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King Henry: Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate; by which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me. Yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. Now beshrew my father’s ambition! He was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo ladies I fright them. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear [. . .] And therefore tell me, most fair Katherine, will you have me? [. . .] Take me by the hand, and say “Harry of England, I am thine”. Which word thou shalt no sooner bless my ear withal but I will tell thee aloud “England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine.” [. . .] Come, your answer in broken music, for thy voice is music, and thy English broken. Therefore, Queen of all, Katherine [. . .] Wilt thou have me?