K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
Kath. Il n'est pas la coutume de France.
K. Hen. Madam my interpreter, what says she?
Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France—I can not tell vat is baiser en Anglish.
K. Hen. To kiss.
Alice. Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.
K. Hen. It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would you say?
Alice. Oui, vraiment.
K. Hen. O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I can not be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss; therefore, patiently and yielding. (Kisses her.) You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.