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  • Title: Henry VI, Part 1 (Modern)
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    Author: William Shakespeare
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    Henry VI, Part 1 (Modern)

    Dead March. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended on by the Duke of Bedford (Regent of France) the Duke5 of Gloucester (Protector), the Duke of Exeter [the Earl of] Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset.
    Hung be the heavens with black. Yield day to night.
    10Comets, 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.
    15England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
    England ne'er had a king until his time:
    Virtue he had, deserving to command.
    His brandished sword did blind men with his beams.
    His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings.
    20His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
    More dazzled and drove back his enemies
    Than midday sun, fierce bent against their faces.
    What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech.
    He ne'er lift up his hand, but conquerèd.
    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 dishonorable victory,
    We with our stately presence glorify
    30Like 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,
    35By magic verses have contrived his end?
    He was a king, blest 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.
    40The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.
    The Church? Where is it?
    Had not churchmen prayed,
    His thread of life had not so soon decayed.
    None do you like but an effeminate prince,
    45Whom like a schoolboy you may overawe.
    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.
    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.
    Cease, cease these jars, and rest your minds in peace.
    Let's to the altar. Heralds wait on us.
    55Instead 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 mother's moistened eyes, babes shall suck,
    Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
    60And 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
    65Than Julius Caesar, or bright--
    Enter a Messenger.
    1 Messenger
    My honorable lords, health to you all.
    Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
    Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture.
    70Guyenne, Campiègne, Rouen, Reims, OrlĂ©ans,
    Paris, Gisors, Poitiers, are all quite lost.
    What sayst thou, man, before dead Henry's corpse?
    Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
    Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
    Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?
    If Henry were recalled to life again,
    These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.
    How were they lost? What treachery was used?
    1 Messenger
    No treachery, but want of men and money.
    80Amongst the soldiers this is mutterèd:
    That here you maintain several factions,
    And whilst a field should be dispatched and fought,
    You are disputing of your generals.
    One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost;
    85Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
    A third thinks, without expense at all,
    By guileful fair words peace may be obtained.
    Awake, awake, English nobility.
    Let not sloth dim your honors new-begot.
    90Cropped are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
    Of England's coat, one half is cut away.
    Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
    These tidings would call forth her flowing tides.
    Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
    95Give me my steelèd 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 [with letters].
    1002 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 crownèd king in Reims;
    The Bastard of Orléans with him is joined;
    105Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
    The Duke of Alencon flyeth to his side.
    The Dauphin crownèd King? All fly to him?
    O whither shall we fly from this reproach?
    We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
    110Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
    Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
    An army have I mustered in my thoughts,
    Wherewith already France is overrun.
    Enter another Messenger.
    1153 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.
    What, wherein Talbot overcame, is't so?
    1203 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 Orléans,
    Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,
    125By three-and-twenty thousand of the French
    Was round encompassèd and set upon.
    No leisure had he to enrank his men.
    He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
    Instead whereof, sharp stakes plucked out of hedges
    130They pitchèd in the ground confusèdly,
    To keep the horsemen off, from breaking in.
    More than three hours the fight continuèd:
    Where valiant Talbot, above human thought,
    Enacted wonders with his sword and lance.
    135Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
    Here, there, and everywhere, enraged he slew.
    The French exclaimed the devil was in arms,
    All the whole army stood agazed on him.
    His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit,
    140"A Talbot! A Talbot!" cried out amain,
    And rushed into the bowels of the battle.
    Here had the conquest fully been sealed up,
    If Sir John Falstaff had not played the coward.
    He being in the vayward placed behind,
    145With purpose to relieve and follow them,
    Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
    Hence grew the general wrack and massacre:
    Enclosèd were they with their enemies.
    A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
    150Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
    Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength,
    Durst not presume to look once in the face.
    Is Talbot slain then? I will slay myself,
    For living idly here in pomp and ease
    155Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
    Unto his dastard foemen is betrayed.
    3 Messenger
    O no, he lives, but is took prisoner,
    And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford;
    Most of the rest slaughtered, or took likewise.
    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.
    165Bonfires 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 all Europe quake.
    3 Messenger
    So you had need, for Orléans is besieged,
    170The 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.
    Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn:
    175Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
    Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.
    I do remember it, and here take my leave
    To go about my preparation.
    Exit Bedford.
    I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can,
    180To view th'artillery and munition,
    And then I will proclaim young Henry king.
    Exit Gloucester.
    To Eltham will I, where the young King is,
    Being ordained his special governor,
    185And for his safety there I'll best devise.
    Exit [Exeter].
    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 send,
    190And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.
    Exit [Winchester].
    Sound a Flourish. Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the Duke of] Alencon, and Reignier [Duke of Anjou], marching with Drum[mer] and Soldiers.
    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?
    200At pleasure here we lie near Orléans
    Otherwhiles, the famished English, like pale ghosts,
    Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
    They want their porridge and their fat bull beeves.
    Either they must be dieted like mules,
    205And have their provender tied to their mouths,
    Or piteous they will look, like drownèd mice.
    Let's raise the siege. Why live we idly here?
    Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear.
    Remaineth none but mad-brained Salisbury,
    210And he may well in fretting spend his gall:
    Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
    Sound, sound alarum. We will rush on them.
    Now for the honor of the forlorn French,
    Him I forgive my death that killeth me
    215When he sees me go back one foot, or flee.
    Here alarum. They [the French] are beaten back by the English, with great loss. Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the Duke of] Alencon, and Reignier [Duke of Anjou].
    Who ever saw the like? What men have I?
    220Dogs, cowards, dastards. I would ne'er have fled,
    But that they left me 'midst my enemies.
    Salisbury is a desperate homicide.
    He fighteth as one weary of his life.
    The other lords, like lions wanting food,
    225Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
    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,
    230For none but Samsons and Goliasses
    It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten?
    Lean raw-boned rascals, who would e'er suppose
    They had such courage and audacity?
    Let's leave this town, 235for they are hare-brained 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.
    I think by some odd gimmers or device
    240Their 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.
    Be it so.
    Enter the Bastard of Orléans.
    Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
    Bastard of Orléans, thrice welcome to us.
    Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appalled.
    Hath the late overthrow wrought this offense?
    250Be not dismayed, for succor is at hand.
    A holy maid hither with me I bring,
    Which, by a vision sent to her from heaven,
    Ordainèd is to raise this tedious siege
    And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
    255The 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.
    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.
    Enter [the Bastard of Orléans with] Joan [la] Pucelle [bearing sword.]
    [As Charles.] Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
    Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
    Where is the Dauphin? [To Charles.] Come, come from behind.
    I know thee well, though never seen before.
    270Be not amazed. There's nothing hid from me.
    In private will I talk with thee apart.
    Stand back you lords, and give us leave a while.
    [Reignier, Alencon, and Bastard stand apart.]
    [To Alencon and Bastard.] She takes upon her bravely, at first dash.
    Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter.
    275My wit untrained 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 displayed my cheeks,
    280God's mother deignèd to appear to me,
    And in a vision, full of majesty,
    Willed me to leave my base vocation
    And free my country from calamity.
    Her aid she promised, and assured success.
    285In complete glory she revealed herself;
    And whereas I was black and swart before,
    With those clear rays which she infused on me
    That beauty am I blest with, which you may see.
    Ask me what question thou canst possible,
    290And 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.
    Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms.
    Only this proof I'll of thy valor make:
    In single combat thou shalt buckle with me.
    And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
    Otherwise, I renounce all confidence.
    I am prepared. Here is my keen-edged sword,
    Decked with five flower-de-luces on each side;
    The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine's churchyard,
    Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
    Then come a God's name, I fear no woman.
    And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.
    Here they fight, and Joan [la] Pucelle overcomes.
    Stay, stay thy hands. Thou art an Amazon,
    And fightest with the sword of Deborah.
    Christ's mother helps me, else I were too 310weak.
    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,
    315Let me thy servant, and not sovereign be.
    'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.
    I must not yield to any rights of love,
    For my profession's sacred from above.
    When I have chasèd all thy foes from hence,
    320Then will I think upon a recompense.
    Meantime, look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.
    [To the other lords apart.] My Lord methinks is very long in talk.
    Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock,
    325Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.
    Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?
    He may mean more then we poor men do know.
    These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
    [To Charles.] My Lord, where are you? What devise you on?
    Shall we give o'er Orléans, or no?
    Why, no, I say. Distrustful recreants,
    Fight till the last gasp; I'll be your guard.
    What she says, I'll confirm. We'll fight 335it out.
    Assigned am I to be the English scourge.
    This night the siege assurèdly I'll raise.
    Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon's days,
    Since I have enterèd into these wars.
    340Glory is like a circle in the water,
    Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
    Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
    With Henry's death, the English circle ends.
    Dispersèd are the glories it included.
    345Now am I like that proud insulting ship
    Which Caesar and his fortune bore at once.
    Was Muhammed inspirèd with a dove?
    Thou with an eagle art inspirèd then.
    Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
    350Nor 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?
    Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
    Woman, do what thou canst to save our honors.
    Drive them from Orléans, and be immortalized.
    Presently we'll try. Come, let's away about it.
    No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.
    Enter [the Duke of] Gloucester, with his Servingmen [in blue coats].
    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?
    [1 Servingman knocks on gates.] Open the gates, 'tis Gloucester that calls.
    1 Warder
    [Within the Tower.] Who's there, that knocks so imperiously?
    3651 Servingman
    It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.
    2 Warder
    [Within the Tower.] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in.
    1 Servingman
    Villains, answer you so the Lord Protector?
    1 Warder
    [Within the Tower.] The Lord protect him, so we answer him.
    We do no otherwise then we are willed.
    Who willèd you? Or whose will stands, but mine?
    There's none Protector of the realm but I.
    [To Servingmen.] Break up the gates. I'll be your warrantize.
    Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms?
    Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and Woodville 375the [Tower's] Lieutenant speaks within.
    [Within the Tower.] What noise is this? What traitors have we here?
    Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?
    Open the gates, here's Gloucester that would enter.
    [Within the Tower.] Have patience noble duke: I may not open.
    The Cardinal of Winchester forbids.
    From him I have express commandèment,
    That thou, nor none of thine, shall be let in.
    Faint-hearted Woodville. Prizest him 'fore me?
    385Arrogant 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.
    Open the gates unto the Lord Protector,
    390Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.
    Enter to the [Lord] Protector at the Tower Gates, [the Bishop of] Winchester and his men in tawny coats.
    How now ambitious Humphrey. What means this?
    Peeled priest, dost thou command me to be shut out?
    I do, thou most usurping proditor,
    And not Protector of the King or realm.
    Stand back thou manifest conspirator.
    400Thou that contrived'st to murder our dead lord,
    Thou that giv'st whores indulgences to sin,
    I'll canvas thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
    If thou proceed in this thy insolence.
    Nay, stand thou back. I will not budge a foot.
    405This be Damascus, be thou cursèd Cain,
    To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.
    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.
    Do what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face.
    What? Am I dared and bearded to my face?
    Draw men, for all this privilegèd place.
    [All draw their swords.]
    Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard.
    415I 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.
    Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the 420Pope.
    Winchester goose, I cry, "A rope, a rope".
    [To his Servingmen.] Now beat them hence. Why do you let them stay?
    [To Winchester.] Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.
    Out tawny coats. Out scarlet hypocrite.
    425 Here Gloucester's men beat out the Cardinal's men, and enter[ing] in the hurly-burly, the Mayor of London, and his Officers.
    Fie, lords, that you being supreme magistrates,
    Thus contumeliously should break the peace.
    Peace, mayor, thou know'st little of my wrongs.
    Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king,
    Hath here distrained the Tower to his use.
    [To Mayor.] Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens,
    One that still motions war, and never peace,
    435O'ercharging your free purses with large fines,
    That seeks to overthrow religion,
    Because he is Protector of the realm;
    And would have armor here out of the Tower
    To crown himself king and suppress the Prince.
    I will not answer thee with words but blows.
    Here they [the two factions] skirmish again.
    Naught rests for me, in this tumultuous strife,
    But to make open proclamation.
    Come, officer, as loud as e'er thou canst, cry.
    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.
    [The skirmish ceases.]
    Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law.
    But we shall meet and break our minds at large.
    Gloucester, we'll meet to thy cost, be sure.
    Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.
    I'll call for clubs, if you will not away:
    455[Aside.] This Cardinal's more haughty then the devil.
    Mayor farewell. Thou dost but what thou may'st.
    Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head,
    For I intend to have it ere long.
    Exeunt [both factions severally].
    [To Officers.] See the coast cleared, and then we will depart.
    Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear.
    I myself fight not once in forty year.
    Enter the Master Gunner of Orléans, and his Boy.
    Sirrah, thou know'st how Orléans is besieged,
    And how the English have the suburbs won.
    Father I know, and oft have shot at them;
    Howe'er, unfortunate, I missed my aim.
    But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me.
    470Chief Master Gunner am I of this town;
    Something I must do to procure me grace.
    The Prince's espials have informèd me,
    How the English, in the suburbs close entrenched,
    Went, through a secret grate of iron bars
    475In 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,
    480And even these three days have I watched,
    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 [Master Gunner].
    Father, I warrant you, take you no care,
    I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
    Enter [the Earl of] Salisbury and [Lord] Talbot [above] on the turrets, with others [among them Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale].
    Talbot, my life, my joy, again returned?
    490How wert thou handled, being prisoner?
    Or by what means got'st thou to be released?
    Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.
    The Earl of Bedford had a prisoner,
    Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles,
    495For him was I exchanged, and ransomèd.
    But with a baser man of arms by far
    Once in contempt they would have bartered me;
    Which I disdaining, scorned, and cravèd death
    Rather than I would be so pilled esteemed.
    500In fine, redeemed I was as I desired.
    But O, the treacherous Falstaff wounds my heart,
    Whom with my bare fists I would execute
    If I now had him brought into my power.
    Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert 505entertained.
    With scoffs and scorns, and contumelious taunts,
    In open marketplace produced they me,
    To be a public spectacle to all.
    "Here", said they, "is the terror of the French,
    510The scarecrow that affrights our children so."
    Then broke I from the officers that led me,
    And with my nails digged stones out of the ground
    To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
    My grisly countenance made others fly.
    515None durst come near, for fear of sudden death.
    In iron walls they deemed me not secure:
    So great fear of my name 'mongst them were spread
    That they supposed I could rend bars of steel
    And spurn in pieces posts of adamant.
    520Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had
    That walked 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 [unseen by the English lords] with a linstock.
    I grieve to hear what torments you endured.
    But we will be revenged sufficiently.
    Now it is suppertime in Orléans.
    Here, through this grate, I count each one,
    And view the Frenchmen how they fortify.
    530Let us look in: the sight will much delight thee.
    Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale,
    Let me have your express opinions
    Where is best place to make our batt'ry next?
    [They look through the grate.]
    I think at the north gate, for there stands 535Loup.
    And I here, at the bulwark of the Bridge.
    For aught I see, this city must be famished,
    Or with light skirmishes enfeeblèd.
    540 Here they shoot [from within] and Salisbury [and Gargrave] fall down.
    O Lord have mercy on us, wretched sinners.
    O Lord have mercy on me, woeful man.
    What chance is this that suddenly hath crossed us?
    Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speak:
    545How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men?
    One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off?
    Accursèd tower. Accursè fatal hand
    That hath contrived this woeful tragedy.
    In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
    550Henry the Fifth he first trained 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.
    555The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
    Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive
    If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands.
    Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
    560Speak unto Talbot. Nay, look up to him.
    Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it.
    [Exit one with Gargrave's body.]
    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,
    565Remember to avenge me on the French."
    Plantagenet, I will, and like Nero,
    Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn.
    Wretched shall France be only in my name.
    Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens.
    570What stir is this? What tumult's in the heavens?
    Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?
    Enter a Messenger.
    My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head.
    The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle joined,
    575A holy prophetess new risen up,
    Is come with a great power, to raise the siege.
    Here Salisbury lifteth himself up and groans.
    Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan.
    It irks his heart he cannot be revenged.
    580Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you.
    Pucelle or puzzel, Dauphin 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,
    585And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
    Alarum. Exeunt [carrying Salisbury].
    Here an alarum again, and [Lord] Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him. Then enter Joan [la] Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her [and exeunt]. 590Then enter [Lord] Talbot.
    Where is my strength, my valor, and my force?
    Our English troops retire; I cannot stay them.
    A woman clad in armor chaseth them.
    Enter [Joan la] Pucelle.
    595Here, 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 straight'way give thy soul to him thou serv'st.
    Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace 600thee.
    Here they fight.
    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.
    605 They fight again.
    Talbot, farewell. Thy hour is not yet come.
    I must go victual Orléans forthwith.
    A short alarum, then [the French] enter the town with Soldiers.
    610O'ertake me if thou canst. I scorn thy strength.
    Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starvèd men.
    Help Salisbury to make his testament.
    This day is ours, as many more shall be.
    Exit [into the town].
    My thoughts are whirlèd like a potter's wheel.
    615I 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.
    620They called us, for our fierceness, English dogs;
    Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.
    A short alarum. [Enter English Soldiers.]
    Hark countrymen, either renew the fight
    Or tear the lions out of England's coat.
    625Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
    Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf,
    Or horse or oxen from the lèopard,
    As you fly from your oft-subduèd slaves.
    Alarum. [Enter English and French Soldiers.] Here another skirmish.
    630It 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 entered into Orléans,
    In spite of us, or aught that we could do.
    [Exeunt Soldiers.]
    635O would I were to die with Salisbury.
    The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
    Exit. Alarum. Retreat.
    [Flourish.] Enter on the walls [Joan la] Pucelle, [Charles the] Dauphin, Reignier, [Duke of Anjou, the Duke of] 640Alencon, and [French] Soldiers [with colors].
    Advance our waving colors on the walls;
    Rescued is Orléans from the English.
    Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word.
    Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,
    645How shall I honor thee for this success?
    Thy promises are like Adonis' garden,
    That one day bloomed and fruitful were the next.
    France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess.
    Recovered is the town of Orléans.
    650More blessèd hap did ne'er befall our state.
    Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?
    Dauphin command the citizens make bonfires
    And feast and banquet in the open streets
    655To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
    All France will be replete with mirth and joy
    When they shall hear how we have played the men.
    'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
    For which I will divide my crown with her,
    660And all the priests and friars in my realm
    Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
    A statelier pyramid to her I'll rear
    Than Rhodope's of Memphis ever was.
    In memory of her, when she is dead
    665Her ashes, in an urn more precious
    Than the rich-jeweled coffer of Darius,
    Transported, shall be at high festivals
    Before the kings and queens of France.
    No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
    670But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
    Come in, and let us banquet royally,
    After this golden day of victory.
    Flourish. Exeunt.
    675 Enter [on the walls] a Sergeant of a band, with two Sentinels.
    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.
    Sergeant you shall.
    [Exit Sergeant.]
    Thus are poor servitors,
    When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
    Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.
    Enter [Lord] Talbot, [the Dukes of] Bedford and Burgundy [and Soldiers], with scaling ladders, their drums beating a 685dead march.
    Lord regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
    By whose approach the regions of Artois,
    Walloon, and Picardy are friends to us,
    This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
    690Having all day caroused and banqueted.
    Embrace we then this opportunity,
    As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
    Contrived by art and baleful sorcery.
    Coward of France. How much he wrongs his fame,
    695Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
    To join with witches and the help of hell.
    Traitors have never other company.
    But what's that "Pucelle" whom they term so pure?
    A maid, they say.
    A maid? And be so martial?
    Pray God she prove not masculine ere long.
    If underneath the standard of the French
    She carry armor, as she hath begun.
    Well, let them practice and converse with spirits.
    705God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
    Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
    Ascend, brave Talbot. We will follow thee.
    Not altogether. Better far, I guess,
    That we do make our entrance several ways;
    710That, if it chance the one of us do fail,
    The other yet may rise against their force.
    Agreed. I'll to yond corner.
    And I to this.
    [Exeunt severally Bedford and Burgundy with some Soldiers.]
    And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave.
    715Now Salisbury; for thee, and for the right
    Of English Henry, shall this night appear
    How much in duty I am bound to both.
    [Talbot and some Soldiers assault the walls.]
    Arm. Arm. The enemy doth make assault.
    [Exeunt above.]
    English Soldiers
    Cry. Saint George! A Talbot!
    720 [Alarum.] The French [Soldiers] leap o'er the walls in their shirts [and exeunt]. Enter several ways [the] Bastard [of Orléans, the Duke of] Alencon, [and] Reignier [Duke of Anjou], half ready and half unready.
    How now my Lords? What, all unready so?
    Unready? Aye, and glad we scaped so well.
    'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
    Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.
    Of all exploits since first I followed arms
    Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
    More venturous, or desperate than this.
    I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
    If not of hell, the heavens sure favor him.
    Here cometh Charles. I marvel how he sped?
    Enter Charles [the Dauphin] and Joan [la Pucelle].
    Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard.
    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?
    Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?
    740At 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.
    Duke of Alencon, this was your default,
    That, being captain of the watch tonight,
    Did look no better to that weighty charge.
    Had all your quarters been as safely kept
    As that whereof I had the government,
    750We had not been thus shamefully surprised.
    Mine was secure.
    And so was mine, my lord.
    And for myself, most part of all this night
    Within her quarter and mine own precinct
    755I was employed in passing to and fro
    About relieving of the sentinels.
    Then how or which way should they first break in?
    Question, my lords, no further of the case,
    How or which way. 'Tis sure they found some place
    760But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
    And now there rests no other shift but this,
    To gather our soldiers, scattered and dispersed,
    And lay new platforms to endamage them.
    765 Alarum. Enter [an English] Soldier, crying.
    A Talbot! A Talbot!
    They [the French] fly, leaving their clothes behind.
    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,
    770Using no other weapon but his name.
    Exit [with abandoned clothes].
    Enter [Lord] Talbot, [the Dukes of] Bedford [and] Burgundy [a Captain, and Soldiers].
    The day begins to break and night is fled,
    Whose pitchy mantle overveiled the earth.
    Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
    Retreat [is sounded].
    Bring forth the body of old Salisbury
    And here advance it in the marketplace,
    The middle cincture of this cursèd town.
    [Exit one or more Soldiers.]
    Now have I paid my vow unto his soul:
    For every drop of blood was drawn from him
    780There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight.
    And that hereafter ages may behold
    What ruin happened in revenge of him,
    Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
    A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interred;
    785Upon the which, that every one may read,
    Shall be engraved the sack of Orléans,
    The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
    And what a terror he had been to France.
    But, lords, in all our bloody massacre
    790I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
    His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
    Nor any of his false confederates.
    'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
    Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
    795They did amongst the troops of armèd men
    Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
    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,
    800When 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.
    805 Enter a 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?
    Here is the Talbot. Who would speak with him?
    The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
    With modesty admiring thy renown,
    By me entreats, great lord, thou would'st vouchsafe
    To visit her poor castle where she lies,
    That she may boast she hath beheld the man
    815Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
    Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars
    Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
    When ladies crave to be encountered with.
    You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
    Ne'er trust me then, for when a world of men
    Could not prevail with all their oratory,
    Yet hath a woman's kindness overruled.
    And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
    And in submission will attend on her.
    825Will not your honors bear me company?
    No, truly, 'tis more than manners will.
    And I have heard it said, "Unbidden guests
    Are often welcomest when they are gone".
    Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
    830I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
    Come hither, captain.
    You perceive my mind?
    I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.
    Exeunt [severally].
    835 Enter [the] Countess [of Auvergne and her Porter].
    Porter, remember what I gave in charge,
    And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.
    Madam, I will.
    The plot is laid. If all things fall out right,
    840I 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,
    845To give their censure of these rare reports.
    Enter Messenger and [Lord] Talbot.
    Madam, according as your ladyship desired,
    By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.
    And he is welcome. What, is this the man?
    Madam, it is.
    Is this the scourge of France?
    Is this the Talbot, so much feared abroad
    That with his name the mothers still their babes?
    I see report is fabulous and false.
    855I 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 writhlèd shrimp
    860Should strike such terror to his enemies.
    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.
    [Talbot makes to leave.]
    [To Messenger.] What means he now?
    865Go ask him whither he goes?
    Stay, my Lord Talbot, for my lady craves
    To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
    Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,
    I go to certify her Talbot's here.
    870 Enter Porter with keys.
    If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
    Prisoner? To whom?
    To me, bloodthirsty lord;
    And for that cause I trained thee to my house.
    875Long 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
    880Wasted our country, slain our citizens,
    And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
    Ha, ha, ha!
    Laughest, thou wretch?
    Thy mirth shall turn to moan.
    I laugh to see your ladyship so fond
    To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow
    Whereon to practice your severity.
    Why? Art not thou the man?
    I am indeed.
    Then have I substance too.
    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.
    895I tell you madam, were the whole frame here,
    It is of such a spacious lofty pitch
    Your roof were not sufficient to contain't.
    This is a riddling merchant for the nonce.
    He will be here, and yet he is not here.
    900How can these contrarieties agree?
    That will I show you presently.
    [Talbot] winds his horn. [Within], drums strike up; a peal of ordnance. Enter [English] Soldiers.
    How say you, madam? Are you now persuaded
    905That 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.
    Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse.
    I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,
    And more than may be gathered by thy shape.
    Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath,
    For I am sorry, that with reverence
    915I did not entertain thee as thou art.
    Be not dismayed, fair lady, nor misconster
    The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
    The outward composition of his body.
    What you have done hath not offended me;
    920Nor 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.
    With all my heart; and think me honorèd
    925To feast so great a warrior in my house.
    [One or morebriars bearing white and red roses.] Enter Richard Plantagenet, [the Earl of] Warwick, [the Duke of] Somerset, [William de la] Pole [the Earl of Suffolk], and others [Vernon, and a Lawyer].
    Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
    930Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
    Within the Temple hall we were too loud.
    The garden here is more convenient.
    Then say at once if I maintained the truth;
    Or else was wrangling Somerset in th'error?
    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.
    Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us.
    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,
    945I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement;
    But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
    Good faith, I am no wiser than a 'daw.
    Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance.
    The truth appears so naked on my side
    950That any purblind eye may find it out.
    And on my side it is so well appareled,
    So clear, so shining, and so evident,
    That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
    Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
    955In 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 briar pluck a white rose with me.
    [He plucks a white rose.]
    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.
    [He plucks a red rose.]
    I love no colors, and without all color
    Of base insinuating flattery
    965I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
    I pluck this red rose with young Somerset,
    And say withal I think he held the right.
    Stay lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more
    Till you conclude that he upon whose side
    970The fewest roses are croppèd from the tree
    Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
    Good Master Vernon, it is well objected.
    If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
    And I.
    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.
    Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
    Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red,
    980And fall on my side so against your will.
    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.
    Well, well, come on. Who else?
    Unless my study and my books be false,
    The argument you held was wrong in you;
    In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too.
    Now Somerset, where is your argument?
    Here in my scabbard, meditating that
    990Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
    Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses,
    For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
    The truth on our side.
    No, Plantagenet,
    995'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.
    Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
    Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
    Aye, sharp and piercing to maintain his truth,
    Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
    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.
    Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
    I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
    Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
    Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee.
    I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
    Away, away, good William de la Pole.
    We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
    Now by God's will thou wrong'st him, Somerset.
    His grandfather was Lionel, Duke of Clarence,
    1015Third son to the third Edward, King of England.
    Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?
    He bears him on the place's privilege,
    Or durst not for his craven heart say thus.
    By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
    1020On 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?
    1025His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood,
    And till thou be restored thou art a yeoman.
    My father was attachèd, not attainted,
    Condemned to die for treason, but no traitor;
    And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,
    1030Were growing time once ripened to my will.
    For your partaker Pole, and you yourself,
    I'll note you in my book of memory,
    To scourge you for this apprehension.
    Look to it well, and say you are well warned.
    Ah, 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.
    And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
    As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
    1040Will I forever, and my faction, wear
    Until it wither with me to my grave,
    Or flourish to the height of my degree.
    Go forward, and be choked with thy ambition.
    And so farewell until I meet thee next.
    Have with thee Pole. Farewell ambitious Richard.
    How I am braved, and must perforce endure it.
    This blot that they object against your house
    1050Shall be wiped out in the next parliament,
    Called 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,
    1055Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
    Will I upon thy party wear this rose.
    And here I prophecy: this brawl today,
    Grown to this faction in the Temple garden,
    Shall send, between the red rose and the white,
    1060A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
    Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
    That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
    In your behalf still will I wear the same.
    And so will I.
    Thanks, gentle.
    Come, let us four to Dinner. I dare say
    This quarrel will drink blood another day.
    Exeunt. [The one or morebriars are removed.]
    Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, 1070[by his jailor Keepers].
    Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
    Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
    Even like a man new-halèd from the rack,
    So fare my limbs with long imprisonment;
    1075And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
    Nestor-like agèd 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;
    1080Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief,
    And pithless arms, like to a withered vine
    That droops his sapless branches to the ground.
    Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb,
    Unable to support this lump of clay,
    1085Swift-wingèd with desire to get a grave,
    As witting I no other comfort have.
    But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
    Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come.
    We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber,
    1090And answer was returned that he will come.
    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,
    1095This loathsome sequestration have I had;
    And even since then hath Richard been obscured,
    Deprived of honor and inheritance.
    But now the arbitrator of despairs,
    Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
    1100With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence.
    I would his troubles likewise were expired,
    That so he might recover what was lost.
    Enter Richard [Plantagenet].
    My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
    Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?
    Aye, noble uncle, thus ignobly used:
    Your nephew, late despisèd Richard, comes.
    Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck
    And in his bosom spend my latter gasp.
    1110O tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
    That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.
    [He embraces Richard.]
    And now declare sweet stem from York's great stock,
    Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised?
    First lean thine agèd back against mine arm,
    1115And in that ease I'll tell thee my dis-ease.
    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;
    1120Which 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
    1125My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
    That cause, fair nephew, that imprisoned me,
    And hath detained me all my flow'ring youth
    Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
    Was cursèd instrument of his decease.
    Discover more at large what cause that was,
    For I am ignorant and cannot guess.
    I will, if that my fading breath permit
    And death approach not ere my tale be done.
    Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this King,
    1135Deposed 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,
    1140Endeavored my advancement to the throne.
    The reason moved these warlike lords to this
    Was for that, young Richard thus removed,
    Leaving no heir begotten of his body,
    I was the next by birth and parentage,
    1145For by my mother I derivèd 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.
    1150But mark: as in this haughty great attempt
    They labourèd 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,
    1155Thy 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
    1160And have installed 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 suppressed.
    Of which, my lord, your honor is the last.
    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.
    Thy grave admonishments prevail with me.
    1170But yet methinks my father's execution
    Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.
    With silence, nephew, be thou politic.
    Strong fixèd is the house of Lancaster,
    And like a mountain, not to be removed.
    1175But now thy uncle is removing hence,
    As princes do their courts, when they are cloyed
    With long continuance in a settled place.
    O uncle, would some part of my young years
    Might but redeem the passage of your age.
    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,
    1185And prosperous be thy life in peace and war.
    And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul.
    In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage,
    And like a hermit overpassed thy days.
    Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast,
    1190And what I do imagine, let that rest.
    Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself
    Will see his burial better than his life.
    [Exeunt Keepers with Mortimer's body in the chair.]
    Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
    Choked with ambition of the meaner sort.
    1195And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
    Which Somerset hath offered to my house,
    I doubt not but with honor to redress.
    And therefore haste I to the Parliament,
    Either to be restorèd to my blood,
    1200Or make my will th'advantage of my good.
    Flourish. Enter [young] King [Henry], [the Dukes of] Exeter [and] Gloucester, [the Bishop of] Winchester, [the Duke of Somerset, [and the Earl of] Suffolk [with red roses], [the Earl of] Warwick, [and] Richard Plantagenet [with white roses]. Gloucester offers to put up a bill; Winchester snatches it and tears it.
    Com'st 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,
    1210As I with sudden, and extemporal speech
    Purpose to answer what thou canst object.
    Presumptuous priest, this place commands my patience,
    Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonored me.
    Think not, although in writing I preferred
    1215The 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,
    1220As 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.
    1225And for thy treachery, what's more manifest?
    In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
    As well at London Bridge as at the Tower.
    Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
    The King thy sovereign is not quite exempt
    1230From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
    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?
    1235Or 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;
    1240It 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.
    1245But he shall know I am as good.
    As good?
    Thou bastard of my grandfather.
    Aye, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,
    But one imperious in another's throne?
    Am I not Protector, saucy priest?
    And am not I a prelate of the Church?
    Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps,
    And useth it to patronage his theft.
    Unreverent Gloucester.
    Thou art reverend
    Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
    Rome shall remedy this.
    Roam thither then.
    My lord, it were your duty to forbear.
    Aye, see the bishop be not overborne.
    Methinks my lord should be religious,
    And know the office that belongs to such.
    Methinks his lordship should be humbler,
    It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.
    Yes, when his holy state is touched so near.
    State holy or unhallowed, what of that?
    Is not his grace Protector to the King?
    Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,
    Lest it be said, "Speak, sirrah, when you should;
    1270Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?"
    Else would I have a fling at Winchester.
    Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,
    The special watchmen of our English weal,
    I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
    1275To 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
    1280That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
    A noise within.
    [Within.] Down with the tawny coats.
    What tumult's this?
    An uproar, I dare warrant,
    1285Begun through malice of the Bishop's men.
    A noise again.
    [Within.] Stones, stones.
    Enter [the] Mayor [of London].
    Oh my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
    Pity the city of London, pity us.
    1290The Bishop, and the Duke of Gloucester's men,
    Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
    Have filled their pockets full of pebble stones
    And, banding themselves in contrary parts,
    Do pelt so fast at one another's pate
    1295That many have their giddy brains knocked out.
    Our windows are broke down in every street,
    And we, for fear, compelled to shut our shops.
    Enter in skirmish, with bloody pates, [Winchester's Servingmen in tawny coats and Gloucester's in blue coats].
    We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
    1300To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace.
    [The skirmish ceases.]
    Pray, Uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.
    1 Servingman
    Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth.
    2 Servingman
    Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.
    1305 Skirmish again.
    You of my household, leave this peevish broil,
    And set this unaccustomed fight aside.
    3 Servingman
    My lord, we know your grace to be a man
    Just and upright and, for your royal birth,
    1310Inferior to none but to his majesty;
    And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
    So kind a father of the commonweal,
    To be disgracèd by an inkhorn mate,
    We and our wives and children all will fight
    1315And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes.
    1 Servingman
    Aye, and the very parings of our nails
    Shall pitch a field when we are dead.
    [They] begin [to skirmish] again.
    Stay, stay, I say.
    1320And if you love me, as you say you do,
    Let me persuade you to forbear a while.
    O, how this discord doth afflict my soul.
    Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold
    My sighs and tears, and will not once relent?
    1325Who should be pitiful if you be not?
    Or who should study to prefer a peace,
    If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
    Yield my lord Protector. Yield Winchester.
    Except you mean with obstinate repulse
    1330To 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.
    He shall submit, or I will never yield.
    Compassion on the King commands me stoop,
    Or I would see his heart out ere the priest
    Should ever get that privilege of me.
    Behold, my lord of Winchester, the Duke
    Hath banished moody discontented fury,
    1340As by his smoothèd brows it doth appear.
    Why look you still so stern and tragical?
    Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.
    Fie, Uncle Beaufort. I have heard you preach
    That malice was a great and grievous sin;
    1345And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
    But prove a chief offender in the same?
    Sweet King, the Bishop hath a kindly gird.
    For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent.
    What, shall a child instruct you what to do?
    Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee
    Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give.
    [Aside.] Aye, but I fear me with a hollow heart.
    [To the others.] See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
    This token serveth for a flag of truce
    1355Betwixt ourselves and all our followers.
    So help me God, as I dissemble not.
    [Aside.] So help me God, as I intend it not.
    O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester,
    How joyful am I made by this contract.
    1360[To the Servingmen.] Away my masters, trouble us no more,
    But join in friendship as your lords have done.
    1 Servingman
    Content. I'll to the surgeon's.
    2 Servingman
    And so will I.
    3 Servingman
    And I will see what physic the tavern 1365affords.
    Exeunt [the Mayor and Servingmen].
    Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign,
    Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet
    We do exhibit to your majesty.
    Well urged, my Lord of Warwick; for, sweet prince,
    1370And 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.
    And those occasions, uncle, were of force.
    1375Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is
    That Richard be restorèd to his blood.
    Let Richard be restorèd to his blood.
    So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed.
    As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.
    If Richard will be true, not that all alone
    But all the whole inheritance I give
    That doth belong unto the house of York,
    From whence you spring by lineal descent.
    Thy humble servant vows obedience
    1385And humble service till the point of death.
    Stoop then, and set your knee against my foot.
    [Richard kneels.]
    And in reguerdon of that duty done,
    I gird thee with the valiant sword of York.
    Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
    1390And rise created princely Duke of York.
    [Rising.] And so thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall;
    And as my duty springs, so perish they
    That grudge one thought against your majesty.
    Welcome high prince, the mighty Duke of York.
    [Aside.] Perish base prince, ignoble Duke of York.
    Now will it best avail your majesty
    To cross the seas and to be crowned in France.
    The presence of a king engenders love
    Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends,
    1400As it disanimates his enemies.
    When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes,
    For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
    Your ships already are in readiness.
    Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt. 1405Manet 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 fainèd ashes of forged love,
    1410And will at last break out into a flame.
    As festered 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
    1415Which 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
    1420His days may finish, ere that hapless time.
    Enter [Joan la] Pucelle disguised, with four [French] Soldiers with sacks upon their backs.
    These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
    1425Through 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,
    1430And 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.
    Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
    And we be lords and rulers over Rouen.
    1435Therefore we'll knock.
    [They] knock.
    Qui là.
    Paysans, la pauvre gens de France:
    Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.
    Enter, go in, the market bell is rung.
    Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.
    Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the] Bastard [of Orléans, the Duke of] Alencon, [Reignier Duke of Anjou, and French Soldiers.]
    Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem,
    And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen.
    Here entered Pucelle and her practisants.
    Now she is there, how will she specify
    "Here is the best and safest passage in"?
    By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
    Which, once discerned, shows that her meaning is:
    1450No way to that, for weakness, which she entered.
    Enter [Joan la] Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning.
    Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
    That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
    1455But burning fatal to the Talbonites.
    See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend.
    The burning torch in yonder turret stands.
    Now shine it like a comet of revenge.
    A prophet to the fall of all our foes.
    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 Lord] Talbot in an excursion.
    France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
    1465If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
    Pucelle, that witch, that damnèd sorceress,
    Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
    That hardly we escaped the pride of France.
    An Alarum: Excursions. [The Duke of] Bedford brought 1470in sick in a chair. Enter [Lord] Talbot and [the Duke of] Burgundy without; within, [Joan la] Pucelle, Charles [the Dauphin, the] Bastard [of Orléans, the Duke of Alencon], and Reignier [Duke of Anjou] on the walls.
    Good morrow gallants. Want ye corn for bread?
    I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
    1475Before he'll buy again at such a rate.
    'Twas full of darnel. Do you like the taste?
    Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless courtesan.
    I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own,
    And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
    Your grace may starve, perhaps, before that time.
    O let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason.
    What will you do, good grey-beard? 1485Break a lance
    And run a-tilt at death within a chair?
    Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
    Encompassed with thy lustful paramours,
    Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
    1490And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
    Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
    Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
    Are ye so hot, sir? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace.
    If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
    1495 They [the English] whisper together in counsel.
    God speed the parliament; who shall be the Speaker?
    Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?
    Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
    To try if that our own be ours or no.
    I speak not to that railing Hecate,
    But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest.
    Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
    Seigneur, no.
    Seigneur, hang. Base muleteers of France,
    1505Like peasant footboys do they keep the walls
    And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.
    Away, captains, let's get us from the walls,
    For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
    Goodbye, my Lord. We came but to tell you
    1510That we are here.
    Exeunt [French] from the walls.
    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,
    Pricked on by public wrongs sustained in France,
    1515Either 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 betrayèd town,
    Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buryèd,
    1520So sure I swear to get the town or die.
    My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
    But ere we go, regard this dying prince,
    The valiant Duke of Bedford. [To Bedford.] Come, my lord,
    1525We will bestow you in some better place,
    Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.
    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.
    Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you.
    Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
    That stout Pendragon, in his litter sick,
    Came to the field and vanquishèd his foes.
    Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
    1535Because I ever found them as myself.
    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,
    1540And set upon our boasting enemy.
    Exit [with Burgundy].
    An Alarum. Excursions. Enter Sir John Falstaff, and a Captain.
    Whither away, Sir John Falstaff, in such haste?
    Whither away? To save myself by flight.
    1545We are like to have the overthrow again.
    What, will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot?
    Aye, all the Talbots in the world, to save my life.
    Cowardly knight, ill fortune follow thee.
    Retreat. Excursions. [Joan la] Pucelle, Alencon, and Charles fly.
    Now quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
    For I have seen our enemy's overthrow.
    1555What 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. Enter [Lord] Talbot, [the Duke of] Burgundy, and 1560the rest [of the English Soldiers].
    Lost and recovered in a day again.
    This is a double honor, Burgundy;
    Yet heavens have glory for this victory.
    Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
    1565Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects
    Thy noble deeds as valor's monuments.
    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?
    1570What 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,
    1575For there young Henry with his nobles lie.
    What wills lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.
    But yet, before we go, let's not forget
    The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
    But see his exequies fulfilled in Rouen.
    1580A braver soldier never couchèd lance;
    A gentler heart did never sway in court.
    But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
    For that's the end of human misery.
    1585 Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the] Bastard [of Orléans, the Duke of] Alencon, [Joan la] Pucelle [and French Soldiers].
    Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
    Nor grieve that Rouen is so recoverèd.
    Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
    For things that are not to be remedied.
    1590Let 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.
    We have been guided by thee hitherto,
    1595And of thy cunning had no diffidence.
    One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.
    [To Joan.] Search out thy wit for secret policies,
    And we will make thee famous through the world.
    [To Joan.] We'll set thy statue in some holy place
    1600And have thee reverenced like a blessèd saint.
    Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
    Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
    By fair persuasions mixed with sugared words
    We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
    1605To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
    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 extirpèd from our provinces.
    For ever should they be expulsed from France
    And not have title of an earldom here.
    Your honors shall perceive how I will work
    To bring this matter to the wishèd end.
    Drum sounds afar off.
    1615Hark, by the sound of drum you may perceive
    Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
    Here sound an English march.
    There goes the Talbot, with his colors spread,
    And all the troops of English after him.
    1620 [Here sounds a] French march.
    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.
    [Calling.] A parley with the Duke of Burgundy.
    [Enter the Duke of Burgundy.]
    Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
    The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
    What sayest thou, Charles? For I am marching 1630hence.
    Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
    Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France,
    Stay. Let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
    Speak on, but be not over-tedious.
    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
    1640When death doth close his tender-dying eyes,
    See, see the pining malady of France;
    Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
    Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
    Oh turn thy edgèd sword another way,
    1645Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
    One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
    Should grieve thee more then streams of foreign gore.
    Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears
    And wash away thy country's stainèd spots.
    [Aside.] Either she hath bewitched me with her words,
    Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
    Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
    Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
    Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation
    1655That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
    When Talbot hath set footing once in France
    And fashioned thee that instrument of ill,
    Who then but English Henry will be lord,
    And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
    1660Call we to mind and mark but this for proof:
    Was not the Duke of Orléans 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,
    1665In 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.
    [Aside.] I am vanquishèd. These haughty words of hers
    Have battered me like roaring cannon-shot
    And made me almost yield upon my knees.
    Forgive me country, and sweet countrymen;
    1675And lords, accept this hearty kind embrace.
    My forces and my power of men are yours.
    So farewell, Talbot. I'll no longer trust thee.
    [Aside.] Done like a Frenchman: turn and turn again.
    Welcome, brave Duke. Thy friendship makes us fresh.
    And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
    Pucelle hath bravely played her part in this,
    1685And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
    Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
    And seek how we may prejudice the foe.
    1690 [Flourish.] Enter King [Henry, the Duke of] Gloucester, [the Bishop of] Winchester, [the Duke of] Exeter; [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York, [the Earl of] Warwick, [and Vernon with white roses; the Earl of] Suffolk, [the Duke of] Somerset [and Basset with red roses]. To them, with his Soldiers, [enter Lord] Talbot.
    My gracious prince, and honorable peers,
    Hearing of your arrival in this realm
    1695I have a while given truce unto my wars
    To do my duty to my sovereign;
    In sign whereof, this arm that hath reclaimed
    To your obedience fifty fortresses,
    Twelve cities, and seven wallèd towns of strength,
    1700Beside 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.
    [He kneels.]
    Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
    That hath so long been resident in France?
    Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.
    Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord.
    When I was young, as yet I am not old,
    1710I do remember how my father said
    A stouter champion never handled sword.
    Long since we were resolvèd of your truth,
    Your faithful service and your toil in war,
    Yet never have you tasted our reward,
    1715Or been reguerdoned with so much as thanks,
    Because till now we never saw your face.
    Therefore stand up,
    [Talbot rises.]
    and for these good deserts
    We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
    And in our coronation take your place.
    1720 Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt. Manent Vernon and Basset.
    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
    1725Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st?
    Yes, sir, as well as you dare patronage
    The envious barking of your saucy tongue
    Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.
    Sirrah, thy lord I honor as he is.
    Why, what is he? As good a man as York.
    Hark ye, not so. In witness, take ye that.
    [Vernon] strikes him.
    Villain, thou knowest the law of arms is such
    1735That 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.
    Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you,
    And after meet you sooner than you would.
    [Flourish.] Enter King [Henry, the Duke of] Gloucester, [the Bishop of] Winchester, [the Duke of] Exeter, [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York, [and the Earl of] Warwick, [with white roses; the Earl of] Suffolk, [and the Duke of] 1745Somerset, [with red roses; Lord] Talbot, and [the] Governor [of Paris].
    Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head.
    God save King Henry, of that name the sixth.
    Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath
    That you elect no other King but him;
    1750Esteem 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] Falstaff [with a letter].
    My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calice
    To haste unto your coronation
    A letter was delivered to my hands,
    Writ to your grace, from th' Duke of Burgundy.
    [He presents the letter to King Henry.]
    Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee.
    1760I vowed, base knight, when I did meet thee next,
    To tear the Garter from thy craven's leg,
    [He tears it off.]
    Which I have done because unworthily
    Thou was't installèd in that high degree.
    Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest.
    1765This dastard at the battle of Poitiers,
    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;
    1770In which assault we lost twelve hundred men.
    Myself and diverse 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
    1775This ornament of knighthood: yea or no?
    To say the truth, this fact was infamous
    And ill beseeming any common man,
    Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.
    When first this order was ordained my lords,
    1780Knights 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.
    1785He then that is not furnished 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
    1790That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
    [To Falstaff.] Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom.
    Be packing, therefore, thou that was't a knight.
    Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death.
    [Exit Falstaff.]
    And now, Lord Protector, view the letter
    1795Sent from our Uncle, Duke of Burgundy.
    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?
    1800Or doth this churlish superscription
    Pretend some alteration in good will?
    What's here? "I have upon especial cause
    Moved with compassion of my country's wrack
    Together with the pitiful complaints
    1805Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
    Forsaken your pernicious faction
    And joined with Charles, the rightful king of France."
    O monstrous treachery. Can this be so?
    That in alliance, amity, and oaths
    1810There should be found such false dissembling guile?
    What? Doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
    He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.
    Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
    It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
    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?
    Content, my liege? Yes. But that I am prevented,
    I should have begged I might have been employed.
    Then gather strength and march unto him straight.
    Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason,
    And what offense it is to flout his friends.
    I go my lord, in heart desiring still
    1825You may behold confusion of your foes.
    Enter Vernon [wearing a white rose] and Basset [wearing a red rose].
    [To King Henry.] Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.
    [To King Henry.] And me, my lord; grant me the combat too.
    [To King Henry, pointing to Vernon.] This is my servant; hear him, noble prince.
    [To King Henry, pointing to Basset.] And this is mine, sweet Henry, favor him.
    Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak.
    Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim,
    And wherefore crave you combat, or with whom?
    With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
    And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
    What is that wrong whereof you both complain?
    First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
    Crossing the sea from England into France,
    This fellow here with envious carping tongue
    1840Upbraided me about the rose I wear,
    Saying the sanguine color of the leaves
    Did represent my master's blushing cheeks
    When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
    About a certain question in the law
    1845Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him,
    With other vile and ignominious terms;
    In confutation of which rude reproach,
    And in defense of my lord's worthiness,
    I crave the benefit of law of arms.
    And that is my petition, noble lord;
    For though he seem with forgèd 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,
    1855Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
    Bewrayed the faintness of my master's heart.
    Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
    Your private grudge, my lord of York, will out,
    Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.
    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,
    1865Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
    Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
    And then your highness shall command a peace.
    The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
    Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
    There is my pledge. Accept it, Somerset.
    Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
    Confirm it so, mine honorable lord.
    Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife,
    And perish ye with your audacious prate.
    1875Presumptuous 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,
    1880Much less to take occasion from their mouths
    To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves.
    Let me persuade you take a better course.
    It grieves his highness. Good my lords, be friends.
    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.
    1890If 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
    1895When foreign princes shall be certified
    That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
    King Henry's peers and chief nobility
    Destroyed themselves and lost the realm of France.
    O, think upon the conquest of my father,
    1900My 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,
    [He takes a red rose.]
    That any one should therefore be suspicious
    1905I 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 crowned.
    But your discretions better can persuade
    1910Than 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;
    1915And 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.
    1920Ourself, my Lord Protector, and the rest,
    After some respite, will return to Calice;
    From thence to England, where I hope ere long
    To be presented by your victories
    With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous rout.
    1925 [Flourish.] Exeunt. Manent [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York, Warwick, Exeter, [and] Vernon.
    My Lord of York, I promise you, the King
    Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
    And so he did; but yet I like it not
    In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
    Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not,
    I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
    And if I wish he did--but let it rest,
    Other affairs must now be managèd.
    Exeunt. Manet Exeter.
    Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
    For had the passions of thy heart burst out
    I fear we should have seen deciphered there
    More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
    Than yet can be imagined or supposed.
    1940But 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.
    1945'Tis much, when scepters are in children's hands,
    But more when envy breeds unkind division:
    There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
    Enter [Lord] Talbot, with [a] Trumpet[er] and Drum[mer], [and Soldiers,] before Bordeaux.
    Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter.
    Summon their general unto the wall.
    [The trumpeter] sounds [a parley]. Enter [French] General, aloft.
    English John Talbot, captain, calls you forth,
    Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
    1955And 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 proffered peace,
    1960You 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.
    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
    1970And 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 pitched
    To wall thee from the liberty of flight,
    1975And 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
    1980Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
    Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man
    Of an invincible unconquered spirit.
    This is the latest glory of thy praise,
    That I thy enemy due thee withal,
    1985For ere the glass that now begins to run
    Finish the process of his sandy hour,
    These eyes that see thee now well colorèd
    Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead.
    Drum afar off.
    1990Hark, hark, the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
    Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul,
    And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
    He fables not. I hear the enemy.
    Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.
    [Exit one or more Soldiers.]
    1995O negligent and heedless discipline,
    How are we parked 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,
    2000Not 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
    2005And 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.
    Enter a Messenger that meets [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York.
    Enter [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York with [a] Trumpet[er], and many Soldiers.
    Are not the speedy scouts returned again
    That dogged the mighty army of the Dauphin?
    They are returned, my lord, and give it out
    That he is marched to Bordeaux with his power
    To fight with Talbot as he marched along.
    2015By your espials were discoverèd
    Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led,
    Which joined with him and made their march for Bordeaux.
    A plague upon that villain Somerset
    That thus delays my promisèd supply
    2020Of horsemen that were levied for this siege.
    Renownèd Talbot doth expect my aid,
    And I am louted by a traitor villain
    And cannot help the noble chevalier.
    God comfort him in this necessity;
    2025If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
    Enter another Messenger [Sir William Lucy].
    Thou princely leader of our English strength,
    Never so needful on the earth of France,
    Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
    2030Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
    And hemmed about with grim destruction.
    To Bordeaux, warlike Duke; to Bordeaux, York,
    Else farewell Talbot, France, and England's honor.
    O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart
    2035Doth 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.
    O send some succor to the distressed lord.
    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.
    Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul,
    2045And on his son young John, who two hours since
    I met in travail toward his warlike father.
    This seven years did not Talbot see his son,
    And now they meet where both their lives are done.
    Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have,
    2050To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
    Away! Vexation almost stops my breath
    That sundered friends greet in the hour of death.
    Lucy, farewell. No more my fortune can
    But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.
    2055Maine, Blois, Poitiers, and Tours are won away,
    'Long all of Somerset and his delay.
    [Exeunt all but Lucy.]
    Thus while the vulture of sedition
    Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
    Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
    2060The 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.
    Enter [the Duke of] Somerset with his army.
    [To a Captain.] 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
    2070Hath 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.
    [Enter Lucy.]
    Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
    2075Set from our o'er-matched forces forth for aid.
    How now, Sir William, whither were you sent?
    Whither, my Lord? From bought and sold Lord Talbot,
    Who, ringed about with bold adversity,
    Cries out for noble York and Somerset
    2080To beat assailing death from his weak regions;
    And whiles the honorable captain there
    Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs
    And, in advantage, ling'ring looks for rescue,
    You his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
    2085Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
    Let not your private discord keep away
    The levied succors that should lend him aid,
    While he, renownèd noble gentleman,
    Yield up his life unto a world of odds.
    2090Orléans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
    Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,
    And Talbot perisheth by your default.
    York set him on, York should have sent him aid.
    And York as fast upon your grace exclaims,
    Swearing that you withhold his levied host
    Collected for this expedition.
    York lies. He might have sent and had the horse.
    I owe him little duty and less love,
    2100And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
    The fraud of England, not the force of France,
    Hath now entrapped the noble-minded Talbot.
    Never to England shall he bear his life,
    But dies betrayed to fortune by your strife.
    Come, go. I will dispatch the horsemen straight.
    Within six hours they will be at his aid.
    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.
    If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu.
    His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
    Exeunt [severally].
    Enter [Lord] Talbot and his Son [John].
    O young John Talbot, I did send for thee
    2115To 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,
    2120Now 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.
    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
    2130That basely fled when noble Talbot stood.
    Fly to revenge my death if I be slain.
    He that flies so will ne'er return again.
    If we both stay, we both are sure to die.
    Then let me stay and, father, do you fly.
    2135Your 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,
    2140But 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.
    2145Here on my knee I beg mortality
    Rather than life preserved with infamy.
    Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?
    Aye, rather then I'll shame my mother's womb.
    Upon my blessing I command thee go.
    To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
    Part of thy father may be saved in thee.
    No part of him but will be shame in me.
    Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.
    Yes, your renownèd name; shall flight abuse it?
    Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain.
    You cannot witness for me, being slain.
    If death be so apparent, then both fly.
    And leave my followers here to fight and die?
    My age was never tainted with such shame.
    And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?
    No more can I be severed from your side
    Than can yourself your self in twain divide.
    Stay, go, do what you will: the like do I,
    For live I will not if my father die.
    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.
    Alarum: Excursions, wherein [Lord] Talbot's Son [John] 2170is hemmed about [by French Soldiers], and Talbot rescues him. [The English Soldiers drive off the French.]
    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.
    2175Where is John Talbot? [To John.] Pause, and take thy breath.
    I gave thee life, and rescued thee from death.
    O twice my father, twice am I thy son:
    The life thou gav'st me first, was lost and done
    Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
    2180To my determined time thou gav'st new date.
    When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire
    It warmed thy father's heart with proud desire
    Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,
    Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage,
    2185Beat down Alencon, Orléans, Burgundy,
    And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.
    The ireful bastard Orléans, that drew blood
    From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
    Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd,
    2190And 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
    2195Which 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,
    2200Now thou art sealed 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.
    2205If I today die not with Frenchmen's rage,
    Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age.
    By me they nothing gain, and if I stay
    'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day.
    In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
    2210My 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.
    The sword of Orléans hath not made me smart;
    These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
    2215On 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,
    2220To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance.
    Surely, by all the glory you have won,
    And 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.
    Then follow thou thy desp'rate sire of Crete,
    Thou Icarus, thy life to me is sweet.
    If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side,
    And commendable proved, let's die in pride.
    Alarum. Excursions. Enter old 2230[Lord] Talbot, led [by a Servant].
    Where is my other life? Mine own is gone.
    O, where's young Talbot? Where is valiant John?
    Triumphant death smeared with captivity,
    Young Talbot's valor makes me smile at thee.
    2235When he perceived me shrink and on my knee,
    His bloody sword he brandished over me,
    And like a hungry lion did commence
    Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience.
    But when my angry guardant stood alone,
    2240Tend'ring my ruin and assailed of none,
    Dizzy-eyed fury and great rage of heart
    Suddenly made him from my side to start
    Into the clust'ring battle of the French,
    And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
    2245His over-mounting spirit; and there died
    My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
    Enter [English Soldiers] with [the body of] John Talbot, borne.
    O my dear lord, lo where your son is borne.
    Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
    2250Anon from thy insulting tyranny,
    Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
    Two Talbots wingèd through the lither sky
    In thy despite shall scape mortality.
    [To John.] O thou whose wounds become hard-favored death,
    2255Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath.
    Brave death by speaking, whither 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 today".
    2260Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms.
    [Soldiers lay John in Talbot'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.
    [Talbot] dies. [Alarum. Exeunt Soldiers leaving the bodies.]
    Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the Dukes of] Alencon [and] Burgundy, [the] Bastard [of Orléans], 2265and [Joan la] Pucelle.
    Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
    We should have found a bloody day of this.
    How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood,
    Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood.
    Once I encountered him, and thus I said:
    "Thou maiden youth, be vanquished by a maid."
    But with a proud, majestical high scorn
    He answered thus: "Young Talbot was not born
    To be the pillage of a giglot wench."
    2275So rushing in the bowels of the French,
    He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
    Doubtless he would have made a noble knight.
    See where he lies inhearsèd in the arms
    Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.
    Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder,
    Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder.
    O no, forbear; for that which we have fled
    During the life, let us not wrong it dead.
    Enter [Sir William] Lucy [with a French Herald].
    Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent
    To know who hath obtained the glory of the day.
    On what submissive message art thou sent?
    Submission, Dauphin? 'Tis a mere French word.
    We English warriors wot not what it means.
    2290I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
    And to survey the bodies of the dead.
    For prisoners ask'st thou? Hell our prison is.
    But tell me whom thou seek'st?
    But where's the great Alcides of the field,
    2295Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury,
    Created for his rare success in arms
    Great Earl of Wexford, Waterford, and Valence,
    Lord Talbot of Goodrich and Urchinfield,
    Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton,
    2300Lord 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 Marshall to Henry the Sixth,
    2305Of all his wars within the realm of France?
    Here's a silly, stately style indeed.
    The Turk, that two-and-fifty kingdoms hath,
    Writes not so tedious a style as this.
    Him that thou magnifi'st with all these titles
    2310Stinking and flyblown lies here at our feet.
    Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge,
    Your Kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
    O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turned,
    That I in rage might shoot them at your faces.
    2315O, that I could but call these dead to life;
    It were enough to fright the realm of France.
    Were but his picture left amongst you here
    It would amaze the proudest of you all.
    Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence
    2320And give them burial as beseems their worth.
    [To Charles.] I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
    He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
    For God's sake let him have him. To keep them here
    They would but stink and putrefy the air.
    Go, take their bodies hence.
    I'll bear them hence, but from their ashes shall be reared
    A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
    So we be rid of them, do with him what thou wilt.
    [Exeunt Lucy and Herald bearing the bodies.]
    2330And now to Paris in this conquering vain,
    All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.
    Sennet. Enter King [Henry, the Dukes of] Gloucester, and Exeter [and others].
    [To Gloucester.] Have you perused the letters from the Pope,
    The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac?
    I have, my Lord, and their intent is this:
    They humbly sue unto your excellence
    To have a godly peace concluded of
    2340Between the realms of England and of France.
    How doth your grace affect their motion?
    Well, my good lord, and as the only means
    To stop effusion of our Christian blood
    And 'stablish quietness on every side.
    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.
    Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect
    2350And 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.
    Marriage, uncle? Alas, my years are young,
    And fitter is my study and my books
    Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
    Yet call th'ambassadors, and as you please,
    So let them have their answers every one.
    [Exit one or more.]
    2360I shall be well content with any choice
    Tends to God's glory and my country's weal.
    Enter [the Bishop of] Winchester [now in Cardinal's attire], and three Ambassadors [one a papal Legate].
    What, is my Lord of Winchester installed
    And called unto a cardinal's degree?
    2365Then 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."
    My lords ambassadors, your several suits
    2370Have been considered 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
    2375Shall be transported presently to France.
    [To Ambassadors.] And for the proffer of my lord your master,
    I have informed his highness so at large
    As liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
    Her beauty, and the value of her dower,
    2380He doth intend she shall be England's queen.
    [To Ambassadors.] In argument and proof of which contract
    Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.
    [To Gloucester.] And so my Lord Protector see them guarded
    And safely brought to Dover, wherein shipped,
    2385Commit them to the fortune of the sea.
    Exeunt [severally all except Winchester and Legate].
    Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receive
    The sum of money which I promisèd
    Should be delivered to his holiness
    For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
    I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.
    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
    2395The Bishop will be overborne by thee.
    I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee,
    Or sack this country with a mutiny.
    Enter Charles [the Dauphin reading a letter, the Dukes of] Burgundy, Alencon, [the] Bastard [of Orléans], 2400Reignier [Duke of Anjou], and Joan [la Pucelle].
    These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits.
    'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt
    And turn again unto the warlike French.
    Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
    And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
    Peace be amongst them if they turn to us;
    Else, ruin combat with their palaces.
    Enter [a] Scout.
    Success unto our valiant general,
    And happiness to his accomplices.
    What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak.
    The English army, that divided was
    Into two parties, is now conjoined in one,
    2415And means to give you battle presently.
    Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is;
    But we will presently provide for them.
    I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there.
    Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.
    Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
    Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine;
    Let Henry fret and all the world repine.
    Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate.
    2425 Alarum. Excursions. Enter Joan [la] 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.
    2430You 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
    2435Of your accustomed diligence to me.
    Now ye familiar spirits that are culled
    Out of the powerful regions under earth,
    Help me this once, that France may get the field.
    They walk and speak not.
    2440O, hold me not with silence overlong.
    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.
    2445 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
    2450Entreat 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
    2455That France must vail her lofty plumèd 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.
    2460 Excursions. [The Dukes of] Burgundy and York fight hand to hand. [The] French fly. [Joan la Pucelle is captured.]
    Damsel of France, I think I have you fast.
    Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms,
    And try if they can gain your liberty.
    2465A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace.
    [To his Soldiers.] See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
    As if with Circe she would change my shape.
    Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
    O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man.
    2470No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
    A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee,
    And may ye both be suddenly surprised
    By bloody hands in sleeping on your beds.
    Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy 2475tongue.
    I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.
    Curse, miscreant, when thou com'st to the stake.
    Alarum. Enter [the Earl of] Suffolk with Margaret 2480in his hand.
    Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
    [He] gazes on her.
    O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly:
    For I will touch thee but with reverent hands,
    2485I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
    And lay them gently on thy tender side.
    Who art thou? Say, that I may honor thee?
    Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
    The King of Naples, whoso'er thou art.
    An earl I am, and Suffolk am I called.
    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.
    2495Yet if this servile usage once offend,
    Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend.
    O stay. [Aside.] I have no power to let her pass.
    My hand would free her, but my heart says no.
    As plays the sun upon the glassy stream,
    2500Twinkling 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.
    2505Hast 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.
    Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
    2510What ransom must I pay before I pass?
    For I perceive I am thy prisoner.
    [Aside.] How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit
    Before thou make a trial of her love?
    Why speak'st thou not? What ransom must I pay?
    [Aside.] She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed;
    She is a woman, therefore to be won.
    Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea or no?
    [Aside.] Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;
    Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?
    [Aside.] I were best to leave him, for he will not hear.
    [Aside.] There all is marred; there lies a cooling card.
    [Aside.] He talks at random; sure the man is mad.
    [Aside.] And yet a dispensation may be had.
    And yet I would that you would answer me.
    [Aside.] I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom?
    Why for my king: tush, that's a wooden thing.
    [Aside.] He talks of wood. It is some carpenter.
    [Aside.] Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,
    And peace establishèd between these realms.
    2530But 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.
    Hear ye captain? Are you not at leisure?
    [Aside.] It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much.
    Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.
    [To Margaret.] Madam, I have a secret to reveal.
    [Aside.] What though I be enthralled, he seems a knight
    And will not any way dishonor me.
    Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
    [Aside.] Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French,
    And then I need not crave his courtesy.
    Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause.
    [Aside.] Tush, women have been captivate ere now.
    Lady, wherefore talk you so?
    I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo.
    Say gentle Princess, would you not suppose
    Your bondage happy to be made a queen?
    To be a queen in bondage is more vile
    2550Than is a slave in base servility,
    For princes should be free.
    And so shall you,
    If happy England's royal king be free.
    Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?
    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--
    His love.
    I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
    No gentle madam, I unworthy am
    To woo so fair a dame to be his wife
    And have no portion in the choice myself.
    2565How say you, madam; are ye so content?
    And if my father please, I am content.
    Then call our captains and our colors forth,
    And, madam, at your father's castle walls
    We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.
    2570 [Enter Captains, Colors, and Trumpeters, who] sound [a parley]. Enter Reignier [Duke of Anjou] on the walls.
    See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner.
    To whom?
    To me.
    Suffolk, what remedy?
    2575I am a soldier, and unapt to weep
    Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
    Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord.
    Assent, and for thy honor give consent,
    Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king,
    2580Whom I with pain have wooed and won thereto;
    And this her easy-held imprisonment
    Hath gained thy daughter princely liberty.
    Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
    Fair Margaret knows
    2585That Suffolk doth not flatter, face or feign.
    Upon thy princely warrant I descend
    To give thee answer of thy just demand.
    [Exit Reignier above.]
    And here I will expect thy coming.
    Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier.
    Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories.
    Command in Anjou what your honor pleases.
    Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,
    Fit to be made companion with a king.
    What answer makes your grace unto my suit?
    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,
    2600My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
    That is her ransom. I deliver her,
    And those two counties I will undertake
    Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
    And I again in Henry's royal name,
    2605As deputy unto that gracious king,
    Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith.
    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
    2610To be mine own attorney in this case.
    [To Reignier.] 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.
    I do embrace thee as I would embrace
    The Christian prince King Henry, were he here.
    Farewell, my lord: good wishes, praise, and prayers
    Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.
    Farewell, sweet madam: but hark you Margaret;
    2620No princely commendations to my king?
    Such commendations as becomes a maid,
    A virgin, and his servant, say to him.
    Words sweetly placed, and modesty directed.
    [She is going.]
    But madam, I must trouble you again:
    2625No loving token to his Majesty?
    Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart,
    Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
    And this withal.
    [He] kiss[es] her.
    That for thyself; I will not so presume
    2630To send such peevish tokens to a king.
    [Exit Reignier and Margaret.]
    [Aside.] O wert thou for myself. But Suffolk, stay.
    Thou mayest not wander in that labyrinth.
    There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.
    Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise.
    2635Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
    Mad natural graces that extinguish art.
    Repeat their semblance often on the seas,
    That when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet
    Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder.
    2640 Enter [Richard Plantagenet now Duke of] York, [the Duke of] Warwick, [a] Shepherd, [followed by Guards leading Joan la] Pucelle.
    Bring forth that sorceress condemned to burn.
    [Guards bring Joan la Pucelle forward.]
    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
    2645Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
    Ah Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee.
    Decrepit miser, base ignoble wretch,
    I am descended of a gentler blood.
    Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
    Out, out. My lords, and please you, 'tis not so.
    I did beget her, all the parish knows.
    Her mother liveth yet, can testify
    She was the first fruit of my bach'lorship.
    [To Joan.] Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage?
    This argues what her kind of life hath been,
    Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.
    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.
    2660Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan.
    Peasant, avaunt. [To the English.] You have suborned this man
    Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
    [To the English.] 'Tis true I gave a noble to the priest
    The morn that I was wedded to her mother.
    2665[To Joan.] Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
    Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursèd be the time
    Of thy nativity. I would the milk
    Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'st her breast,
    Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake.
    2670Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,
    I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee.
    Dost thou deny thy father, cursèd drab?
    [To the English.] O burn her, burn her. Hanging is too good.
    Take her away, for she hath lived too long,
    2675To fill the world with vicious qualities.
    First let me tell you whom you have condemned:
    Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
    But issued from the progeny of kings;
    Virtuous and holy, chosen from above
    2680By 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,
    Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents,
    2685Corrupt 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 misconceivèd, Joan of Arc hath been
    2690A 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.
    Aye, aye. [To guards.] Away with her to execution.
    [To Guards.] 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 shortenèd.
    Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
    2700Then 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.
    Now heaven forfend, the holy maid with child?
    [To Joan.] The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought.
    Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
    She and the Dauphin have been ingling.
    I did imagine what would be her refuge.
    Well, go too, we'll have no bastards live,
    Especially since Charles must father it.
    You are deceived. My child is none of his.
    It was Alencon that enjoyed my love.
    Alencon, that notorious Machevile?
    2715It dies, and if it had a thousand lives.
    O give me leave, I have deluded you.
    'Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I named,
    But Reignier King of Naples that prevailed.
    A married man? That's most intolerable.
    Why, here's a girl; I think she knows not well,
    There were so many, whom she may accuse.
    It's sign she hath been liberal and free.
    And yet forsooth she is a virgin pure.
    [To Joan.] Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee.
    2725Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
    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
    2730Environ you till mischief and despair
    Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
    Enter [the Bishop of Winchester now] Cardinal.
    [To Joan.] Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
    Thou foul accursèd minister of hell.
    [Exit Joan, guarded.]
    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
    2740Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French,
    And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
    Approacheth to confer about some matter.
    Is all our travail turned to this effect?
    After the slaughter of so many peers,
    2745So 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
    2750By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
    Our great progenitors had conquerèd?
    O Warwick, Warwick, I foresee with grief
    The utter loss of all the realm of France.
    Be patient, York. If we conclude a peace
    2755It shall be with such strict and severe covenants
    As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.
    Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the Duke of] Alencon, [the] Bastard [of Orléans, and] Reignier [Duke of Anjou].
    Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
    That peaceful truce shall be proclaimed in France,
    2760We come to be informèd by yourselves,
    What the conditions of that league must be.
    Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes
    The hollow passage of my poisoned voice
    By sight of these our baleful enemies.
    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 breath in fruitful peace,
    2770You 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 thy regal dignity.
    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.
    'Tis known already that I am possessed
    With more then half the Gallian territories,
    And therein reverenced for their lawful king.
    Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquished,
    Detract so much from that prerogative
    2785As to be called 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.
    Insulting Charles, hast thou by secret means
    2790Used 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
    2795And not of any challenge of desert,
    Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
    [Aside to Charles.] My lord, you do not well in obstinacy
    To cavil in the course of this contract.
    If once it be neglected, ten to one
    2800We shall not find like opportunity.
    [Aside to Charles.] To say the truth, it is your policy
    To save your subjects from such massacre
    And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen
    By our proceeding in hostility;
    2805And therefore take this compact of a truce,
    Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
    How say'st thou, Charles? Shall our condition stand?
    It shall,
    2810Only reserved you claim no interest
    In any of our towns of garrison.
    Then swear allegiance to his majesty,
    As thou art knight, never to disobey
    Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
    2815Thou nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
    [They swear.]
    So, now dismiss your army when ye please.
    Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still;
    For here we entertain a solemn peace.
    2820 Enter [the Earl of] Suffolk in conference with King [Henry], [and the Dukes of] Gloucester and Exeter.
    [To Suffolk.] Your wondrous rare description, noble Earl,
    Of beauteous Margaret hath astonished me.
    Her virtues gracèd with external gifts
    2825Do 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
    2830Where I may have fruition of her love.
    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,
    2835Would 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
    2840She is content to be at your command;
    Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents,
    To love and honor Henry as her lord.
    And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume.
    [To Gloucester.] Therefore my Lord Protector, give consent,
    2845That Marg'ret may be England's royal queen.
    So should I give consent to flatter sin.
    You know, my lord, your highness is betrothed
    Unto another lady of esteem.
    How shall we then dispense with that contract
    2850And not deface your honor with reproach?
    As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths,
    Or one that, at a triumph, having vowed
    To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists
    By reason of his adversary's odds.
    2855A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds,
    And therefore may be broke without offense.
    Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than that?
    Her father is no better than an earl,
    2860Although in glorious titles he excel.
    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
    2865And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance.
    And so the Earl of Armagnac may do,
    Because he is near kinsman unto Charles.
    Beside, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower,
    Where Reignier sooner will receive than give.
    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.
    2875So 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
    2880Must be companion of his nuptial bed.
    And therefore, lords, since he affects her most,
    Most of all these reasons bindeth us:
    In our opinions she should be preferred.
    For what is wedlock forcèd but a hell,
    2885An 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?
    2890Her peerless feature joinèd with her birth
    Approves her fit for none but for a king.
    Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit,
    More then in women commonly is seen,
    Will answer our hope in issue of a king.
    2895For 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 linked in love.
    Then yield, my lords, and here conclude with me:
    2900That Margaret shall be queen, and none but she.
    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,
    2905I 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;
    2910Agree to any covenants, and procure
    That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
    To cross the seas to England and be crowned
    King Henry's faithful and anointed queen.
    For your expenses and sufficient charge,
    2915Among the people gather up a tenth.
    Be gone, I say, for till you do return
    I rest perplexèd with a thousand cares.
    And you, good Uncle, banish all offense.
    If you do censure me by what you were,
    2920Not 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 [with Exeter].
    Aye, grief, I fear me, both at first and last.
    2925 Exit Gloucester.
    Thus Suffolk hath prevailed, 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 Trojan did.
    2930Margaret shall now be queen and rule the King;
    But I will rule both her, the King, and realm.