap.
Chorus: A handsome chap!
Princess: The main thing, I must like him,
Perhaps one day I'll strike him,
For rank and gold I do not care a rap!
Chorus: For rank she does not care a rap!
Princess: He may think me far above him,
But I'll gently hint I love him,
Our honeymoon shall be a dream divine.
Chorus: A dream divine;
Princess: The King of France rheumatic,
I say with vim emphatic,
Is not a husband strictly in my line.
If I marry the King of France,
I'll certainly lead him a dance,
He'll have to be skittish,
He'll have to be gay,
He'll have to throw doctors and crutches away.
Youth ever must have its fling,
And I will have mine at the King,
Some high old times in France there'll be
If I marry his doddering Majestee!
Chorus: Youth ever must have its fling,
And she will have hers at the King,
Some high old times in France there'll be
If she marries his doddering Majestee.
   
Princess: This ancient King is fragile
And very far from agile,
He'll have to hurry to catch up with me.
Chorus: That can not be!
Princess: I'll keep him good and busy,
Till his poor brain is dizzy.
He'll send me home in two days, you shall see!
Chorus: She's home in two days, you shall see!
Princess: As I shall need diverting,
I'll do a lot of flirting,
I'll pick out all the worst roués at court;
Chorus: Roués at court;
Princess: I'll be so gay and giddy,
He'll make me soon a widdy,
And widows seem to have most all the sport.
If I marry the King of France,
I'll certainly lead him a dance,
He'll have to be skittish,
He'll have to be gay,
He'll have to throw doctors and crutches away.
Youth ever must have its fling,
And I will have mine at the King,
Some high old times in France there'll be
If I marry his doddering Majestee!
Chorus: Youth ever must have its fling,
And she will have hers at the King,
Some high old times in France there'll be
If she marries his doddering Majestee.
   
King Henry: Let ships be prepared
To carry her to France, be ready all!
Chorus: Be ready all!
King Henry: Let a good ship be made ready,
With a crew and captain steady,
We'll cure our sister's petulance
By sending her to France.
Then we shall live in Clover,
So up away to Dover and straight set sail,
With a fav'ring gale to cross the channel o'er.
Principals: It's ho! Yo ho! for a rolling sea,
With the billows tossing high!
Princess: A terrible fate will await for me,
To my love I say good-bye;
I'll save you I swear from the prison cell,
So be cheerful I'm waiting a chance,
And fear not for me, for I ne'er shall be
The bride of the King of France.
Chorus: It's ho! Yo ho! for a rolling sea,
With the billows tossing high!
It's ho! Yo ho! When the wind blows free,
And the clouds are black on high.
It's little will care the bold ship's crew,
they'll be proud indeed for the chance
To carry the English Princess May
To marry the King of France.
Princess: Fear not, I'll save you,
I shall find a way,
Whatsoever betide you,
Trust me, I pray!
Both: Though time and distance may our lives divide,
Brandon: To you I will be true, my Queen, my bride.
Chorus: 'Tis time for parting,
To go over sea,
Hearts the truest and dearest oft are not free;
Though time and distance may their lives divide,
Fond hearts ever are true, what e'er betide.
What e'er betide, what e'er betide!

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