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diff --git a/1765-0.txt b/1765-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab2fb5e --- /dev/null +++ b/1765-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3754 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Henry VI, Part 1, by William Shakespeare + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Henry VI, Part 1 + +Author: William Shakespeare + +Release Date: June, 1999 [eBook #1765] + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HENRY VI, PART 1 *** + + + + +******************************************************************* +THIS EBOOK WAS ONE OF PROJECT GUTENBERG'S EARLY FILES PRODUCED AT A +TIME WHEN PROOFING METHODS AND TOOLS WERE NOT WELL DEVELOPED. THERE +IS AN IMPROVED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY BE VIEWED AS EBOOK +(#100) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/100 +******************************************************************* + + + + +1592 + +THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH + +by William Shakespeare + + +Dramatis Personae + + KING HENRY THE SIXTH + DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to the King, and Protector + DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent of France + THOMAS BEAUFORT, DUKE OF EXETER, great-uncle to the king + HENRY BEAUFORT, great-uncle to the King, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, + and afterwards CARDINAL + JOHN BEAUFORT, EARL OF SOMERSET, afterwards Duke + RICHARD PLANTAGENET, son of Richard late Earl of Cambridge, + afterwards DUKE OF YORK + EARL OF WARWICK + EARL OF SALISBURY + EARL OF SUFFOLK + LORD TALBOT, afterwards EARL OF SHREWSBURY + JOHN TALBOT, his son + EDMUND MORTIMER, EARL OF MARCH + SIR JOHN FASTOLFE + SIR WILLIAM LUCY + SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE + SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE + MAYOR of LONDON + WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower + VERNON, of the White Rose or York faction + BASSET, of the Red Rose or Lancaster faction + A LAWYER + GAOLERS, to Mortimer + CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France + REIGNIER, DUKE OF ANJOU, and titular King of Naples + DUKE OF BURGUNDY + DUKE OF ALENCON + BASTARD OF ORLEANS + GOVERNOR OF PARIS + MASTER-GUNNER OF ORLEANS, and his SON + GENERAL OF THE FRENCH FORCES in Bordeaux + A FRENCH SERGEANT + A PORTER + AN OLD SHEPHERD, father to Joan la Pucelle + MARGARET, daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to + King Henry + COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE + JOAN LA PUCELLE, Commonly called JOAN OF ARC + + Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, + Messengers, English and French Attendants. Fiends appearing + to La Pucelle + + + + +SCENE: +England and France + + + + +The First Part of King Henry the Sixth + + +ACT I. SCENE 1. + +Westminster Abbey + +Dead March. Enter the funeral of KING HENRY THE FIFTH, +attended on by the DUKE OF BEDFORD, Regent of France, +the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, Protector, the DUKE OF EXETER, +the EARL OF WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER + + BEDFORD. Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to + night! Comets, importing change of times and states, + Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky + And with them scourge the bad revolting stars + That have consented unto Henry's death! + King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! + England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + GLOUCESTER. England ne'er had a king until his time. + Virtue he had, deserving to command; + His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams; + His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; + His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire, + More dazzled and drove back his enemies + Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. + What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech: + He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + EXETER. We mourn in black; why mourn we not in blood? + Henry is dead and never shall revive. + Upon a wooden coffin we attend; + And death's dishonourable victory + We with our stately presence glorify, + Like captives bound to a triumphant car. + What! shall we curse the planets of mishap + That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? + Or shall we think the subtle-witted French + Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him, + By magic verses have contriv'd his end? + WINCHESTER. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings; + Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day + So dreadful will not be as was his sight. + The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought; + The Church's prayers made him so prosperous. + GLOUCESTER. The Church! Where is it? Had not churchmen + pray'd, + His thread of life had not so soon decay'd. + None do you like but an effeminate prince, + Whom like a school-boy you may overawe. + WINCHESTER. Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art + Protector + And lookest to command the Prince and realm. + Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe + More than God or religious churchmen may. + GLOUCESTER. Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh; + And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st, + Except it be to pray against thy foes. + BEDFORD. Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace; + Let's to the altar. Heralds, wait on us. + Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms, + Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead. + Posterity, await for wretched years, + When at their mothers' moist'ned eyes babes shall suck, + Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, + And none but women left to wail the dead. + Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: + Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, + Combat with adverse planets in the heavens. + A far more glorious star thy soul will make + Than Julius Caesar or bright + + Enter a MESSENGER + + MESSENGER. My honourable lords, health to you all! + Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, + Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture: + Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, + Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + BEDFORD. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? + Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns + Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + GLOUCESTER. Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up? + If Henry were recall'd to life again, + These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + EXETER. How were they lost? What treachery was us'd? + MESSENGER. No treachery, but want of men and money. + Amongst the soldiers this is muttered + That here you maintain several factions; + And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, + You are disputing of your generals: + One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost; + Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; + A third thinks, without expense at all, + By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. + Awake, awake, English nobility! + Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot. + Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; + Of England's coat one half is cut away. + EXETER. Were our tears wanting to this funeral, + These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + BEDFORD. Me they concern; Regent I am of France. + Give me my steeled coat; I'll fight for France. + Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! + Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, + To weep their intermissive miseries. + + Enter a second MESSENGER + + SECOND MESSENGER. Lords, view these letters full of bad + mischance. + France is revolted from the English quite, + Except some petty towns of no import. + The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims; + The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; + Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; + The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + EXETER. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! + O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + GLOUCESTER. We will not fly but to our enemies' throats. + Bedford, if thou be slack I'll fight it out. + BEDFORD. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? + An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, + Wherewith already France is overrun. + + Enter a third MESSENGER + + THIRD MESSENGER. My gracious lords, to add to your + laments, + Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, + I must inform you of a dismal fight + Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. + WINCHESTER. What! Wherein Talbot overcame? Is't so? + THIRD MESSENGER. O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was + o'erthrown. + The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. + The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, + Retiring from the siege of Orleans, + Having full scarce six thousand in his troop, + By three and twenty thousand of the French + Was round encompassed and set upon. + No leisure had he to enrank his men; + He wanted pikes to set before his archers; + Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges + They pitched in the ground confusedly + To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. + More than three hours the fight continued; + Where valiant Talbot, above human thought, + Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: + Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; + Here, there, and everywhere, enrag'd he slew + The French exclaim'd the devil was in arms; + All the whole army stood agaz'd on him. + His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit, + 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' cried out amain, + And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. + Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up + If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward. + He, being in the vaward plac'd behind + With purpose to relieve and follow them- + Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke; + Hence grew the general wreck and massacre. + Enclosed were they with their enemies. + A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, + Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back; + Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength, + Durst not presume to look once in the face. + BEDFORD. Is Talbot slain? Then I will slay myself, + For living idly here in pomp and ease, + Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, + Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + THIRD MESSENGER. O no, he lives, but is took prisoner, + And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford; + Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + BEDFORD. His ransom there is none but I shall pay. + I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne; + His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; + Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. + Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; + Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make + To keep our great Saint George's feast withal. + Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, + Whose bloody deeds shall make an Europe quake. + THIRD MESSENGER. So you had need; for Orleans is besieg'd; + The English army is grown weak and faint; + The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply + And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, + Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + EXETER. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, + Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, + Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + BEDFORD. I do remember it, and here take my leave + To go about my preparation. Exit + GLOUCESTER. I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can + To view th' artillery and munition; + And then I will proclaim young Henry king. Exit + EXETER. To Eltham will I, where the young King is, + Being ordain'd his special governor; + And for his safety there I'll best devise. Exit + WINCHESTER. [Aside] Each hath his place and function to + attend: + I am left out; for me nothing remains. + But long I will not be Jack out of office. + The King from Eltham I intend to steal, + And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 2. + + France. Before Orleans + + Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES THE DAUPHIN, ALENCON, + and REIGNIER, marching with drum and soldiers + + CHARLES. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens + So in the earth, to this day is not known. + Late did he shine upon the English side; + Now we are victors, upon us he smiles. + What towns of any moment but we have? + At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; + Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, + Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + ALENCON. They want their porridge and their fat bull + beeves. + Either they must be dieted like mules + And have their provender tied to their mouths, + Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + REIGNIER. Let's raise the siege. Why live we idly here? + Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear; + Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury, + And he may well in fretting spend his gall + Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + CHARLES. Sound, sound alarum; we will rush on them. + Now for the honour of the forlorn French! + Him I forgive my death that killeth me, + When he sees me go back one foot or flee. Exeunt + + Here alarum. They are beaten back by the English, with + great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + + CHARLES. Who ever saw the like? What men have I! + Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled + But that they left me midst my enemies. + REIGNIER. Salisbury is a desperate homicide; + He fighteth as one weary of his life. + The other lords, like lions wanting food, + Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + ALENCON. Froissart, a countryman of ours, records + England all Olivers and Rowlands bred + During the time Edward the Third did reign. + More truly now may this be verified; + For none but Samsons and Goliases + It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! + Lean raw-bon'd rascals! Who would e'er suppose + They had such courage and audacity? + CHARLES. Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd + slaves, + And hunger will enforce them to be more eager. + Of old I know them; rather with their teeth + The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + REIGNIER. I think by some odd gimmers or device + Their arms are set, like clocks, still to strike on; + Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. + By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + ALENCON. Be it so. + + Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + + BASTARD. Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + CHARLES. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + BASTARD. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd. + Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? + Be not dismay'd, for succour is at hand. + A holy maid hither with me I bring, + Which, by a vision sent to her from heaven, + Ordained is to raise this tedious siege + And drive the English forth the bounds of France. + The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, + Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: + What's past and what's to come she can descry. + Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, + For they are certain and unfallible. + CHARLES. Go, call her in. [Exit BASTARD] + But first, to try her skill, + Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place; + Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern; + By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + + Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS with + JOAN LA PUCELLE + + REIGNIER. Fair maid, is 't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + PUCELLE. Reignier, is 't thou that thinkest to beguile me? + Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; + I know thee well, though never seen before. + Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me. + In private will I talk with thee apart. + Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + REIGNIER. She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + PUCELLE. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, + My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. + Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd + To shine on my contemptible estate. + Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs + And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, + God's Mother deigned to appear to me, + And in a vision full of majesty + Will'd me to leave my base vocation + And free my country from calamity + Her aid she promis'd and assur'd success. + In complete glory she reveal'd herself; + And whereas I was black and swart before, + With those clear rays which she infus'd on me + That beauty am I bless'd with which you may see. + Ask me what question thou canst possible, + And I will answer unpremeditated. + My courage try by combat if thou dar'st, + And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. + Resolve on this: thou shalt be fortunate + If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + CHARLES. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms. + Only this proof I'll of thy valour make + In single combat thou shalt buckle with me; + And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; + Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + PUCELLE. I am prepar'd; here is my keen-edg'd sword, + Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side, + The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine's churchyard, + Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + CHARLES. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + PUCELLE. And while I live I'll ne'er fly from a man. + [Here they fight and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes] + CHARLES. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon, + And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + PUCELLE. Christ's Mother helps me, else I were too weak. + CHARLES. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me. + Impatiently I burn with thy desire; + My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd. + Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, + Let me thy servant and not sovereign be. + 'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + PUCELLE. I must not yield to any rites of love, + For my profession's sacred from above. + When I have chased all thy foes from hence, + Then will I think upon a recompense. + CHARLES. Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + REIGNIER. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + ALENCON. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; + Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + REIGNIER. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + ALENCON. He may mean more than we poor men do know; + These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + REIGNIER. My lord, where are you? What devise you on? + Shall we give o'er Orleans, or no? + PUCELLE. Why, no, I say; distrustful recreants! + Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + CHARLES. What she says I'll confirm; we'll fight it out. + PUCELLE. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. + This night the siege assuredly I'll raise. + Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, + Since I have entered into these wars. + Glory is like a circle in the water, + Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself + Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. + With Henry's death the English circle ends; + Dispersed are the glories it included. + Now am I like that proud insulting ship + Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + CHARLES. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? + Thou with an eagle art inspired then. + Helen, the mother of great Constantine, + Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters were like thee. + Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, + How may I reverently worship thee enough? + ALENCON. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + REIGNIER. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; + Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd. + CHARLES. Presently we'll try. Come, let's away about it. + No prophet will I trust if she prove false. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 3. + + London. Before the Tower gates + + Enter the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, with his serving-men + in blue coats + + GLOUCESTER. I am come to survey the Tower this day; + Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. + Where be these warders that they wait not here? + Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + FIRST WARDER. [Within] Who's there that knocks so + imperiously? + FIRST SERVING-MAN. It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + SECOND WARDER. [Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be + let in. + FIRST SERVING-MAN. Villains, answer you so the Lord + Protector? + FIRST WARDER. [Within] The Lord protect him! so we + answer him. + We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + GLOUCESTER. Who willed you, or whose will stands but + mine? + There's none Protector of the realm but I. + Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. + Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + [GLOUCESTER'S men rush at the Tower gates, and + WOODVILLE the Lieutenant speaks within] + WOODVILLE. [Within] What noise is this? What traitors + have we here? + GLOUCESTER. Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? + Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + WOODVILLE. [Within] Have patience, noble Duke, I may + not open; + The Cardinal of Winchester forbids. + From him I have express commandment + That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + GLOUCESTER. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him fore me? + Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate + Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook! + Thou art no friend to God or to the King. + Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. + SERVING-MEN. Open the gates unto the Lord Protector, + Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + + Enter to the PROTECTOR at the Tower gates WINCHESTER + and his men in tawny coats + + WINCHESTER. How now, ambitious Humphry! What means + this? + GLOUCESTER. Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be + shut out? + WINCHESTER. I do, thou most usurping proditor, + And not Protector of the King or realm. + GLOUCESTER. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, + Thou that contrived'st to murder our dead lord; + Thou that giv'st whores indulgences to sin. + I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, + If thou proceed in this thy insolence. + WINCHESTER. Nay, stand thou back; I will not budge a foot. + This be Damascus; be thou cursed Cain, + To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + GLOUCESTER. I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back. + Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth + I'll use to carry thee out of this place. + WINCHESTER. Do what thou dar'st; I beard thee to thy face. + GLOUCESTER. What! am I dar'd and bearded to my face? + Draw, men, for all this privileged place + Blue-coats to tawny-coats. Priest, beware your beard; + I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly; + Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat; + In spite of Pope or dignities of church, + Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. + WINCHESTER. Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the + Pope. + GLOUCESTER. Winchester goose! I cry 'A rope, a rope!' + Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? + Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. + Out, tawny-coats! Out, scarlet hypocrite! + + Here GLOUCESTER'S men beat out the CARDINAL'S + men; and enter in the hurly burly the MAYOR OF + LONDON and his OFFICERS + + MAYOR. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, + Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + GLOUCESTER. Peace, Mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: + Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor King, + Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. + WINCHESTER. Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens; + One that still motions war and never peace, + O'ercharging your free purses with large fines; + That seeks to overthrow religion, + Because he is Protector of the realm, + And would have armour here out of the Tower, + To crown himself King and suppress the Prince. + GLOUCESTER. I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + [Here they skirmish again] + MAYOR. Nought rests for me in this tumultuous strife + But to make open proclamation. + Come, officer, as loud as e'er thou canst, + Cry. + OFFICER. [Cries] All manner of men assembled here in arms + this day against God's peace and the King's, we charge + and command you, in his Highness' name, to repair to + your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, handle, or + use, any sword, weapon, or dagger, henceforward, upon + pain of death. + GLOUCESTER. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law; + But we shall meet and break our minds at large. + WINCHESTER. Gloucester, we'll meet to thy cost, be sure; + Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + MAYOR. I'll call for clubs if you will not away. + This Cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + GLOUCESTER. Mayor, farewell; thou dost but what thou + mayst. + WINCHESTER. Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head, + For I intend to have it ere long. + Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and WINCHESTER + with their servants + MAYOR. See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. + Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! + I myself fight not once in forty year. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 4. + + France. Before Orleans + + Enter, on the walls, the MASTER-GUNNER + OF ORLEANS and his BOY + + MASTER-GUNNER. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is + besieg'd, + And how the English have the suburbs won. + BOY. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, + Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. + MASTER-GUNNER. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd + by me. + Chief master-gunner am I of this town; + Something I must do to procure me grace. + The Prince's espials have informed me + How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, + Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars + In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, + And thence discover how with most advantage + They may vex us with shot or with assault. + To intercept this inconvenience, + A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd; + And even these three days have I watch'd + If I could see them. Now do thou watch, + For I can stay no longer. + If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; + And thou shalt find me at the Governor's. Exit + BOY. Father, I warrant you; take you no care; + I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. Exit + + Enter SALISBURY and TALBOT on the turrets, with + SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE, SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE, + and others + + SALISBURY. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! + How wert thou handled being prisoner? + Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd? + Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + TALBOT. The Earl of Bedford had a prisoner + Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; + For him was I exchang'd and ransomed. + But with a baser man of arms by far + Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me; + Which I disdaining scorn'd, and craved death + Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. + In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd. + But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart + Whom with my bare fists I would execute, + If I now had him brought into my power. + SALISBURY. Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + TALBOT. With scoffs, and scorns, and contumelious taunts, + In open market-place produc'd they me + To be a public spectacle to all; + Here, said they, is the terror of the French, + The scarecrow that affrights our children so. + Then broke I from the officers that led me, + And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground + To hurl at the beholders of my shame; + My grisly countenance made others fly; + None durst come near for fear of sudden death. + In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; + So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread + That they suppos'd I could rend bars of steel + And spurn in pieces posts of adamant; + Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had + That walk'd about me every minute-while; + And if I did but stir out of my bed, + Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + + Enter the BOY with a linstock + + SALISBURY. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd; + But we will be reveng'd sufficiently. + Now it is supper-time in Orleans: + Here, through this grate, I count each one + And view the Frenchmen how they fortify. + Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. + Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale, + Let me have your express opinions + Where is best place to make our batt'ry next. + GARGRAVE. I think at the North Gate; for there stand lords. + GLANSDALE. And I here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + TALBOT. For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, + Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + [Here they shoot and SALISBURY and GARGRAVE + fall down] + SALISBURY. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + GARGRAVE. O Lord, have mercy on me, woeful man! + TALBOT. What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? + Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak. + How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men? + One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! + Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand + That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy! + In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; + Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; + Whilst any trump did sound or drum struck up, + His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. + Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? Though thy speech doth fail, + One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace; + The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. + Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive + If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! + Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. + Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? + Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. + Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort, + Thou shalt not die whiles + He beckons with his hand and smiles on me, + As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, + Remember to avenge me on the French.' + Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, + Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn. + Wretched shall France be only in my name. + [Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens] + What stir is this? What tumult's in the heavens? + Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + + Enter a MESSENGER + + MESSENGER. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd + head + The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, + A holy prophetess new risen up, + Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + [Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans] + TALBOT. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan. + It irks his heart he cannot be reveng'd. + Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you. + Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, + Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels + And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. + Convey me Salisbury into his tent, + And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + Alarum. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 5. + + Before Orleans + + Here an alarum again, and TALBOT pursueth the + DAUPHIN and driveth him. Then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + driving Englishmen before her. Then enter TALBOT + + TALBOT. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? + Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them; + A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + + Enter LA PUCELLE + + Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee. + Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee; + Blood will I draw on thee--thou art a witch + And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st. + PUCELLE. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + [Here they fight] + TALBOT. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? + My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage. + And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, + But I will chastise this high minded strumpet. + [They fight again] + PUCELLE. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come. + I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + [A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers] + O'ertake me if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. + Go, go, cheer up thy hungry starved men; + Help Salisbury to make his testament. + This day is ours, as many more shall be. Exit + TALBOT. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; + I know not where I am nor what I do. + A witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal, + Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists. + So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench + Are from their hives and houses driven away. + They call'd us, for our fierceness, English dogs; + Now like to whelps we crying run away. + [A short alarum] + Hark, countrymen! Either renew the fight + Or tear the lions out of England's coat; + Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: + Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, + Or horse or oxen from the leopard, + As you fly from your oft subdued slaves. + [Alarum. Here another skirmish] + It will not be-retire into your trenches. + You all consented unto Salisbury's death, + For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. + Pucelle is ent'red into Orleans + In spite of us or aught that we could do. + O, would I were to die with Salisbury! + The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat + + + + SCENE 6. + + ORLEANS + + Flourish. Enter on the walls, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, + REIGNIER, ALENCON, and soldiers + + PUCELLE. Advance our waving colours on the walls; + Rescu'd is Orleans from the English. + Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + CHARLES. Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, + How shall I honour thee for this success? + Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens, + That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. + France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess. + Recover'd is the town of Orleans. + More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + REIGNIER. Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the + town? + Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires + And feast and banquet in the open streets + To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + ALENCON. All France will be replete with mirth and joy + When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + CHARLES. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; + For which I will divide my crown with her; + And all the priests and friars in my realm + Shall in procession sing her endless praise. + A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear + Than Rhodope's of Memphis ever was. + In memory of her, when she is dead, + Her ashes, in an urn more precious + Than the rich jewel'd coffer of Darius, + Transported shall be at high festivals + Before the kings and queens of France. + No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, + But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. + Come in, and let us banquet royally + After this golden day of victory. Flourish. Exeunt + + + + +ACT II. SCENE 1. + +Before Orleans + +Enter a FRENCH SERGEANT and two SENTINELS + + SERGEANT. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant. + If any noise or soldier you perceive + Near to the walls, by some apparent sign + Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + FIRST SENTINEL. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit SERGEANT] + Thus are poor servitors, + When others sleep upon their quiet beds, + Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. + + Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces, + with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead + march + + TALBOT. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, + By whose approach the regions of Artois, + Wallon, and Picardy, are friends to us, + This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, + Having all day carous'd and banqueted; + Embrace we then this opportunity, + As fitting best to quittance their deceit, + Contriv'd by art and baleful sorcery. + BEDFORD. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame, + Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, + To join with witches and the help of hell! + BURGUNDY. Traitors have never other company. + But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + TALBOT. A maid, they say. + BEDFORD. A maid! and be so martial! + BURGUNDY. Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, + If underneath the standard of the French + She carry armour as she hath begun. + TALBOT. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: + God is our fortress, in whose conquering name + Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + BEDFORD. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + TALBOT. Not all together; better far, I guess, + That we do make our entrance several ways; + That if it chance the one of us do fail + The other yet may rise against their force. + BEDFORD. Agreed; I'll to yond corner. + BURGUNDY. And I to this. + TALBOT. And here will Talbot mount or make his grave. + Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right + Of English Henry, shall this night appear + How much in duty I am bound to both. + [The English scale the walls and cry 'Saint George! + a Talbot!'] + SENTINEL. Arm! arm! The enemy doth make assault. + + The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts. + Enter, several ways, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER, + half ready and half unready + + ALENCON. How now, my lords? What, all unready so? + BASTARD. Unready! Ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well. + REIGNIER. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, + Hearing alarums at our chamber doors. + ALENCON. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms + Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise + More venturous or desperate than this. + BASTARD. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + REIGNIER. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him + ALENCON. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he sped. + + Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE + + BASTARD. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard. + CHARLES. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? + Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, + Make us partakers of a little gain + That now our loss might be ten times so much? + PUCELLE. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? + At all times will you have my power alike? + Sleeping or waking, must I still prevail + Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? + Improvident soldiers! Had your watch been good + This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + CHARLES. Duke of Alencon, this was your default + That, being captain of the watch to-night, + Did look no better to that weighty charge. + ALENCON. Had all your quarters been as safely kept + As that whereof I had the government, + We had not been thus shamefully surpris'd. + BASTARD. Mine was secure. + REIGNIER. And so was mine, my lord. + CHARLES. And, for myself, most part of all this night, + Within her quarter and mine own precinct + I was employ'd in passing to and fro + About relieving of the sentinels. + Then how or which way should they first break in? + PUCELLE. Question, my lords, no further of the case, + How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place + But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. + And now there rests no other shift but this + To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd, + And lay new platforms to endamage them. + + Alarum. Enter an ENGLISH SOLDIER, crying + 'A Talbot! A Talbot!' They fly, leaving their + clothes behind + + SOLDIER. I'll be so bold to take what they have left. + The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; + For I have loaden me with many spoils, + Using no other weapon but his name. Exit + + + + + SCENE 2. + + ORLEANS. Within the town + + Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a CAPTAIN, + and others + + BEDFORD. The day begins to break, and night is fled + Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. + Here sound retreat and cease our hot pursuit. + [Retreat sounded] + TALBOT. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury + And here advance it in the market-place, + The middle centre of this cursed town. + Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; + For every drop of blood was drawn from him + There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. + And that hereafter ages may behold + What ruin happened in revenge of him, + Within their chiefest temple I'll erect + A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd; + Upon the which, that every one may read, + Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans, + The treacherous manner of his mournful death, + And what a terror he had been to France. + But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, + I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, + His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, + Nor any of his false confederates. + BEDFORD. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, + Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds, + They did amongst the troops of armed men + Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + BURGUNDY. Myself, as far as I could well discern + For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, + Am sure I scar'd the Dauphin and his trull, + When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, + Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves + That could not live asunder day or night. + After that things are set in order here, + We'll follow them with all the power we have. + + Enter a MESSENGER + + MESSENGER. All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train + Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts + So much applauded through the realm of France? + TALBOT. Here is the Talbot; who would speak with him? + MESSENGER. The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, + With modesty admiring thy renown, + By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe + To visit her poor castle where she lies, + That she may boast she hath beheld the man + Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + BURGUNDY. Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars + Will turn into a peaceful comic sport, + When ladies crave to be encount'red with. + You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + TALBOT. Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men + Could not prevail with all their oratory, + Yet hath a woman's kindness overrul'd; + And therefore tell her I return great thanks + And in submission will attend on her. + Will not your honours bear me company? + BEDFORD. No, truly; 'tis more than manners will; + And I have heard it said unbidden guests + Are often welcomest when they are gone. + TALBOT. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, + I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. + Come hither, Captain. [Whispers] You perceive my mind? + CAPTAIN. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 3. + + AUVERGNE. The Castle + + Enter the COUNTESS and her PORTER + + COUNTESS. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; + And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + PORTER. Madam, I will. + COUNTESS. The plot is laid; if all things fall out right, + I shall as famous be by this exploit. + As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. + Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight, + And his achievements of no less account. + Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears + To give their censure of these rare reports. + + Enter MESSENGER and TALBOT. + + MESSENGER. Madam, according as your ladyship desir'd, + By message crav'd, so is Lord Talbot come. + COUNTESS. And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + MESSENGER. Madam, it is. + COUNTESS. Is this the scourge of France? + Is this Talbot, so much fear'd abroad + That with his name the mothers still their babes? + I see report is fabulous and false. + I thought I should have seen some Hercules, + A second Hector, for his grim aspect + And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. + Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! + It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp + Should strike such terror to his enemies. + TALBOT. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; + But since your ladyship is not at leisure, + I'll sort some other time to visit you. [Going] + COUNTESS. What means he now? Go ask him whither he + goes. + MESSENGER. Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves + To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + TALBOT. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, + I go to certify her Talbot's here. + + Re-enter PORTER With keys + + COUNTESS. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. + TALBOT. Prisoner! To whom? + COUNTESS. To me, blood-thirsty lord + And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. + Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, + For in my gallery thy picture hangs; + But now the substance shall endure the like + And I will chain these legs and arms of thine + That hast by tyranny these many years + Wasted our country, slain our citizens, + And sent our sons and husbands captivate. + TALBOT. Ha, ha, ha! + COUNTESS. Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to + moan. + TALBOT. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond + To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow + Whereon to practise your severity. + COUNTESS. Why, art not thou the man? + TALBOT. I am indeed. + COUNTESS. Then have I substance too. + TALBOT. No, no, I am but shadow of myself. + You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here; + For what you see is but the smallest part + And least proportion of humanity. + I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here, + It is of such a spacious lofty pitch + Your roof were not sufficient to contain 't. + COUNTESS. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce; + He will be here, and yet he is not here. + How can these contrarieties agree? + TALBOT. That will I show you presently. + + Winds his horn; drums strike up; + a peal of ordnance. Enter soldiers + + How say you, madam? Are you now persuaded + That Talbot is but shadow of himself? + These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength, + With which he yoketh your rebellious necks, + Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns, + And in a moment makes them desolate. + COUNTESS. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse. + I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited, + And more than may be gathered by thy shape. + Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath, + For I am sorry that with reverence + I did not entertain thee as thou art. + TALBOT. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconster + The mind of Talbot as you did mistake + The outward composition of his body. + What you have done hath not offended me. + Nor other satisfaction do I crave + But only, with your patience, that we may + Taste of your wine and see what cates you have, + For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. + COUNTESS. With all my heart, and think me honoured + To feast so great a warrior in my house. Exeunt + + + + + + SCENE 4. + + London. The Temple garden + + Enter the EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; + RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another LAWYER + + PLANTAGENET. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this + silence? + Dare no man answer in a case of truth? + SUFFOLK. Within the Temple Hall we were too loud; + The garden here is more convenient. + PLANTAGENET. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth; + Or else was wrangling Somerset in th' error? + SUFFOLK. Faith, I have been a truant in the law + And never yet could frame my will to it; + And therefore frame the law unto my will. + SOMERSET. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us. + WARWICK. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; + Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; + Between two blades, which bears the better temper; + Between two horses, which doth bear him best; + Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye + I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; + But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, + Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. + PLANTAGENET. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance: + The truth appears so naked on my side + That any purblind eye may find it out. + SOMERSET. And on my side it is so well apparell'd, + So clear, so shining, and so evident, + That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. + PLANTAGENET. Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak, + In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts. + Let him that is a true-born gentleman + And stands upon the honour of his birth, + If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, + From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. + SOMERSET. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, + But dare maintain the party of the truth, + Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. + WARWICK. I love no colours; and, without all colour + Of base insinuating flattery, + I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet. + SUFFOLK. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset, + And say withal I think he held the right. + VERNON. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more + Till you conclude that he upon whose side + The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree + Shall yield the other in the right opinion. + SOMERSET. Good Master Vernon, it is well objected; + If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence. + PLANTAGENET. And I. + VERNON. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case, + I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, + Giving my verdict on the white rose side. + SOMERSET. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, + Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red, + And fall on my side so, against your will. + VERNON. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, + Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt + And keep me on the side where still I am. + SOMERSET. Well, well, come on; who else? + LAWYER. [To Somerset] Unless my study and my books be + false, + The argument you held was wrong in you; + In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too. + PLANTAGENET. Now, Somerset, where is your argument? + SOMERSET. Here in my scabbard, meditating that + Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red. + PLANTAGENET. Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our + roses; + For pale they look with fear, as witnessing + The truth on our side. + SOMERSET. No, Plantagenet, + 'Tis not for fear but anger that thy cheeks + Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses, + And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error. + PLANTAGENET. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset? + SOMERSET. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet? + PLANTAGENET. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth; + Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood. + SOMERSET. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses, + That shall maintain what I have said is true, + Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. + PLANTAGENET. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, + I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. + SUFFOLK. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. + PLANTAGENET. Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and + thee. + SUFFOLK. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. + SOMERSET. Away, away, good William de la Pole! + We grace the yeoman by conversing with him. + WARWICK. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset; + His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence, + Third son to the third Edward, King of England. + Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root? + PLANTAGENET. He bears him on the place's privilege, + Or durst not for his craven heart say thus. + SOMERSET. By Him that made me, I'll maintain my words + On any plot of ground in Christendom. + Was not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge, + For treason executed in our late king's days? + And by his treason stand'st not thou attainted, + Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry? + His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood; + And till thou be restor'd thou art a yeoman. + PLANTAGENET. My father was attached, not attainted; + Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor; + And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset, + Were growing time once ripened to my will. + For your partaker Pole, and you yourself, + I'll note you in my book of memory + To scourge you for this apprehension. + Look to it well, and say you are well warn'd. + SOMERSET. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still; + And know us by these colours for thy foes + For these my friends in spite of thee shall wear. + PLANTAGENET. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, + As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, + Will I for ever, and my faction, wear, + Until it wither with me to my grave, + Or flourish to the height of my degree. + SUFFOLK. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition! + And so farewell until I meet thee next. Exit + SOMERSET. Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious + Richard. Exit + PLANTAGENET. How I am brav'd, and must perforce endure + it! + WARWICK. This blot that they object against your house + Shall be wip'd out in the next Parliament, + Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester; + And if thou be not then created York, + I will not live to be accounted Warwick. + Meantime, in signal of my love to thee, + Against proud Somerset and William Pole, + Will I upon thy party wear this rose; + And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day, + Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden, + Shall send between the Red Rose and the White + A thousand souls to death and deadly night. + PLANTAGENET. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you + That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. + VERNON. In your behalf still will I wear the same. + LAWYER. And so will I. + PLANTAGENET. Thanks, gentle sir. + Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say + This quarrel will drink blood another day. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 5. + + The Tower of London + + Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair, and GAOLERS + + MORTIMER. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, + Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. + Even like a man new haled from the rack, + So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; + And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death, + Nestor-like aged in an age of care, + Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. + These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, + Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent; + Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief, + And pithless arms, like to a withered vine + That droops his sapless branches to the ground. + Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb, + Unable to support this lump of clay, + Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, + As witting I no other comfort have. + But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come? + FIRST KEEPER. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come. + We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber; + And answer was return'd that he will come. + MORTIMER. Enough; my soul shall then be satisfied. + Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. + Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, + Before whose glory I was great in arms, + This loathsome sequestration have I had; + And even since then hath Richard been obscur'd, + Depriv'd of honour and inheritance. + But now the arbitrator of despairs, + Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries, + With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence. + I would his troubles likewise were expir'd, + That so he might recover what was lost. + + Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET + + FIRST KEEPER. My lord, your loving nephew now is come. + MORTIMER. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? + PLANTAGENET. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, + Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. + MORTIMER. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck + And in his bosom spend my latter gasp. + O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks, + That I may kindly give one fainting kiss. + And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, + Why didst thou say of late thou wert despis'd? + PLANTAGENET. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm; + And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease. + This day, in argument upon a case, + Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me; + Among which terms he us'd his lavish tongue + And did upbraid me with my father's death; + Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, + Else with the like I had requited him. + Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake, + In honour of a true Plantagenet, + And for alliance sake, declare the cause + My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head. + MORTIMER. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me + And hath detain'd me all my flow'ring youth + Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, + Was cursed instrument of his decease. + PLANTAGENET. Discover more at large what cause that was, + For I am ignorant and cannot guess. + MORTIMER. I will, if that my fading breath permit + And death approach not ere my tale be done. + Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, + Depos'd his nephew Richard, Edward's son, + The first-begotten and the lawful heir + Of Edward king, the third of that descent; + During whose reign the Percies of the north, + Finding his usurpation most unjust, + Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne. + The reason mov'd these warlike lords to this + Was, for that-young Richard thus remov'd, + Leaving no heir begotten of his body-- + I was the next by birth and parentage; + For by my mother I derived am + From Lionel Duke of Clarence, third son + To King Edward the Third; whereas he + From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree, + Being but fourth of that heroic line. + But mark: as in this haughty great attempt + They laboured to plant the rightful heir, + I lost my liberty, and they their lives. + Long after this, when Henry the Fifth, + Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign, + Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, then deriv'd + From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York, + Marrying my sister, that thy mother was, + Again, in pity of my hard distress, + Levied an army, weening to redeem + And have install'd me in the diadem; + But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl, + And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers, + In whom the title rested, were suppress'd. + PLANTAGENET. Of Which, my lord, your honour is the last. + MORTIMER. True; and thou seest that I no issue have, + And that my fainting words do warrant death. + Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather; + But yet be wary in thy studious care. + PLANTAGENET. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me. + But yet methinks my father's execution + Was nothing less than bloody tyranny. + MORTIMER. With silence, nephew, be thou politic; + Strong fixed is the house of Lancaster + And like a mountain not to be remov'd. + But now thy uncle is removing hence, + As princes do their courts when they are cloy'd + With long continuance in a settled place. + PLANTAGENET. O uncle, would some part of my young years + Might but redeem the passage of your age! + MORTIMER. Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer + doth + Which giveth many wounds when one will kill. + Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good; + Only give order for my funeral. + And so, farewell; and fair be all thy hopes, + And prosperous be thy life in peace and war! [Dies] + PLANTAGENET. And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul! + In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, + And like a hermit overpass'd thy days. + Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; + And what I do imagine, let that rest. + Keepers, convey him hence; and I myself + Will see his burial better than his life. + Exeunt GAOLERS, hearing out the body of MORTIMER + Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, + Chok'd with ambition of the meaner sort; + And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries, + Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house, + I doubt not but with honour to redress; + And therefore haste I to the Parliament, + Either to be restored to my blood, + Or make my ill th' advantage of my good. Exit + + + + +ACT III. SCENE 1. + +London. The Parliament House + +Flourish. Enter the KING, EXETER, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, +and SUFFOLK; +the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others. +GLOUCESTER offers to put up a bill; WINCHESTER snatches it, and +tears it + + WINCHESTER. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, + With written pamphlets studiously devis'd? + Humphrey of Gloucester, if thou canst accuse + Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge, + Do it without invention, suddenly; + I with sudden and extemporal speech + Purpose to answer what thou canst object. + GLOUCESTER. Presumptuous priest, this place commands my + patience, + Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me. + Think not, although in writing I preferr'd + The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, + That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able + Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen. + No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness, + Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissentious pranks, + As very infants prattle of thy pride. + Thou art a most pernicious usurer; + Froward by nature, enemy to peace; + Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems + A man of thy profession and degree; + And for thy treachery, what's more manifest + In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life, + As well at London Bridge as at the Tower? + Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted, + The King, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt + From envious malice of thy swelling heart. + WINCHESTER. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe + To give me hearing what I shall reply. + If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse, + As he will have me, how am I so poor? + Or how haps it I seek not to advance + Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling? + And for dissension, who preferreth peace + More than I do, except I be provok'd? + No, my good lords, it is not that offends; + It is not that that incens'd hath incens'd the Duke: + It is because no one should sway but he; + No one but he should be about the King; + And that engenders thunder in his breast + And makes him roar these accusations forth. + But he shall know I am as good + GLOUCESTER. As good! + Thou bastard of my grandfather! + WINCHESTER. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray, + But one imperious in another's throne? + GLOUCESTER. Am I not Protector, saucy priest? + WINCHESTER. And am not I a prelate of the church? + GLOUCESTER. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, + And useth it to patronage his theft. + WINCHESTER. Unreverent Gloucester! + GLOUCESTER. Thou art reverend + Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. + WINCHESTER. Rome shall remedy this. + WARWICK. Roam thither then. + SOMERSET. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. + WARWICK. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. + SOMERSET. Methinks my lord should be religious, + And know the office that belongs to such. + WARWICK. Methinks his lordship should be humbler; + It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. + SOMERSET. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. + WARWICK. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that? + Is not his Grace Protector to the King? + PLANTAGENET. [Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his + tongue, + Lest it be said 'Speak, sirrah, when you should; + Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?' + Else would I have a fling at Winchester. + KING HENRY. Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester, + The special watchmen of our English weal, + I would prevail, if prayers might prevail + To join your hearts in love and amity. + O, what a scandal is it to our crown + That two such noble peers as ye should jar! + Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell + Civil dissension is a viperous worm + That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. + [A noise within: 'Down with the tawny coats!'] + What tumult's this? + WARWICK. An uproar, I dare warrant, + Begun through malice of the Bishop's men. + [A noise again: 'Stones! Stones!'] + + Enter the MAYOR OF LONDON, attended + + MAYOR. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry, + Pity the city of London, pity us! + The Bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men, + Forbidden late to carry any weapon, + Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones + And, banding themselves in contrary parts, + Do pelt so fast at one another's pate + That many have their giddy brains knock'd out. + Our windows are broke down in every street, + And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops. + + Enter in skirmish, the retainers of GLOUCESTER and + WINCHESTER, with bloody pates + + KING HENRY. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, + To hold your slaught'ring hands and keep the peace. + Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife. + FIRST SERVING-MAN. Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we'll + fall to it with our teeth. + SECOND SERVING-MAN. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. + [Skirmish again] + GLOUCESTER. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, + And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. + THIRD SERVING-MAN. My lord, we know your Grace to be a + man + Just and upright, and for your royal birth + Inferior to none but to his Majesty; + And ere that we will suffer such a prince, + So kind a father of the commonweal, + To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate, + We and our wives and children all will fight + And have our bodies slaught'red by thy foes. + FIRST SERVING-MAN. Ay, and the very parings of our nails + Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Begin again] + GLOUCESTER. Stay, stay, I say! + And if you love me, as you say you do, + Let me persuade you to forbear awhile. + KING HENRY. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! + Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold + My sighs and tears and will not once relent? + Who should be pitiful, if you be not? + Or who should study to prefer a peace, + If holy churchmen take delight in broils? + WARWICK. Yield, my Lord Protector; yield, Winchester; + Except you mean with obstinate repulse + To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm. + You see what mischief, and what murder too, + Hath been enacted through your enmity; + Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood. + WINCHESTER. He shall submit, or I will never yield. + GLOUCESTER. Compassion on the King commands me stoop, + Or I would see his heart out ere the priest + Should ever get that privilege of me. + WARWICK. Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the Duke + Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, + As by his smoothed brows it doth appear; + Why look you still so stem and tragical? + GLOUCESTER. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. + KING HENRY. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach + That malice was a great and grievous sin; + And will not you maintain the thing you teach, + But prove a chief offender in the same? + WARWICK. Sweet King! The Bishop hath a kindly gird. + For shame, my Lord of Winchester, relent; + What, shall a child instruct you what to do? + WINCHESTER. Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee; + Love for thy love and hand for hand I give. + GLOUCESTER [Aside] Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow + heart. + See here, my friends and loving countrymen: + This token serveth for a flag of truce + Betwixt ourselves and all our followers. + So help me God, as I dissemble not! + WINCHESTER [Aside] So help me God, as I intend it not! + KING HENRY. O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester, + How joyful am I made by this contract! + Away, my masters! trouble us no more; + But join in friendship, as your lords have done. + FIRST SERVING-MAN. Content: I'll to the surgeon's. + SECOND SERVING-MAN. And so will I. + THIRD SERVING-MAN. And I will see what physic the tavern + affords. Exeunt servants, MAYOR, &C. + WARWICK. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; + Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet + We do exhibit to your Majesty. + GLOUCESTER. Well urg'd, my Lord of Warwick; for, sweet + prince, + An if your Grace mark every circumstance, + You have great reason to do Richard right; + Especially for those occasions + At Eltham Place I told your Majesty. + KING HENRY. And those occasions, uncle, were of force; + Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is + That Richard be restored to his blood. + WARWICK. Let Richard be restored to his blood; + So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd. + WINCHESTER. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. + KING HENRY. If Richard will be true, not that alone + But all the whole inheritance I give + That doth belong unto the house of York, + From whence you spring by lineal descent. + PLANTAGENET. Thy humble servant vows obedience + And humble service till the point of death. + KING HENRY. Stoop then and set your knee against my foot; + And in reguerdon of that duty done + I girt thee with the valiant sword of York. + Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet, + And rise created princely Duke of York. + PLANTAGENET. And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall! + And as my duty springs, so perish they + That grudge one thought against your Majesty! + ALL. Welcome, high Prince, the mighty Duke of York! + SOMERSET. [Aside] Perish, base Prince, ignoble Duke of + York! + GLOUCESTER. Now will it best avail your Majesty + To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France: + The presence of a king engenders love + Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends, + As it disanimates his enemies. + KING HENRY. When Gloucester says the word, King Henry + goes; + For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. + GLOUCESTER. Your ships already are in readiness. + Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but EXETER + EXETER. Ay, we may march in England or in France, + Not seeing what is likely to ensue. + This late dissension grown betwixt the peers + Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love + And will at last break out into a flame; + As fest'red members rot but by degree + Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away, + So will this base and envious discord breed. + And now I fear that fatal prophecy. + Which in the time of Henry nam'd the Fifth + Was in the mouth of every sucking babe: + That Henry born at Monmouth should win all, + And Henry born at Windsor should lose all. + Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish + His days may finish ere that hapless time. Exit + + + + + SCENE 2. + + France. Before Rouen + + Enter LA PUCELLE disguis'd, with four soldiers dressed + like countrymen, with sacks upon their backs + + PUCELLE. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, + Through which our policy must make a breach. + Take heed, be wary how you place your words; + Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men + That come to gather money for their corn. + If we have entrance, as I hope we shall, + And that we find the slothful watch but weak, + I'll by a sign give notice to our friends, + That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. + FIRST SOLDIER. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city, + And we be lords and rulers over Rouen; + Therefore we'll knock. [Knocks] + WATCH. [Within] Qui est la? + PUCELLE. Paysans, pauvres gens de France + Poor market-folks that come to sell their corn. + WATCH. Enter, go in; the market-bell is rung. + PUCELLE. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the + ground. + + [LA PUCELLE, &c., enter the town] + + Enter CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER, and forces + + CHARLES. Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem! + And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen. + BASTARD. Here ent'red Pucelle and her practisants; + Now she is there, how will she specify + Here is the best and safest passage in? + ALENCON. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower; + Which once discern'd shows that her meaning is + No way to that, for weakness, which she ent'red. + + Enter LA PUCELLE, on the top, thrusting out + a torch burning + + PUCELLE. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch + That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen, + But burning fatal to the Talbotites. Exit + BASTARD. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; + The burning torch in yonder turret stands. + CHARLES. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, + A prophet to the fall of all our foes! + ALENCON. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; + Enter, and cry 'The Dauphin!' presently, + And then do execution on the watch. + +Alarum. Exeunt + + An alarum. Enter TALBOT in an excursion + + TALBOT. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, + If Talbot but survive thy treachery. + PUCELLE, that witch, that damned sorceress, + Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, + That hardly we escap'd the pride of France. Exit + + An alarum; excursions. BEDFORD brought in sick in + a chair. Enter TALBOT and BURGUNDY without; + within, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENCON, + and REIGNIER, on the walls + + PUCELLE. Good morrow, gallants! Want ye corn for bread? + I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast + Before he'll buy again at such a rate. + 'Twas full of darnel--do you like the taste? + BURGUNDY. Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan. + I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own, + And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. + CHARLES. Your Grace may starve, perhaps, before that time. + BEDFORD. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason! + PUCELLE. What you do, good grey beard? Break a + lance, + And run a tilt at death within a chair? + TALBOT. Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite, + Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours, + Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age + And twit with cowardice a man half dead? + Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again, + Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. + PUCELLE. Are ye so hot, sir? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace; + If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow. + [The English party whisper together in council] + God speed the parliament! Who shall be the Speaker? + TALBOT. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? + PUCELLE. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools, + To try if that our own be ours or no. + TALBOT. I speak not to that railing Hecate, + But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest. + Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out? + ALENCON. Signior, no. + TALBOT. Signior, hang! Base muleteers of France! + Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls, + And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. + PUCELLE. Away, captains! Let's get us from the walls; + For Talbot means no goodness by his looks. + God b'uy, my lord; we came but to tell you + That we are here. Exeunt from the walls + + TALBOT. And there will we be too, ere it be long, + Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame! + Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house, + Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France, + Either to get the town again or die; + And I, as sure as English Henry lives + And as his father here was conqueror, + As sure as in this late betrayed town + Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried + So sure I swear to get the town or die. + BURGUNDY. My vows are equal partners with thy vows. + TALBOT. But ere we go, regard this dying prince, + The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord, + We will bestow you in some better place, + Fitter for sickness and for crazy age. + BEDFORD. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me; + Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen, + And will be partner of your weal or woe. + BURGUNDY. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you. + BEDFORD. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read + That stout Pendragon in his litter sick + Came to the field, and vanquished his foes. + Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts, + Because I ever found them as myself. + TALBOT. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast! + Then be it so. Heavens keep old Bedford safe! + And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, + But gather we our forces out of hand + And set upon our boasting enemy. + Exeunt against the town all but BEDFORD and attendants + + An alarum; excursions. Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE, + and a CAPTAIN + + CAPTAIN. Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? + FASTOLFE. Whither away? To save myself by flight: + We are like to have the overthrow again. + CAPTAIN. What! Will you and leave Lord Talbot? + FASTOLFE. Ay, + All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. Exit + + CAPTAIN. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! + Exit into the town + + Retreat; excursions. LA PUCELLE, ALENCON, + and CHARLES fly + + BEDFORD. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please, + For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. + What is the trust or strength of foolish man? + They that of late were daring with their scoffs + Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. + [BEDFORD dies and is carried in by two in his chair] + + An alarum. Re-enter TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the rest + + TALBOT. Lost and recovered in a day again! + This is a double honour, Burgundy. + Yet heavens have glory for this victory! + BURGUNDY. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy + Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects + Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments. + TALBOT. Thanks, gentle Duke. But where is Pucelle now? + I think her old familiar is asleep. + Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks? + What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief + That such a valiant company are fled. + Now will we take some order in the town, + Placing therein some expert officers; + And then depart to Paris to the King, + For there young Henry with his nobles lie. + BURGUNDY. What Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. + TALBOT. But yet, before we go, let's not forget + The noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd, + But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen. + A braver soldier never couched lance, + A gentler heart did never sway in court; + But kings and mightiest potentates must die, + For that's the end of human misery. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 3. + + The plains near Rouen + + Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD, ALENCON, LA PUCELLE, + and forces + + PUCELLE. Dismay not, Princes, at this accident, + Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered. + Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, + For things that are not to be remedied. + Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while + And like a peacock sweep along his tail; + We'll pull his plumes and take away his train, + If Dauphin and the rest will be but rul'd. + CHARLES. We have guided by thee hitherto, + And of thy cunning had no diffidence; + One sudden foil shall never breed distrust + BASTARD. Search out thy wit for secret policies, + And we will make thee famous through the world. + ALENCON. We'll set thy statue in some holy place, + And have thee reverenc'd like a blessed saint. + Employ thee, then, sweet virgin, for our good. + PUCELLE. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise: + By fair persuasions, mix'd with sug'red words, + We will entice the Duke of Burgundy + To leave the Talbot and to follow us. + CHARLES. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, + France were no place for Henry's warriors; + Nor should that nation boast it so with us, + But be extirped from our provinces. + ALENCON. For ever should they be expuls'd from France, + And not have tide of an earldom here. + PUCELLE. Your honours shall perceive how I will work + To bring this matter to the wished end. + [Drum sounds afar off] + Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive + Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. + + Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over + at a distance, TALBOT and his forces + + There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread, + And all the troops of English after him. + + French march. Enter the DUKE OF BURGUNDY and + his forces + + Now in the rearward comes the Duke and his. + Fortune in favour makes him lag behind. + Summon a parley; we will talk with him. + [Trumpets sound a parley] + CHARLES. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! + BURGUNDY. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? + PUCELLE. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. + BURGUNDY. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching + hence. + CHARLES. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. + PUCELLE. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! + Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. + BURGUNDY. Speak on; but be not over-tedious. + PUCELLE. Look on thy country, look on fertile France, + And see the cities and the towns defac'd + By wasting ruin of the cruel foe; + As looks the mother on her lowly babe + When death doth close his tender dying eyes, + See, see the pining malady of France; + Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, + Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast. + O, turn thy edged sword another way; + Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help! + One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom + Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. + Return thee therefore with a flood of tears, + And wash away thy country's stained spots. + BURGUNDY. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words, + Or nature makes me suddenly relent. + PUCELLE. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, + Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. + Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation + That will not trust thee but for profit's sake? + When Talbot hath set footing once in France, + And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill, + Who then but English Henry will be lord, + And thou be thrust out like a fugitive? + Call we to mind-and mark but this for proof: + Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe? + And was he not in England prisoner? + But when they heard he was thine enemy + They set him free without his ransom paid, + In spite of Burgundy and all his friends. + See then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen, + And join'st with them will be thy slaughtermen. + Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord; + Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms. + BURGUNDY. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers + Have batt'red me like roaring cannon-shot + And made me almost yield upon my knees. + Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen + And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace. + My forces and my power of men are yours; + So, farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee. + PUCELLE. Done like a Frenchman- [Aside] turn and turn + again. + CHARLES. Welcome, brave Duke! Thy friendship makes us + fresh. + BASTARD. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. + ALENCON. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, + And doth deserve a coronet of gold. + CHARLES. Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers, + And seek how we may prejudice the foe. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 4. + + Paris. The palace + + Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, WINCHESTER, YORK, + SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK, EXETER, + VERNON, BASSET, and others. To them, with + his soldiers, TALBOT + + TALBOT. My gracious Prince, and honourable peers, + Hearing of your arrival in this realm, + I have awhile given truce unto my wars + To do my duty to my sovereign; + In sign whereof, this arm that hath reclaim'd + To your obedience fifty fortresses, + Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength, + Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem, + Lets fall his sword before your Highness' feet, + And with submissive loyalty of heart + Ascribes the glory of his conquest got + First to my God and next unto your Grace. [Kneels] + KING HENRY. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester, + That hath so long been resident in France? + GLOUCESTER. Yes, if it please your Majesty, my liege. + KING HENRY. Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord! + When I was young, as yet I am not old, + I do remember how my father said + A stouter champion never handled sword. + Long since we were resolved of your truth, + Your faithful service, and your toil in war; + Yet never have you tasted our reward, + Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks, + Because till now we never saw your face. + Therefore stand up; and for these good deserts + We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury; + And in our coronation take your place. + Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET + VERNON. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, + Disgracing of these colours that I wear + In honour of my noble Lord of York + Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st? + BASSET. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage + The envious barking of your saucy tongue + Against my lord the Duke of Somerset. + VERNON. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is. + BASSET. Why, what is he? As good a man as York! + VERNON. Hark ye: not so. In witness, take ye that. + [Strikes him] + BASSET. Villain, thou knowest the law of arms is such + That whoso draws a sword 'tis present death, + Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. + But I'll unto his Majesty and crave + I may have liberty to venge this wrong; + When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost. + VERNON. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you; + And, after, meet you sooner than you would. Exeunt + + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 1. + +Park. The palace + +Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, +WARWICK, TALBOT, EXETER, the GOVERNOR OF PARIS, and others + + GLOUCESTER. Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head. + WINCHESTER. God save King Henry, of that name the Sixth! + GLOUCESTER. Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath + [GOVERNOR kneels] + That you elect no other king but him, + Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, + And none your foes but such as shall pretend + Malicious practices against his state. + This shall ye do, so help you righteous God! + Exeunt GOVERNOR and his train + + Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE + + FASTOLFE. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, + To haste unto your coronation, + A letter was deliver'd to my hands, + Writ to your Grace from th' Duke of Burgundy. + TALBOT. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! + I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next + To tear the Garter from thy craven's leg, [Plucking it off] + Which I have done, because unworthily + Thou wast installed in that high degree. + Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest: + This dastard, at the battle of Patay, + When but in all I was six thousand strong, + And that the French were almost ten to one, + Before we met or that a stroke was given, + Like to a trusty squire did run away; + In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; + Myself and divers gentlemen beside + Were there surpris'd and taken prisoners. + Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss, + Or whether that such cowards ought to wear + This ornament of knighthood--yea or no. + GLOUCESTER. To say the truth, this fact was infamous + And ill beseeming any common man, + Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader. + TALBOT. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords, + Knights of the Garter were of noble birth, + Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage, + Such as were grown to credit by the wars; + Not fearing death nor shrinking for distress, + But always resolute in most extremes. + He then that is not furnish'd in this sort + Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, + Profaning this most honourable order, + And should, if I were worthy to be judge, + Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain + That doth presume to boast of gentle blood. + KING HENRY. Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy + doom. + Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight; + Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death. + Exit FASTOLFE + + And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter + Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy. + GLOUCESTER. [Viewing the superscription] What means his + Grace, that he hath chang'd his style? + No more but plain and bluntly 'To the King!' + Hath he forgot he is his sovereign? + Or doth this churlish superscription + Pretend some alteration in good-will? + What's here? [Reads] 'I have, upon especial cause, + Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck, + Together with the pitiful complaints + Of such as your oppression feeds upon, + Forsaken your pernicious faction, + And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.' + O monstrous treachery! Can this be so + That in alliance, amity, and oaths, + There should be found such false dissembling guile? + KING HENRY. What! Doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? + GLOUCESTER. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. + KING HENRY. Is that the worst this letter doth contain? + GLOUCESTER. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes. + KING HENRY. Why then Lord Talbot there shall talk with + him + And give him chastisement for this abuse. + How say you, my lord, are you not content? + TALBOT. Content, my liege! Yes; but that I am prevented, + I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. + KING HENRY. Then gather strength and march unto him + straight; + Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason. + And what offence it is to flout his friends. + TALBOT. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still + You may behold confusion of your foes. Exit + + Enter VERNON and BASSET + + VERNON. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign. + BASSET. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. + YORK. This is my servant: hear him, noble Prince. + SOMERSET. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him. + KING HENRY. Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak. + Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim, + And wherefore crave you combat, or with whom? + VERNON. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. + BASSET. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. + KING HENRY. What is that wrong whereof you both + complain? First let me know, and then I'll answer you. + BASSET. Crossing the sea from England into France, + This fellow here, with envious carping tongue, + Upbraided me about the rose I wear, + Saying the sanguine colour of the leaves + Did represent my master's blushing cheeks + When stubbornly he did repugn the truth + About a certain question in the law + Argu'd betwixt the Duke of York and him; + With other vile and ignominious terms + In confutation of which rude reproach + And in defence of my lord's worthiness, + I crave the benefit of law of arms. + VERNON. And that is my petition, noble lord; + For though he seem with forged quaint conceit + To set a gloss upon his bold intent, + Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him, + And he first took exceptions at this badge, + Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower + Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart. + YORK. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? + SOMERSET. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, + Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. + KING HENRY. Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick + men, When for so slight and frivolous a cause + Such factious emulations shall arise! + Good cousins both, of York and Somerset, + Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace. + YORK. Let this dissension first be tried by fight, + And then your Highness shall command a peace. + SOMERSET. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; + Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then. + YORK. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. + VERNON. Nay, let it rest where it began at first. + BASSET. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord. + GLOUCESTER. Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife; + And perish ye, with your audacious prate! + Presumptuous vassals, are you not asham'd + With this immodest clamorous outrage + To trouble and disturb the King and us? + And you, my lords--methinks you do not well + To bear with their perverse objections, + Much less to take occasion from their mouths + To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves. + Let me persuade you take a better course. + EXETER. It grieves his Highness. Good my lords, be friends. + KING HENRY. Come hither, you that would be combatants: + Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour, + Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause. + And you, my lords, remember where we are: + In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation; + If they perceive dissension in our looks + And that within ourselves we disagree, + How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd + To wilful disobedience, and rebel! + Beside, what infamy will there arise + When foreign princes shall be certified + That for a toy, a thing of no regard, + King Henry's peers and chief nobility + Destroy'd themselves and lost the realm of France! + O, think upon the conquest of my father, + My tender years; and let us not forgo + That for a trifle that was bought with blood! + Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife. + I see no reason, if I wear this rose, + [Putting on a red rose] + That any one should therefore be suspicious + I more incline to Somerset than York: + Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both. + As well they may upbraid me with my crown, + Because, forsooth, the King of Scots is crown'd. + But your discretions better can persuade + Than I am able to instruct or teach; + And, therefore, as we hither came in peace, + So let us still continue peace and love. + Cousin of York, we institute your Grace + To be our Regent in these parts of France. + And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite + Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot; + And like true subjects, sons of your progenitors, + Go cheerfully together and digest + Your angry choler on your enemies. + Ourself, my Lord Protector, and the rest, + After some respite will return to Calais; + From thence to England, where I hope ere long + To be presented by your victories + With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous rout. + Flourish. Exeunt all but YORK, WARWICK, + EXETER, VERNON + WARWICK. My Lord of York, I promise you, the King + Prettily, methought, did play the orator. + YORK. And so he did; but yet I like it not, + In that he wears the badge of Somerset. + WARWICK. Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not; + I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. + YORK. An if I wist he did-but let it rest; + Other affairs must now be managed. + Exeunt all but EXETER + EXETER. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; + For had the passions of thy heart burst out, + I fear we should have seen decipher'd there + More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils, + Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd. + But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees + This jarring discord of nobility, + This shouldering of each other in the court, + This factious bandying of their favourites, + But that it doth presage some ill event. + 'Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands; + But more when envy breeds unkind division: + There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. Exit + + + + + SCENE 2. + + France. Before Bordeaux + + Enter TALBOT, with trump and drum + + TALBOT. Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter; + Summon their general unto the wall. + + Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter, aloft, the + GENERAL OF THE FRENCH, and others + + English John Talbot, Captains, calls you forth, + Servant in arms to Harry King of England; + And thus he would open your city gates, + Be humble to us, call my sovereign yours + And do him homage as obedient subjects, + And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power; + But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace, + You tempt the fury of my three attendants, + Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire; + Who in a moment even with the earth + Shall lay your stately and air braving towers, + If you forsake the offer of their love. + GENERAL OF THE FRENCH. Thou ominous and fearful owl of + death, + Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge! + The period of thy tyranny approacheth. + On us thou canst not enter but by death; + For, I protest, we are well fortified, + And strong enough to issue out and fight. + If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed, + Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee. + On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd + To wall thee from the liberty of flight, + And no way canst thou turn thee for redress + But death doth front thee with apparent spoil + And pale destruction meets thee in the face. + Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament + To rive their dangerous artillery + Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot. + Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man, + Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit! + This is the latest glory of thy praise + That I, thy enemy, due thee withal; + For ere the glass that now begins to run + Finish the process of his sandy hour, + These eyes that see thee now well coloured + Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead. + [Drum afar off] + Hark! hark! The Dauphin's drum, a warning bell, + Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul; + And mine shall ring thy dire departure out. Exit + TALBOT. He fables not; I hear the enemy. + Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings. + O, negligent and heedless discipline! + How are we park'd and bounded in a pale + A little herd of England's timorous deer, + Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs! + If we be English deer, be then in blood; + Not rascal-like to fall down with a pinch, + But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags, + Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel + And make the cowards stand aloof at bay. + Sell every man his life as dear as mine, + And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends. + God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right, + Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 3. + + Plains in Gascony + + Enter YORK, with trumpet and many soldiers. A + MESSENGER meets him + + YORK. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again + That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin? + MESSENGER. They are return'd, my lord, and give it out + That he is march'd to Bordeaux with his power + To fight with Talbot; as he march'd along, + By your espials were discovered + Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led, + Which join'd with him and made their march for + Bordeaux. + YORK. A plague upon that villain Somerset + That thus delays my promised supply + Of horsemen that were levied for this siege! + Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid, + And I am louted by a traitor villain + And cannot help the noble chevalier. + God comfort him in this necessity! + If he miscarry, farewell wars in France. + + Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY + + LUCY. Thou princely leader of our English strength, + Never so needful on the earth of France, + Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot, + Who now is girdled with a waist of iron + And hemm'd about with grim destruction. + To Bordeaux, warlike Duke! to Bordeaux, York! + Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour. + YORK. O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart + Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place! + So should we save a valiant gentleman + By forfeiting a traitor and a coward. + Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep + That thus we die while remiss traitors sleep. + LUCY. O, send some succour to the distress'd lord! + YORK. He dies; we lose; I break my warlike word. + We mourn: France smiles. We lose: they daily get- + All long of this vile traitor Somerset. + LUCY. Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul, + And on his son, young John, who two hours since + I met in travel toward his warlike father. + This seven years did not Talbot see his son; + And now they meet where both their lives are done. + YORK. Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have + To bid his young son welcome to his grave? + Away! vexation almost stops my breath, + That sund'red friends greet in the hour of death. + Lucy, farewell; no more my fortune can + But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. + Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away + Long all of Somerset and his delay. Exit with forces + LUCY. Thus, while the vulture of sedition + Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, + Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss + The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror, + That ever-living man of memory, + Henry the Fifth. Whiles they each other cross, + Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. Exit + + + + + SCENE 4. + + Other plains of Gascony + + Enter SOMERSET, With his forces; an OFFICER of + TALBOT'S with him + + SOMERSET. It is too late; I cannot send them now. + This expedition was by York and Talbot + Too rashly plotted; all our general force + Might with a sally of the very town + Be buckled with. The over daring Talbot + Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour + By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure. + York set him on to fight and die in shame. + That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name. + OFFICER. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me + Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid. + + Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY + + SOMERSET. How now, Sir William! Whither were you sent? + LUCY. Whither, my lord! From bought and sold Lord + Talbot, + Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, + Cries out for noble York and Somerset + To beat assailing death from his weak legions; + And whiles the honourable captain there + Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs + And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue, + You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour, + Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. + Let not your private discord keep away + The levied succours that should lend him aid, + While he, renowned noble gentleman, + Yield up his life unto a world of odds. + Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy, + Alencon, Reignier, compass him about, + And Talbot perisheth by your default. + SOMERSET. York set him on; York should have sent him aid. + LUCY. And York as fast upon your Grace exclaims, + Swearing that you withhold his levied host, + Collected for this expedition. + SOMERSET. York lies; he might have sent and had the horse. + I owe him little duty and less love, + And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending. + LUCY. The fraud of England, not the force of France, + Hath now entrapp'd the noble minded Talbot. + Never to England shall he bear his life, + But dies betray'd to fortune by your strife. + SOMERSET. Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight; + Within six hours they will be at his aid. + LUCY. Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or slain, + For fly he could not if he would have fled; + And fly would Talbot never, though he might. + SOMERSET. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then, adieu! + LUCY. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. +Exeunt + + + SCENE 5. + + The English camp near Bordeaux + + Enter TALBOT and JOHN his son + + TALBOT. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee + To tutor thee in stratagems of war, + That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd + When sapless age and weak unable limbs + Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. + But, O malignant and ill-boding stars! + Now thou art come unto a feast of death, + A terrible and unavoided danger; + Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse, + And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape + By sudden flight. Come, dally not, be gone. + JOHN. Is my name Talbot, and am I your son? + And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother, + Dishonour not her honourable name, + To make a bastard and a slave of me! + The world will say he is not Talbot's blood + That basely fled when noble Talbot stood. + TALBOT. Fly to revenge my death, if I be slain. + JOHN. He that flies so will ne'er return again. + TALBOT. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. + JOHN. Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly. + Your loss is great, so your regard should be; + My worth unknown, no loss is known in me; + Upon my death the French can little boast; + In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. + Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; + But mine it will, that no exploit have done; + You fled for vantage, every one will swear; + But if I bow, they'll say it was for fear. + There is no hope that ever I will stay + If the first hour I shrink and run away. + Here, on my knee, I beg mortality, + Rather than life preserv'd with infamy. + TALBOT. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? + JOHN. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb. + TALBOT. Upon my blessing I command thee go. + JOHN. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. + TALBOT. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee. + JOHN. No part of him but will be shame in me. + TALBOT. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it. + JOHN. Yes, your renowned name; shall flight abuse it? + TALBOT. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain. + JOHN. You cannot witness for me, being slain. + If death be so apparent, then both fly. + TALBOT. And leave my followers here to fight and die? + My age was never tainted with such shame. + JOHN. And shall my youth be guilty of such blame? + No more can I be severed from your side + Than can yourself yourself yourself in twain divide. + Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I; + For live I will not if my father die. + TALBOT. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, + Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon. + Come, side by side together live and die; + And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 6. + + A field of battle + + Alarum: excursions wherein JOHN TALBOT is hemm'd + about, and TALBOT rescues him + + TALBOT. Saint George and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight. + The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word + And left us to the rage of France his sword. + Where is John Talbot? Pause and take thy breath; + I gave thee life and rescu'd thee from death. + JOHN. O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! + The life thou gav'st me first was lost and done + Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, + To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date. + TALBOT. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck + fire, + It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire + Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age, + Quicken'd with youthful spleen and warlike rage, + Beat down Alencon, Orleans, Burgundy, + And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. + The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood + From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood + Of thy first fight, I soon encountered + And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed + Some of his bastard blood; and in disgrace + Bespoke him thus: 'Contaminated, base, + And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, + Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine + Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.' + Here purposing the Bastard to destroy, + Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care; + Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? + Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, + Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry? + Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead: + The help of one stands me in little stead. + O, too much folly is it, well I wot, + To hazard all our lives in one small boat! + If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage, + To-morrow I shall die with mickle age. + By me they nothing gain an if I stay: + 'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day. + In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, + My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame. + All these and more we hazard by thy stay; + All these are sav'd if thou wilt fly away. + JOHN. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart; + These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart. + On that advantage, bought with such a shame, + To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, + Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, + The coward horse that bears me fall and die! + And like me to the peasant boys of France, + To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance! + Surely, by all the glory you have won, + An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son; + Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; + If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot. + TALBOT. Then follow thou thy desp'rate sire of Crete, + Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. + If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side; + And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 7. + + Another part of the field + + Alarum; excursions. Enter old TALBOT led by a SERVANT + + TALBOT. Where is my other life? Mine own is gone. + O, where's young Talbot? Where is valiant John? + Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity, + Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee. + When he perceiv'd me shrink and on my knee, + His bloody sword he brandish'd over me, + And like a hungry lion did commence + Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience; + But when my angry guardant stood alone, + Tend'ring my ruin and assail'd of none, + Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rage of heart + Suddenly made him from my side to start + Into the clust'ring battle of the French; + And in that sea of blood my boy did drench + His overmounting spirit; and there died, + My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride. + + Enter soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN TALBOT + + SERVANT. O my dear lord, lo where your son is borne! + TALBOT. Thou antic Death, which laugh'st us here to scorn, + Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, + Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, + Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, + In thy despite shall scape mortality. + O thou whose wounds become hard-favoured Death, + Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath! + Brave Death by speaking, whether he will or no; + Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe. + Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should say, + Had Death been French, then Death had died to-day. + Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms. + My spirit can no longer bear these harms. + Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have, + Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. [Dies] + + Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BURGUNDY, BASTARD, + LA PUCELLE, and forces + + CHARLES. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, + We should have found a bloody day of this. + BASTARD. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood, + Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! + PUCELLE. Once I encount'red him, and thus I said: + 'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid.' + But with a proud majestical high scorn + He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born + To be the pillage of a giglot wench.' + So, rushing in the bowels of the French, + He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. + BURGUNDY. Doubtless he would have made a noble knight. + See where he lies inhearsed in the arms + Of the most bloody nurser of his harms! + BASTARD. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder, + Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. + CHARLES. O, no; forbear! For that which we have fled + During the life, let us not wrong it dead. + + Enter SIR WILLIAM Lucy, attended; a FRENCH + HERALD preceding + + LUCY. Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent, + To know who hath obtain'd the glory of the day. + CHARLES. On what submissive message art thou sent? + LUCY. Submission, Dauphin! 'Tis a mere French word: + We English warriors wot not what it means. + I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en, + And to survey the bodies of the dead. + CHARLES. For prisoners ask'st thou? Hell our prison is. + But tell me whom thou seek'st. + LUCY. But where's the great Alcides of the field, + Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, + Created for his rare success in arms + Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence, + Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, + Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton, + Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield, + The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge, + Knight of the noble order of Saint George, + Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece, + Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth + Of all his wars within the realm of France? + PUCELLE. Here's a silly-stately style indeed! + The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath, + Writes not so tedious a style as this. + Him that thou magnifi'st with all these tides, + Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet. + LUCY. Is Talbot slain--the Frenchmen's only scourge, + Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis? + O, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn'd, + That I in rage might shoot them at your faces! + O that I could but call these dead to life! + It were enough to fright the realm of France. + Were but his picture left amongst you here, + It would amaze the proudest of you all. + Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence + And give them burial as beseems their worth. + PUCELLE. I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, + He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. + For God's sake, let him have them; to keep them here, + They would but stink, and putrefy the air. + CHARLES. Go, take their bodies hence. + LUCY. I'll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be + rear'd + A phoenix that shall make all France afeard. + CHARLES. So we be rid of them, do with them what thou + wilt. + And now to Paris in this conquering vein! + All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. Exeunt + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 1. + +London. The palace + +Sennet. Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, and EXETER + + KING HENRY. Have you perus'd the letters from the Pope, + The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac? + GLOUCESTER. I have, my lord; and their intent is this: + They humbly sue unto your Excellence + To have a godly peace concluded of + Between the realms of England and of France. + KING HENRY. How doth your Grace affect their motion? + GLOUCESTER. Well, my good lord, and as the only means + To stop effusion of our Christian blood + And stablish quietness on every side. + KING HENRY. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought + It was both impious and unnatural + That such immanity and bloody strife + Should reign among professors of one faith. + GLOUCESTER. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect + And surer bind this knot of amity, + The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles, + A man of great authority in France, + Proffers his only daughter to your Grace + In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry. + KING HENRY. Marriage, uncle! Alas, my years are young + And fitter is my study and my books + Than wanton dalliance with a paramour. + Yet call th' ambassadors, and, as you please, + So let them have their answers every one. + I shall be well content with any choice + Tends to God's glory and my country's weal. + + Enter in Cardinal's habit + BEAUFORT, the PAPAL LEGATE, and two AMBASSADORS + + EXETER. What! Is my Lord of Winchester install'd + And call'd unto a cardinal's degree? + Then I perceive that will be verified + Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy: + 'If once he come to be a cardinal, + He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.' + KING HENRY. My Lords Ambassadors, your several suits + Have been consider'd and debated on. + Your purpose is both good and reasonable, + And therefore are we certainly resolv'd + To draw conditions of a friendly peace, + Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean + Shall be transported presently to France. + GLOUCESTER. And for the proffer of my lord your master, + I have inform'd his Highness so at large, + As, liking of the lady's virtuous gifts, + Her beauty, and the value of her dower, + He doth intend she shall be England's Queen. + KING HENRY. [To AMBASSADOR] In argument and proof of + which contract, + Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection. + And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded + And safely brought to Dover; where inshipp'd, + Commit them to the fortune of the sea. + + Exeunt all but WINCHESTER and the LEGATE + WINCHESTER. Stay, my Lord Legate; you shall first receive + The sum of money which I promised + Should be delivered to his Holiness + For clothing me in these grave ornaments. + LEGATE. I will attend upon your lordship's leisure. + WINCHESTER. [Aside] Now Winchester will not submit, I + trow, + Or be inferior to the proudest peer. + Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive + That neither in birth or for authority + The Bishop will be overborne by thee. + I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee, + Or sack this country with a mutiny. Exeunt + + + SCENE 2. + + France. Plains in Anjou + + Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, BASTARD, + REIGNIER, LA PUCELLE, and forces + + CHARLES. These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping + spirits: + 'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt + And turn again unto the warlike French. + ALENCON. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, + And keep not back your powers in dalliance. + PUCELLE. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; + Else ruin combat with their palaces! + + Enter a SCOUT + + SCOUT. Success unto our valiant general, + And happiness to his accomplices! + CHARLES. What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak. + SCOUT. The English army, that divided was + Into two parties, is now conjoin'd in one, + And means to give you battle presently. + CHARLES. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; + But we will presently provide for them. + BURGUNDY. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there. + Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. + PUCELLE. Of all base passions fear is most accurs'd. + Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine, + Let Henry fret and all the world repine. + CHARLES. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate! + Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 3. + + Before Angiers + + Alarum, excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE + + PUCELLE. The Regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly. + Now help, ye charming spells and periapts; + And ye choice spirits that admonish me + And give me signs of future accidents; [Thunder] + You speedy helpers that are substitutes + Under the lordly monarch of the north, + Appear and aid me in this enterprise! + + Enter FIENDS + + This speedy and quick appearance argues proof + Of your accustom'd diligence to me. + Now, ye familiar spirits that are cull'd + Out of the powerful regions under earth, + Help me this once, that France may get the field. + [They walk and speak not] + + O, hold me not with silence over-long! + Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, + I'll lop a member off and give it you + In earnest of a further benefit, + So you do condescend to help me now. + [They hang their heads] + No hope to have redress? My body shall + Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit. + [They shake their heads] + Cannot my body nor blood sacrifice + Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? + Then take my soul-my body, soul, and all, + Before that England give the French the foil. + [They depart] + See! they forsake me. Now the time is come + That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest + And let her head fall into England's lap. + My ancient incantations are too weak, + And hell too strong for me to buckle with. + Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. Exit + + + Excursions. Enter French and English, fighting. + LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand; LA PUCELLE + is taken. The French fly + + YORK. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast. + Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms, + And try if they can gain your liberty. + A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace! + See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows + As if, with Circe, she would change my shape! + PUCELLE. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be. + YORK. O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man: + No shape but his can please your dainty eye. + PUCELLE. A plaguing mischief fight on Charles and thee! + And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd + By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds! + YORK. Fell banning hag; enchantress, hold thy tongue. + PUCELLE. I prithee give me leave to curse awhile. + YORK. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. + Exeunt + + Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand + + SUFFOLK. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. + [Gazes on her] + O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly! + For I will touch thee but with reverent hands; + I kiss these fingers for eternal peace, + And lay them gently on thy tender side. + Who art thou? Say, that I may honour thee. + MARGARET. Margaret my name, and daughter to a king, + The King of Naples--whosoe'er thou art. + SUFFOLK. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd. + Be not offended, nature's miracle, + Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me. + So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, + Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings. + Yet, if this servile usage once offend, + Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend. [She is going] + + O, stay! [Aside] I have no power to let her pass; + My hand would free her, but my heart says no. + As plays the sun upon the glassy streams, + Twinkling another counterfeited beam, + So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. + Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak. + I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind. + Fie, de la Pole! disable not thyself; + Hast not a tongue? Is she not here thy prisoner? + Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? + Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such + Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough. + MARGARET. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so, + What ransom must I pay before I pass? + For I perceive I am thy prisoner. + SUFFOLK. [Aside] How canst thou tell she will deny thy + suit, + Before thou make a trial of her love? + MARGARET. Why speak'st thou not? What ransom must I + pay? + SUFFOLK. [Aside] She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; + She is a woman, therefore to be won. + MARGARET. Wilt thou accept of ransom--yea or no? + SUFFOLK. [Aside] Fond man, remember that thou hast a + wife; + Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? + MARGARET. I were best leave him, for he will not hear. + SUFFOLK. [Aside] There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling + card. + MARGARET. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad. + SUFFOLK. [Aside] And yet a dispensation may be had. + MARGARET. And yet I would that you would answer me. + SUFFOLK. [Aside] I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom? + Why, for my King! Tush, that's a wooden thing! + MARGARET. He talks of wood. It is some carpenter. + SUFFOLK. [Aside] Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, + And peace established between these realms. + But there remains a scruple in that too; + For though her father be the King of Naples, + Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, + And our nobility will scorn the match. + MARGARET. Hear ye, Captain--are you not at leisure? + SUFFOLK. [Aside] It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much. + Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield. + Madam, I have a secret to reveal. + MARGARET. [Aside] What though I be enthrall'd? He seems + a knight, + And will not any way dishonour me. + SUFFOLK. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. + MARGARET. [Aside] Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by the French; + And then I need not crave his courtesy. + SUFFOLK. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause-- + MARGARET. [Aside] Tush! women have been captivate ere + now. + SUFFOLK. Lady, wherefore talk you so? + MARGARET. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. + SUFFOLK. Say, gentle Princess, would you not suppose + Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? + MARGARET. To be a queen in bondage is more vile + Than is a slave in base servility; + For princes should be free. + SUFFOLK. And so shall you, + If happy England's royal king be free. + MARGARET. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? + SUFFOLK. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen, + To put a golden sceptre in thy hand + And set a precious crown upon thy head, + If thou wilt condescend to be my-- + MARGARET. What? + SUFFOLK. His love. + MARGARET. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. + SUFFOLK. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am + To woo so fair a dame to be his wife + And have no portion in the choice myself. + How say you, madam? Are ye so content? + MARGARET. An if my father please, I am content. + SUFFOLK. Then call our captains and our colours forth! + And, madam, at your father's castle walls + We'll crave a parley to confer with him. + + Sound a parley. Enter REIGNIER on the walls + + See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner! + REIGNIER. To whom? + SUFFOLK. To me. + REIGNIER. Suffolk, what remedy? + I am a soldier and unapt to weep + Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. + SUFFOLK. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord. + Consent, and for thy honour give consent, + Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king, + Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto; + And this her easy-held imprisonment + Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty. + REIGNIER. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks? + SUFFOLK. Fair Margaret knows + That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. + REIGNIER. Upon thy princely warrant I descend + To give thee answer of thy just demand. + Exit REIGNIER from the walls + + SUFFOLK. And here I will expect thy coming. + + Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER below + + REIGNIER. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories; + Command in Anjou what your Honour pleases. + SUFFOLK. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child, + Fit to be made companion with a king. + What answer makes your Grace unto my suit? + REIGNIER. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth + To be the princely bride of such a lord, + Upon condition I may quietly + Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou, + Free from oppression or the stroke of war, + My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please. + SUFFOLK. That is her ransom; I deliver her. + And those two counties I will undertake + Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy. + REIGNIER. And I again, in Henry's royal name, + As deputy unto that gracious king, + Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith. + SUFFOLK. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks, + Because this is in traffic of a king. + [Aside] And yet, methinks, I could be well content + To be mine own attorney in this case. + I'll over then to England with this news, + And make this marriage to be solemniz'd. + So, farewell, Reignier. Set this diamond safe + In golden palaces, as it becomes. + REIGNIER. I do embrace thee as I would embrace + The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here. + MARGARET. Farewell, my lord. Good wishes, praise, and + prayers, + Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [She is going] + SUFFOLK. Farewell, sweet madam. But hark you, Margaret + No princely commendations to my king? + MARGARET. Such commendations as becomes a maid, + A virgin, and his servant, say to him. + SUFFOLK. Words sweetly plac'd and modestly directed. + But, madam, I must trouble you again + No loving token to his Majesty? + MARGARET. Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart, + Never yet taint with love, I send the King. + SUFFOLK. And this withal. [Kisses her] + MARGARET. That for thyself, I will not so presume + To send such peevish tokens to a king. + Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET + SUFFOLK. O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay; + Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth: + There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk. + Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise. + Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount, + And natural graces that extinguish art; + Repeat their semblance often on the seas, + That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, + Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder. Exit + + + + + SCENE 4. + + Camp of the DUKE OF YORK in Anjou + + Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others + + YORK. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn. + + Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a SHEPHERD + + SHEPHERD. Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright! + Have I sought every country far and near, + And, now it is my chance to find thee out, + Must I behold thy timeless cruel death? + Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee! + PUCELLE. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch! + I am descended of a gentler blood; + Thou art no father nor no friend of mine. + SHEPHERD. Out, out! My lords, an please you, 'tis not so; + I did beget her, all the parish knows. + Her mother liveth yet, can testify + She was the first fruit of my bach'lorship. + WARWICK. Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage? + YORK. This argues what her kind of life hath been-- + Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. + SHEPHERD. Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle! + God knows thou art a collop of my flesh; + And for thy sake have I shed many a tear. + Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan. + PUCELLE. Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man + Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. + SHEPHERD. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest + The morn that I was wedded to her mother. + Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl. + Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time + Of thy nativity. I would the milk + Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'dst her breast + Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake. + Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield, + I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee. + Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab? + O, burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good. Exit + YORK. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long, + To fill the world with vicious qualities. + PUCELLE. First let me tell you whom you have condemn'd: + Not me begotten of a shepherd swain, + But issued from the progeny of kings; + Virtuous and holy, chosen from above + By inspiration of celestial grace, + To work exceeding miracles on earth. + I never had to do with wicked spirits. + But you, that are polluted with your lusts, + Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents, + Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices, + Because you want the grace that others have, + You judge it straight a thing impossible + To compass wonders but by help of devils. + No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been + A virgin from her tender infancy, + Chaste and immaculate in very thought; + Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd, + Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven. + YORK. Ay, ay. Away with her to execution! + WARWICK. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid, + Spare for no fagots, let there be enow. + Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, + That so her torture may be shortened. + PUCELLE. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts? + Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity + That warranteth by law to be thy privilege: + I am with child, ye bloody homicides; + Murder not then the fruit within my womb, + Although ye hale me to a violent death. + YORK. Now heaven forfend! The holy maid with child! + WARWICK. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought: + Is all your strict preciseness come to this? + YORK. She and the Dauphin have been juggling. + I did imagine what would be her refuge. + WARWICK. Well, go to; we'll have no bastards live; + Especially since Charles must father it. + PUCELLE. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his: + It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love. + YORK. Alencon, that notorious Machiavel! + It dies, an if it had a thousand lives. + PUCELLE. O, give me leave, I have deluded you. + 'Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I nam'd, + But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevail'd. + WARWICK. A married man! That's most intolerable. + YORK. Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well + There were so many--whom she may accuse. + WARWICK. It's sign she hath been liberal and free. + YORK. And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure. + Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee. + Use no entreaty, for it is in vain. + PUCELLE. Then lead me hence--with whom I leave my + curse: + May never glorious sun reflex his beams + Upon the country where you make abode; + But darkness and the gloomy shade of death + Environ you, till mischief and despair + Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves! + Exit, guarded + YORK. Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes, + Thou foul accursed minister of hell! + + Enter CARDINAL BEAUFORT, attended + + CARDINAL. Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence + With letters of commission from the King. + For know, my lords, the states of Christendom, + Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils, + Have earnestly implor'd a general peace + Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French; + And here at hand the Dauphin and his train + Approacheth, to confer about some matter. + YORK. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect? + After the slaughter of so many peers, + So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers, + That in this quarrel have been overthrown + And sold their bodies for their country's benefit, + Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace? + Have we not lost most part of all the towns, + By treason, falsehood, and by treachery, + Our great progenitors had conquered? + O Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief + The utter loss of all the realm of France. + WARWICK. Be patient, York. If we conclude a peace, + It shall be with such strict and severe covenants + As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. + + Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BASTARD, REIGNIER, and others + + CHARLES. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed + That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France, + We come to be informed by yourselves + What the conditions of that league must be. + YORK. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes + The hollow passage of my poison'd voice, + By sight of these our baleful enemies. + CARDINAL. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus: + That, in regard King Henry gives consent, + Of mere compassion and of lenity, + To ease your country of distressful war, + An suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace, + You shall become true liegemen to his crown; + And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear + To pay him tribute and submit thyself, + Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him, + And still enjoy thy regal dignity. + ALENCON. Must he be then as shadow of himself? + Adorn his temples with a coronet + And yet, in substance and authority, + Retain but privilege of a private man? + This proffer is absurd and reasonless. + CHARLES. 'Tis known already that I am possess'd + With more than half the Gallian territories, + And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king. + Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd, + Detract so much from that prerogative + As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole? + No, Lord Ambassador; I'll rather keep + That which I have than, coveting for more, + Be cast from possibility of all. + YORK. Insulting Charles! Hast thou by secret means + Us'd intercession to obtain a league, + And now the matter grows to compromise + Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison? + Either accept the title thou usurp'st, + Of benefit proceeding from our king + And not of any challenge of desert, + Or we will plague thee with incessant wars. + REIGNIER. [To CHARLES] My lord, you do not well in + obstinacy + To cavil in the course of this contract. + If once it be neglected, ten to one + We shall not find like opportunity. + ALENCON. [To CHARLES] To say the truth, it is your policy + To save your subjects from such massacre + And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen + By our proceeding in hostility; + And therefore take this compact of a truce, + Although you break it when your pleasure serves. + WARWICK. How say'st thou, Charles? Shall our condition + stand? + CHARLES. It shall; + Only reserv'd, you claim no interest + In any of our towns of garrison. + YORK. Then swear allegiance to his Majesty: + As thou art knight, never to disobey + Nor be rebellious to the crown of England + Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England. + [CHARLES and the rest give tokens of fealty] + So, now dismiss your army when ye please; + Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still, + For here we entertain a solemn peace. Exeunt + + + + + SCENE 5. + + London. The palace + + Enter SUFFOLK, in conference with the KING, + GLOUCESTER and EXETER + + KING HENRY. Your wondrous rare description, noble Earl, + Of beauteous Margaret hath astonish'd me. + Her virtues, graced with external gifts, + Do breed love's settled passions in my heart; + And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts + Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, + So am I driven by breath of her renown + Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive + Where I may have fruition of her love. + SUFFOLK. Tush, my good lord! This superficial tale + Is but a preface of her worthy praise. + The chief perfections of that lovely dame, + Had I sufficient skill to utter them, + Would make a volume of enticing lines, + Able to ravish any dull conceit; + And, which is more, she is not so divine, + So full-replete with choice of all delights, + But with as humble lowliness of mind + She is content to be at your command + Command, I mean, of virtuous intents, + To love and honour Henry as her lord. + KING HENRY. And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume. + Therefore, my Lord Protector, give consent + That Margaret may be England's royal Queen. + GLOUCESTER. So should I give consent to flatter sin. + You know, my lord, your Highness is betroth'd + Unto another lady of esteem. + How shall we then dispense with that contract, + And not deface your honour with reproach? + SUFFOLK. As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths; + Or one that at a triumph, having vow'd + To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists + By reason of his adversary's odds: + A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds, + And therefore may be broke without offence. + GLOUCESTER. Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than + that? + Her father is no better than an earl, + Although in glorious titles he excel. + SUFFOLK. Yes, my lord, her father is a king, + The King of Naples and Jerusalem; + And of such great authority in France + As his alliance will confirm our peace, + And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance. + GLOUCESTER. And so the Earl of Armagnac may do, + Because he is near kinsman unto Charles. + EXETER. Beside, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower; + Where Reignier sooner will receive than give. + SUFFOLK. A dow'r, my lords! Disgrace not so your king, + That he should be so abject, base, and poor, + To choose for wealth and not for perfect love. + Henry is able to enrich his queen, + And not to seek a queen to make him rich. + So worthless peasants bargain for their wives, + As market-men for oxen, sheep, or horse. + Marriage is a matter of more worth + Than to be dealt in by attorneyship; + Not whom we will, but whom his Grace affects, + Must be companion of his nuptial bed. + And therefore, lords, since he affects her most, + It most of all these reasons bindeth us + In our opinions she should be preferr'd; + For what is wedlock forced but a hell, + An age of discord and continual strife? + Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, + And is a pattern of celestial peace. + Whom should we match with Henry, being a king, + But Margaret, that is daughter to a king? + Her peerless feature, joined with her birth, + Approves her fit for none but for a king; + Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit, + More than in women commonly is seen, + Will answer our hope in issue of a king; + For Henry, son unto a conqueror, + Is likely to beget more conquerors, + If with a lady of so high resolve + As is fair Margaret he be link'd in love. + Then yield, my lords; and here conclude with me + That Margaret shall be Queen, and none but she. + KING HENRY. Whether it be through force of your report, + My noble Lord of Suffolk, or for that + My tender youth was never yet attaint + With any passion of inflaming love, + I cannot tell; but this I am assur'd, + I feel such sharp dissension in my breast, + Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear, + As I am sick with working of my thoughts. + Take therefore shipping; post, my lord, to France; + Agree to any covenants; and procure + That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come + To cross the seas to England, and be crown'd + King Henry's faithful and anointed queen. + For your expenses and sufficient charge, + Among the people gather up a tenth. + Be gone, I say; for till you do return + I rest perplexed with a thousand cares. + And you, good uncle, banish all offence: + If you do censure me by what you were, + Not what you are, I know it will excuse + This sudden execution of my will. + And so conduct me where, from company, + I may revolve and ruminate my grief. Exit + GLOUCESTER. Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. + Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EXETER + SUFFOLK. Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd; and thus he goes, + As did the youthful Paris once to Greece, + With hope to find the like event in love + But prosper better than the Troyan did. + Margaret shall now be Queen, and rule the King; + But I will rule both her, the King, and realm. Exit + + +THE END + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HENRY VI, PART 1 *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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