Henry VI Part 1/Source

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):


 * 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, afterwards Duke, of Somerset
 * 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 Shrewbury
 * JOHN TALBOT, his son
 * EDMUND MORTIMER, Earl of March
 * SIR JOHN FASTOLFE
 * SIR WILLIAM LUCY
 * SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE
 * SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE
 * Mayor of London
 * WOODVILE, Lieutenant of the Tower
 * VERNON, of the White-Rose or York faction
 * BASSET, of the Red-Rose or Lancaster faction
 * A Lawyer, Mortimer's Keepers


 * 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, and Attendants


 * Fiends appearing to La Pucelle

SCENE: Partly in England, and partly in France

The First Part of King Henry VI

SCENE I 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, Heralds, &c.]

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 over-awe.

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 eyes babes shall suck,
 * Our isle be made a marish 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 lingering 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 to them another Messenger.]

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 another Messenger.]

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?

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 every where, 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.

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.

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 the 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.
 * 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 II. France. Before Orleans
[Sound a Flourish. Enter Charles, 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 gimmors 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 amazed, 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 pleased
 * 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 promised and assured success:
 * In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
 * And, whereas I was black and swart before,
 * With those clear rays which she infused 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 prepared: here is my keen-edg'd sword,
 * Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side,
 * The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's church-yard,
 * 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 subdued.
 * 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 over 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 honors;
 * Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized.

CHARLES.
 * Presently we 'll try: come, let's away about it:
 * No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. London. Before the Tower.
[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 Woodvile the Lieutenant speaks within.]

WOODVILE.
 * 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.

WOODVILE.
 * 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 Woodvile, 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 contrivedst to murder our dead lord;
 * Thou that givest 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 darest; I beard thee to thy face.

GLOUCESTER.
 * What! am I dared 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.
 * 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 will 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 Serving-men.]

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 IV. Orleans.
[Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy.]

MASTER GUNNER.
 * Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged,
 * 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 ruled 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 placed;
 * 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, on the turrets, the Lords Salisbury and Talbot, 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 Duke of Bedford had a prisoner
 * Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles;
 * For him was I exchanged 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 desired.
 * 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 produced 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 supposed 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 endured,
 * But we will be revenged 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 battery 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. Salisbury and Gargrave fall.]

SALISBURY.
 * O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!

GARGRAVE.
 * O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man!

TALBOT.
 * What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
 * Speak, Salisbury: at least, if thou canst speak:
 * How farest thou, mirror of all martial men?
 * One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!
 * Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
 * That hath contrived this woful 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 thy 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 revenged.
 * 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 V. The same.
[Here an alarum again: and Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him:  then enter Joan La Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them: then re-enter Talbot.]

TALBOT.
 * Where is my strength, my valor, and my force?
 * Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them:
 * A woman clad in armour chaseth them.

[Re-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 servest.

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; flourish.]

SCENE VI. The Same.
[Enter, on the walls, La Pucelle, Charles, Reignier, Alencon, and Soldiers.]

PUCELLE.
 * Advance our waving colours on the walls;
 * Rescued 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.]

SCENE I. Before Orleans.
[Enter a Sergeant of a band, with 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 caroused 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 practice 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.

SENTINEL.
 * Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault!

[Cry: 'St George,' 'A Talbot.']

[The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the Bastard of Orleans, Alencon, and Reignier, half ready, and half unready.]

ALENCON.
 * How now, my lords! what, all unready so?

BASTARD.
 * Unready! aye, 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, favor him.

ALENCON.
 * Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.

BASTARD.
 * Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard.

[Enter Charles and La Pucelle.]

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 surprised.

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 dispersed,
 * 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 II. 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 happen'd 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 engraved 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 vapors of the night,
 * Am sure I scared 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 over-ruled:
 * And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
 * And in submission will attend on her.
 * Will not your honors bear me company?

BEDFORD.
 * No, truly; it is 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 III. Auvergne. The Countess's 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.

[Exit.]

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 rumor 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 desired,
 * By message craved, 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 the 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.

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 practice 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 deceived, 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 gather'd 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 misconstrue
 * 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 honored
 * To feast so great a warrior in my house.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. 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 the 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 honor 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.
 * Unless my study and my books be false,
 * The argument you held was wrong in you;

[To Somerset.]


 * 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 restored, 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 ripen'd 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 colors 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 braved and must perforce endure it!

WARWICK.
 * This blot that they object against your house
 * Shall be wiped 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 V. The Tower of London.
[Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Jailers.]

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 gray 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 wither'd 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 JAILER.
 * 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 obscured,
 * Deprived 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 expired,
 * That so he might recover what was lost.

[Enter Richard Plantagenet.]

FIRST JAILER.
 * My lord, your loving nephew now is come.

MORTIMER.
 * Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?

PLANTAGENET.
 * Aye, noble uncle, thus ignobly used,
 * 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 despised?

PLANTAGENET.
 * First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
 * And, in that case, 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 used 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 honor 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 flowering 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,
 * Deposed 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 moved these warlike lords to this
 * Was, for that—young King Richard thus removed,
 * 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 labored 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 derived
 * 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 honor 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 removed.
 * 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 Jailers, bearing out the body of Mortimer.]


 * Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
 * Choked 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 the advantage of my good.

[Exit.]

SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house.
[Flourish. Enter 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, tears it.]

WINCHESTER.
 * Comest thou with deep premeditated lines,
 * With written pamphlets studiously devised,
 * Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse,
 * Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge.
 * Do it without invention, suddenly;
 * As 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 dishonor'd me.
 * Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
 * The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
 * That therefore I have forged, 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 are 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 provoked.
 * No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
 * It is not that that hath incensed 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.
 * Aye, 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 Gloster!

GLOUCESTER.
 * Thou art reverent
 * 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.
 * 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 Mayor.]

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 Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates.]

KING.
 * We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
 * To hold your slaughtering 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 slaughter'd by thy foes.

FIRST SERVING-MAN.
 * Aye, 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.
 * 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.
 * 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] Aye, 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.
 * 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 Serving-men, Mayor, &C.]

WARWICK.
 * Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign;
 * Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet.
 * We do exhibit to your majesty.

GLOUCESTER.
 * Well urged, 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.
 * 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 recompensed.

WINCHESTER.
 * As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.

KING.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * Aye, 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 forged 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 named the fifth
 * Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
 * That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
 * And Henry born at Windsor lose all:
 * Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish
 * His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Exit.]

SCENE II. France. Before Rouen.
[Enter La Pucelle disguised, with four Soldiers 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.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alencon, Reignier, and forces.]

CHARLES.
 * Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem!
 * And once again we 'll sleep secure in Rouen.

BASTARD.
 * Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants;
 * Now she is there, how will she specify
 * Here is the best and safest passage in?

REIGNIER.
 * 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 enter'd.

[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!

REIGNIER.
 * 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 escaped 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 will you do, good graybeard? 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? 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 muleters 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 be wi' you, 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 honor 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 dishonor 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 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 fly, and leave Lord Talbot?

FASTOLFE.
 * Aye,
 * All the Talbots in the world, to save my life.

[Exit.]

CAPTAIN.
 * Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee!

[Exit.]

[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 recover'd in a day again!
 * This is a double honor, 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 valor'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 deceased,
 * 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 III. The plains near Rouen.
[Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, 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 ruled.

CHARLES.
 * We have been 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 reverenced 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 sugar'd words
 * We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
 * To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

CHARLES.
 * Aye, 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 expulsed 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 colors spread,
 * And all the troops of English after him.

[French march. Enter the Duke of Burgundy and forces.]


 * Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
 * Fortune in favor 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 defaced
 * 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 woful 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.
 * [Aside] Done like a Frenchman: 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 IV. Paris. The palace.
[Enter the King, Gloucester, Bishop of 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.
 * 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.
 * 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 colors that I wear
 * In honor of my noble Lord of York:—
 * Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spakest?

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 honor 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 know'st 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.]

SCENE I. Paris. A hall of state.
[Enter the King, Gloucester, Bishop of 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,
 * 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!

[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 the 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 surprised 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 honorable 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.
 * 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.
 * What means his grace,
 * that he hath changed 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,
 * Moved 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.
 * What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?

GLOUCESTER.
 * He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.

KING.
 * Is that the worst this letter doth contain?

GLOUCESTER.
 * It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.

KING.
 * 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.
 * 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, favor him.

KING.
 * 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.
 * 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
 * Argued 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 provoked 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.
 * 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 honorable lord.

GLOUCESTER.
 * Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife!
 * And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
 * Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed
 * 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.
 * Come hither, you that would be combatants:
 * Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favor,
 * 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 provoked
 * To willful 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 and 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 imagined or supposed.
 * 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 favorites,
 * But that it doth presage some ill event.
 * Tis much when scepters are in children's hands;
 * But more when envy breeds unkind division;
 * There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.

[Exit.]

SCENE II. Before Bordeaux.
[Enter Talbot, with trump and drum.]

TALBOT.
 * Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter:
 * Summon their general unto the wall.

[Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others, aloft.]


 * 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.
 * 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 colored,
 * Shall see thee wither'd, 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.

[Exeunt General, etc.]

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,
 * Mazed 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 colors in this dangerous fight!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Plains in Gascony.
[Enter a Messenger that meets York. Enter York with trumpet and many soldiers.]

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 lowted 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 honor.

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 succor 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 sunder'd 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 his soldiers.]

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, honors, lands and all hurry to loss.

[Exit.]

SCENE IV. Other plains in Gascony.
[Enter Somerset, with his army; a Captain 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 honor
 * 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.

CAPTAIN.
 * 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 honorable captain there
 * Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
 * And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
 * You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
 * Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
 * Let not your private discord keep away
 * The levied succors 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 V. 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 revived
 * 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,
 * Dishonor not her honorable 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 honor 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 preserved with infamy.

TALBOT.
 * Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?

JOHN.
 * Aye, 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 saved 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 sever'd from your side,
 * Than can 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 VI. A field of battle.
[Alarum: excursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hemmed 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 rescued thee from death.

JOHN.
 * O, twice my father, twice am I thy son!
 * The life thou gavest me first was lost and done,
 * Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
 * To my determined time thou gavest 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-faced 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 saved 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 desperate sire of Crete,
 * Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:
 * If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
 * And, commendable proved, let 's die in pride.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VII. 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 valor makes me smile at thee:
 * When he perceived 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,
 * Tendering 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 clustering battle of the French;
 * And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
 * His over-mounting spirit, and there died,
 * My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.

SERVANT.
 * O my dear lord, lo where your son is borne!

[Enter soldiers, with the body of young Talbot.]

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-favor'd 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 encounter'd 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; Herald of the French 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 magnifiest with all these titles
 * Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.

LUCY.
 * Is Talbot slain, the Frenchman'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 can 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 'em; to keep them here,
 * They would but stink, and putrify 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 'em what thou wilt.
 * And now to Paris, in this conquering vein:
 * All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. London. The palace.
[Sennet. Enter King, Gloucester, and Exeter.]

KING.
 * Have you perused 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.
 * 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.
 * Aye, 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.
 * Marriage, uncle! alas, my years are young!
 * And fitter is my study and my books
 * Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
 * Yet call the 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 Winchester in Cardinal's habit, a 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.
 * 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 resolved
 * 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.
 * 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 Legate.]

WINCHESTER.
 * Stay my lord legate: you shall first receive
 * The sum of money which I promised
 * Should be deliver'd 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 II. 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 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 accursed.
 * 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 III. 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. Re-enter La Pucelle fighting hand to hand with York: 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 light on Charles and thee!
 * And may ye both be suddenly surprised
 * 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 honor 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! 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?
 * Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
 * Aye, 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.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.

MARGARET.
 * He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.

SUFFOLK.
 * And yet a dispensation may be had.

MARGARET.
 * And yet I would that you would answer me.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * 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.
 * What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a knight,
 * And will not any way dishonor me.

SUFFOLK.
 * Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

MARGARET.
 * Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French;
 * And then I need not crave his courtesy.

SUFFOLK.
 * Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause—

MARGARET.
 * 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 scepter 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 captain and our colors forth.
 * And, madam, at your father's castle walls
 * We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.

[A parley sounded. 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 honor 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 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 honor 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 solemnized.
 * 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. [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 placed 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 comest to kneel at Henry's feet,
 * Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder.

[Exit.]

SCENE IV. 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, as 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 bachelorship.

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 a-field,
 * 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 lived 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 effused,
 * Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

YORK.
 * Aye, aye: away with her to execution!

WARWICK.
 * And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
 * Spare for no faggots, 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 deceived; 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 named,
 * 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, Bishop of Winchester, attended.]

CARDINAL.
 * Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
 * With letters of commission from the king.
 * For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
 * Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils,
 * Have earnestly implored 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,
 * And 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 placed as viceroy under him,
 * And still enjoy the 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 reverenced 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
 * Used 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.
 * 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 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.
 * 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 V. London. The royal palace.
[Enter Suffolk in conference with the King, Gloucester and Exeter.]

KING.
 * 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 rigor 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 honor Henry as her lord.

KING.
 * 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 honor 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 offense.

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 dower, 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.
 * 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 assured,
 * 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 offense:
 * 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.
 * Aye, 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.]