Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Getty Research Institute https://archive.org/details/kinghenryvipartiOOshak_O KING HENRY VI. PART I. AN HISTORICAL PLAY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. -- CORRECTLY GIVEN, FROM THE TEXT OF JOHNSON &STEEVENS. HUmarfcs. Slontion: PRINTED BY AND FOR D. S. MAURICE, Penchurch Street; SOLD BY T. HUGHES, S5, LUDGATE STREET; J. BYSH.A2, PATERNOSTER ROW; J. CUMMING, DUBLIN; J.SUTHER- LAND, EDINBURGH; &c. Her. REMARKS The three parts of King Henry VI. are suspect¬ ed, by Mr. Theobald, of being supposititious, and are declared, by Dr. Warburton, to be certainly not Shakspeare’s; the Dr. gives no reason, but I suppose him to judge upon deeper principles and more comprehensive views, and to draw his opi¬ nion from the general effect and spirit of the com¬ position, which he thinks inferior to the other historical plays. Dissimilitude of style and heterogeneousness of sentiment may sufficiently show that a work does not really belong to the reputed author. But in these plays no such marks of spuriousness are fonud. The diction, the versification, and the figures, are Shakspeare’s. These plays, consi¬ dered without regard to characters and inci¬ dents, merely as narratives in verse, are more happily conceived, and more accurately finished, | than those of King John, Richard II. or the tra- i gic scenes of King Henry IV. and V. If we take i these plays from Shakspeare, to whom shall they be given ? What author of that age had the same | easiness of expression and fluency of numbers. Of these three plays, I think the second the best. The truth is, that they have not sufficient variety of action, for the incidents are too often of the same kind ; yet many of the characters are well discriminated. King Henry, and his queen, king Edward, the duke of Gloster, and the earl of Warwick, are very strongly and distinctly paint¬ ed. Johnson. DRAMATIS PERSONS. King Henry VT. Duke of Gloster, Uncle to the King, and Protector. Duke of Bedford, Uncle to the King, and Regent of France. Thomas Beaufort, Duke of Exeter, Great Uncle to the King. Henry Beaufort, Great Uncle to the King, Bishop of Win¬ chester, and afterwards Cardinal. John Beaufort, Earl of Somerset; afterwards Duke. Richard Plantagenet, eldest son of Richard, late Earl of Cambridge; afterwards Duke of York. Earl of Warwick. Earl of Salisbury. Earl of Suffolk. Lord Talbot, afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury. John Talbot, his son. , Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. Mortimer’s Keeper, and a Lawyer. Sir John Fastolfe. Sir William Lucy. Sir William Glansdale. Sir Thomas Gargrave. Mayor of London. Woedville, Lieut, of the Tower. Vernon, of the White Rose, or York Faction. Basset, of the Red Rose, or Lancaster Faction. Charles, Dauphin and afterwards King of France. Reignier, Duke of Anjou, and titular King of Naples. Duke of Burgundy. Duke of Alen^on. Governor of Paris. Bastard of Orleans. Master-gunner of Orleans, and his Son, General of the French Forces in Bourdeaux. A French Sergeant. A Porter. An old Shepherd, father to Joan la Pucelle. Margaret, Daughter to Reignier; afterwards married to King Henry. Countess of Auvergne. Joan La Pucelle, commonly called Joan of Arc. Fiends appearing to La Pucelle, Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and seve¬ ral Attendants, both on the English and French. SCENE, partly in England, add partly in France. KING HENRY VI ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. W KST'MINSTER-ABBEY. Dead March. Corpse of King Henry the Fifth discovered, lying in state ; attended on by the Dukes of Bedford, Gloster, and Exeter { the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, Heralds, Sfc. Bed. Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and stales, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ; And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, That have consented unto Henry’s death ! Henry the fifth, too famous to livelong ! England ne’er lost a king of so much worth. Glo. England ne’er had a king, until his time, Virtue he had, deserving to command : His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams; His arms spread wider than a dragon’s wings ; His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire. More dazzled and drove back his enemies Than mid-day sun, fierce bent against their faces. What should I say ? his deeds exceed all speech : He ne’er lift up his hand, but conquer’d. Exe. We mourn in black; why mourn we notin Henry is dead, and never shall revive : [blood? Upon a wooden coffin we attend ; And death’s dishonourable victory We with our stately presence glorify, Like captives bound to a triumphant car. 8 FIRST PART OF ACT T. What! shall we curse the planets of mishap. That plotted thus our glory’s overthrow ? Or shall we think the subtle-witted French Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him, By magic verses have contriv’d his end ? Win. He was a king bless’d of the King of kings. Unto the French the dreadful judgement day So dreadful will not be, as was his sight. The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought: The church’s prayers made him so prosperous. Glo. The church! where is it? Had not church¬ men pray’d, His thread of life had not so soon decay’d : None do you like but an effeminate prince, Whom, like a school-boy, you may overawe. Win. Gloster, 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, maj r . Glo. 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. Bed. Cease, cease, these jars, and rest your minds in peace ! Let’s to the altar :—Heralds, wait on us Instead of gold, we’ll offer up our arms ; Since arms avail not, now that Henry’s dead.— Posterity, await for wretched years. When at their mothers’ moist eyes babes shall suck ; Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, And none but women left to wail the dead.— Henry the fifth! thy ghost I invocate ; Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils ! Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! A far more glorious star thy soul will make, Than Julius Caesar, or bright— SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 9 Enter a Messenger. Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all! Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture : Guienue, Champaigue, Rheims, Orleans, Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost, [corse ? Bed. What say’st thou, man, before dead Henry’s Speak softly ; or the loss of those great towns Will make him burst his lead, and rise from death. Glo. Is Paris lost ? is Rouen yielded up ? If Henry were recall’d to life again, These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. Exe. How were they lost ? what treachery was us’d ? Mess. No treachery ; but want of men and money. Among the soldiers this is muttered,— That here you maintain several factions ; And, whilst a field should be despatch’d and fought. You are disputing of your generals. One would have ling’ring wars, with little cost ; Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings ; A third man thinks, without expense at all. By guileful words peace may be obtain’d. Awake, awake, English nobility ! Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot: Cropp’d are the flower-de-luces in your arms; Of England’s coat one half is cut away. Exe. Were our tears wanting to this funeral. These tidings would cull forth her flowing tides. Bed. Me they concern ; regent I am of France :— Give me my steeled coat. I’ll fight for France.— Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! Wounds I will lend the French, instead of eyes, To weep their intermissive miseries. Enter another Messenger. 2 Mess. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mis- Franceis revolted from the English quite; [chance. 10 ACT FIRST PART OF Except some petty towns of no import: The dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims • The bastard of Orleans with him is join’d ; Reignier, duke of Anjou, doth take his part; The duke of Alenpon llieth to his side. Exe. The dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! O, whither shall we fly from this reproach P Glo. We will not fly, but to our enemies’ throats Bedford, if thou be slack, I’ll fight it out. Bed. Gloster, why doubl’st thou of my forwardness An army have I muster’d in my thoughts, Wherewith already France i^overrun. Enter a third Messenger. 3 Mess. My gracious lords,—to add to your laments. Wherewith you now bedew king Henry’s hearse,_ 1 must inform you of a dismal fight, Betwixt the stout lord Talbot and the French. Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame ? is’t so ? 3 Mess. O, no ; wherein lord Talbot was o’erthrown : The circumstance I’ll tell you more at large. The tenth of August last, this dreadful lord, Retiring from the siege of Orleans, Having full scarce six thousand in his troop, By three and twenty thousand of the French Was round encompassed and set upon : No leisure had he to enrank his men; He wanted pikes to set before his archers ; Instead whereof, sharp stakes, pluck’d out of hedges, They pitched in the ground confusedly, To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. More than three hours the fight continued ; Where valiant Talbot, above human thought, Enacted wonders with his sword and lance. Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; Here, there, and every where, enrag’d he slew: The French exclaim’d, The devil was in arms; SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 11 All the whole array stood agaz’d on him : His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit, A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain, And rush’d into the bowels of the battle. Here had the conquest fully been seal’d up, If sir John Fastolfe had not play’d the coward ; He being in the vaward (plac’d behind, With purpose to relieve and follow them,) Cowardly lied, not having struck one stroke* Hence grew the general wreck and massacre ; Enclosed were they with their enemies: A base Walloon, to win the dauphin’s grace, Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back ; Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength. Durst not presume to look once in the face. Bed. Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself. For living idly here, in pomp and ease, Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, Unto his dastard foe-men is betray’d. 3 Mess. O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, And lord Scales with him, and lord Hungerford: Most of the rest slaughter’d, Or took, likewise. Bed. 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 ray friend ; Four of their lords I’ll change for one of ours.— Farewell, m)^ masters ; to my task will I; Bonfires in France forthwith I'am to make. To keep our great saint George’s feast withal: Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. 3 Mess. So you had need; for Orleans is besieg’d The English army is grown weak and faint: The earl of Salisbury craveth supply, And hardly keeps his men from mutiny. Sinoe they so few, watch such a multitude. 12 FIRST PART OF | AC Til" Ere. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry swori Either to quell the dauphin utterly. Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. Bed. I do remember it; and here take leave, To go about my preparation. Glo. I’ll to the Tower, with all the haste I can, To view the artillery and munition ; And then I will proclaim young Henry king. [exit Exe. To Elthain will I, where the young king is. Being ordain’d his special governor ; And for his safety there I’ll best devise. [exit Win. 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, And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. [exit. Scene close v SCENE II. FRANCE. BEFORE ORLEANS. Enter Charles , with his Forces ; Alengon, Reignier , and others. Char. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens, So in the earth, to this day is not known : Late did he shine upon the English side; Now we are victors, upon us he smiles. What towns of any moment, but we have ? At pleasure here we lie, near Orleans; Otherwhiles, the famish’d English, like pale ghosts, Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. [beeves : Alen. They want their porridge, and their fat bull- Either they must be dieted like mules, And have their provender tied to their mouths, Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. Reig. Let’s raise the siege ; why live we idly here ? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear : Remaineth none, but mad-brain’d Salisbury; ICENE IX. KING HENRY VI. 13 \.nd be may well in fretting spend bis gall, Nor men, nor money, hath he to make war. Char. Sound, sound, alarum ; we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorn French: — Him I forgive my death, that killeth me, When he sees me go back one foot, or fly. [exeunt. Alarums ; excursions; afterwards a retreat. Re-enter Charles, Alen$on, Reignier, and others. Char. Who ever saw the like ? what men have I?— Dogs! cowards! dastards!—I would ne’er have fled, But that they left me ’midst my enemies. Reig. Salisbury is a desperate homicide; He fighteth as one weary of his life, rhe other lords, like lions wanting food, Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. Alen. Froissard, a countryman of ours, records, England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, During the time Edward the third did reign. More truly now may this be verified ; For none but Sampsons, and Goliases, [t sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten ! Lean raw-bon’d rascals! who would e’er suppose rhey had such courage and aridacity ? [slaves, Char. Let’s leave this town; for they are hair-brain’d \nd hunger will enforce them to be more eager: 3f old I know them ; rather with their teeth rhe walls they’ll tear down, than forsake the siege. Reig. 1 think, by some odd grimmals or device, rheir 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 e’en let them alone. Alen . Be it so. Enter the Bastard of Orleans. Bast. Where’s the prince dauphin? I have news for him. Char. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. 14 FIRST PART OF ACT Bast. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer a | Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence ? [pall’< i Be not dismay’d, for succour is at hand : A holy maid hither with me I bring, Which, by a vision sent to her from heaven, Ordained is to raise this tedious siege. And drive the English forth the bounds of France. The spirit of deep prophecy she hath. Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome : What’s past, and what’s to come, she can descry. Speak, shall I call her in ? Believe my words. For they are certain and unfallible. [try her skil Char. Go, call her in: [exit Bastard] But, first, t 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. [retire ; Enter La Pucelle, Bastard of Orleans, and others. Reig. Fair maid, is’t thou wilt do these wond’rou feats ? [me ?— Puc. Reignier, is’t thou that thinkest to beguih Where is the dauphin?—come, come, from behind; I know thee well, though never seen before. Be not amaz’d, there’s nothing hid from me: In private will I talk with thee apart:—- Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash. Puc. Danphin, 1 am by birth a shepherd’s daughter. My wit untrain’d in any kind of art. Heaven, and our Lady gracious, hath it pleas’d To shine on my contemptible estate : Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, And to sun’s parching heat display’d my cheeks, God’s mother deigned to appear to me ; And, in a vision full of majesty, Will’d me to leave my base vocation, SCENE II. KING HENRY VI. 15 And free my country from calamity : Her aid she promis’d, and assur’d success: In complete glory she reveal’d herself; And, whereas I was black and swart before. With those clear rays which she infus’d on me, That beauty am I bless’d with, which you see. Ask me what question thou canst possible, And 1 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. Char. Thou hast astonish’d me with thy high terms ; Only this proof I’ll of thy valour make,—■ In single combat thou shalt buckle with me; And, if thou vanqnisbest, thy words are true ; Otherwise, I renounce all confidence. P-uc. 1 am prepar’d: here is my keen-edg’d sword, Deck’d with five flower-de-luces on each side ; [yard. The which, at Touraine, in saint Katharine’s ehurch- Out of a deal of old iron I chose forth. Char. Then come o’God’s name, I fear no woman. Puc. And, while I live, I’ll ne’er fly from a man. [they fight. Char. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon, And lightest with the sword of Deborah. Puc. Christ’s mother helps me, else I were too weak. Char. Whoe’er helps thee, ’tis thou that must help Impatiently I burn with thy desire; [me; My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu’d. Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, Let me thy servant, and not sovereign, be ; ’Tis the French dauphin sueth to thee thus. Puc. I must not yield to any rites of love, For my profession’s sacred from above: Wheu I have chased all thy foes from hence, ACT I 16 FIRST PART OF Then will I think upon a recompense. [thrall Char. Mean time, look gracious on thy prostrate Rtig. My lord, methinks.is very long in talk. Alen. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; Else ne’er could he so long protract his speech. Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know : These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. Reig. My lord, where are you ? what devise you on ? Shall we give over Orleans, or no ? Rue. Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! Fight till the last gasp; 1 will be your guard. Char. What she says. I’ll confirm ; we’ll fight it out. Puc.- Assign’d am I to he the English scourge, This night the siege assuredly I’ll raise : Expect saint Martin’s summer, halcyon days, Since I have entered into these wars. Glory is like a circle in the water. Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. With Henry’s death, the English circle ends; Dispersed are the glories it included. Now am I like that proud insulting ship. Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. Char. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? Thou with an eagle art inspired then. Helen, the mother of great Constantine, Nor yet saint Philip’s daughters, were like thee. Bright star of Venus, fall’n down on the earth. How may I reverently worship thee enough? Alen. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. Reig. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz’d. [it: Char. Presently we’ll trycome, let’s away about cenb iit. KING HENRY VI. 17 No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. [exeunt. SCENE III. LONDON. HILL BEFORE THE TOWER. Enter, at the gates, the J)uke of Gloster,with his serving- men, in blue coats. I Glo . I am come to survey the Tower this day ; Since Henry’s death, 1 fear, there is Conveyance.— Where be these warders, that they wait not here ? Open the gales; Gloster it is that calls. [Servantsknock. 1 Ward. [ Within ] Who is there that knocks so im¬ periously ? 1 Serv. It is the noble duke of Gloster. [let in. 2 Ward. [ Within ] W hoe’er he be, youmay not be 1 Serv. Answer you so the lord protector, villains? 1 Ward. [Within ] The Lord protect him! so we We do no otherwise than we are will’d, [answer him: Glo. Who willed you ? or whose will stands but There’s none protector of the realm, but I.— [mine ? Break up the gates, I’ll be your warrantize : Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? Servants rush at the Tower gates. Enter, to the gates, Woodville, the Lieutenant. Wood. [ Within ] What noise is this ? what traitors have wc here ? Glo. Lieutenant, is it you, whose voice I hear ? Open the gates ; here’s Gloster, that would enter. Wood. [ Within J Have patience, noble duke: I may The cardinal of Winchester forbids : [not open ; Prom him 1 have express commandment, That thou, nor none of thine, shall be let in. Glo. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him ’fore me ? Arrogant Winchester ? that haughty prelate, Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne’er could brook? Thou art no friend to God, or to the king : 5pen the gates, or I’ll shut thee out shortly. c 18 FIRST PART OF ACT I 1 Serv. Open the gates unto the lord protector; Or we’ll burst them open, if that you come not quickly, Enter Winchester, attended by a train of Servants h . tawny coats. Win. How now, ambitious Humphry ? what mean; this ? [out Glo. Piel’d priest, dost thou command me to be shu Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor. And not protector of the king, or realm. Glo. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator ; Thou, that contriv’dst to murder our dead lord j Thou, that giv’st whores indulgences to sin: I’ll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal’s hat. If thou proceed in this thy insolence. Win. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge afoot This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. Glo. 1 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. Win. Do what thou dar’st; I beard thee to thy face Glo. What ? am I dar’d, and bearded to my face ?—j Draw, men, for all this privileged place ; Blue-coats to tawny-eoats. Priest, beware your beard [Gloster and his Men attach the Bishop, I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly : Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal’s hat; In spite of pope, or dignities of church, Here by the cheeks I’ll drag thee up and down. Win. Gloster, thou’lt answer this before the pope. Glo. Winchester goose, I cry—a rope 1 a rope 1— Now beat them hence j why, do you let them stay ?— Thee I’ll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep’s array.— Out, tawny coats!—out, scarlet hypocrite! Here a great tumult. In the midst of it, enter thi Mayor of London and Officers. ;CEN'E III. KING HENRY VI. 19 May. Fie, lords ! that you, being supreme magi- Thus contumeliously should break the peace! [strates, Glo. Peace, mayor; thou know’st little of my wrongs: Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, (Hath here distrain’d the Tower to his use. ! Win? Here’s Glosler too, a foe to citizens ; (One that still motions war, and never peace. Overcharging your free purses with large lines; That seeks to overthrow religion, Because he is protector of the realm ; And would have armour here out of the Tower, To crown himself king, and suppress the prince. Glo. I will not answer thee with words, but blows. [here they skirmish again. May. Nought rests for me, in this tumultuous strife, But to make open proclamation Come, officer; as loud as e’er thou canst. Off. 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. Glo. Cardinal, I’ll be no breaker of the law : But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. • Win. Gloster, we’ll meet; to thy dear cost, be sure; Thy heart-blood I will have, for this day’s work. May. I’ll call for clubs, if you will not away : This cardinal is more haughty than the devil, [may’s!. Glo. Mayor, farewell; thou dost but what thou Win. Abominable Gloster! guard thy head ; For I intend to have it, ere long. [exeunt. May. See the coast clear’d, and then we will depart. Good God! that nobles should such stomachs bear ! I myself fight not once in forty year. [exeunt. 20 FIRST PART OF ACT SCENE IV. PRANCE. BEFORB ORLEANS. Enter, on the walls, the Master-gunner and his Son. \ M. Gun. Sirrah, thou Jinow’st how Orleans is be * sieg’d ; And how the English have the suburbs won. Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them. Howe’er, unfortunate, I miss’d my aim. M. Gun. But now thou shaltnot. Be thou rulec Chief master-gunner am I of this town; [by me Something I must do, to procure me grace. The prince’s espials have inform'd me, How the English, in the suburbs close intrench’d^ Wont, though a secret grate of iron bars In yonder tower, to overpeer the city; And thence discover, how, with most advantage. They may vex us, with shot, or with assault. To intercept this inconvenience, A piece of ordnance ’gainst it I have plac’d ; And fully even those three days have I watch’d. It J could I see them. Now, boy, do thou watch, For 1 can stay no longer. If thou spy’st any, run and bring me word ; And thou shait find me at the governor’s. [exit. Son. Father, I warrant you; take yon no care; I’ll never trouble you, if I may spy them. Enter, in an upper chamber of a Tower, the Lords Salis¬ bury and Talbot, Sir William Glansdale, Sir Thomas Gargrave, and others. Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return’d! How wert thou handled, being prisoner ? Or by what means got’st thou to be releas’d ? Discourse, I pr’ythee, on this turret’s top. Tal. The duke of Bedford had a prisoner, Called the brave lord Ponton de Santrailles ; For him I was charg’d and ransomed. !CKNE IV. KING HENRY YI. 21 Bat with a baser man of arms by far, pnce, in contempt, they would have barter’d me : ■Which t, disdaining, scorn’d ; and craved death. Rather than I would be so pil’d esteem’d. In fine, redeem’d I was as I desir’d. But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart! Whom with my bare fists I would execute. If I now had him in my power. 1 Sal. Yet tell’st thou not, how thou wert entertain’d. Tal. With scoffs, and scorns, and contumelious In open market-place produc’d they me, [taunts j To be a public spectacle to ail; Here, said they, is the terror of the French, The scarecrow that affrights our children so. Then broke I from the officers that led me; And with my nails digg’d stones out of the ground. To hurl at the beholders of ray shame. My grisly countenance made others fly; None durst come near for fear of sudden death. In iron walls they deem’d me not secure ; So great fear of my name ’mongst them was spread, That they suppos’d, I could rend bars of steel. And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, That walk’d about me every minute-while j And if I did hut stir out of my bed, Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur’d ; But we will be reveng’d sufficiently. Now it is supper-time in Orleans : Here, through this grate, I can count every one. And vifew the Frenchmen how they fortify : Let us look in, the sight will much delight thee.— Sir Thomas Gargrave, and sir William Glansdale, Let me have your express opinions, Where is best place to make our battery next. 22 FIRST PART OF ACT Gar. I think, at the north gate; for there stand lord: I Gian. And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famish’d. Or with slight skirmishes enfeebled. [shot from the Town. Salisbury and Sir Thome \ Gargravefall. Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! Tal. What chance is this, that suddenly hath cross’i. Speak, Salisbury ; at least, if thou canst speak ; [us?— How far’st thou, mirror of all martial men ? One of tby eyes, and thy cheek’s side struck off! — Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand, That hath contriv’d this woful tragedy! In thirteen battles Salisbury o’ercame ; Henry the fifth he first train’d to the wars : Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, His sword did ne’er leave striking in the field.— Yet liv’st thou, Salisbury ? though thy speech doth One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace : [fail. The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.— Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands !— Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort: Thou shalt not die, whiles-- He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me; As who should say, When I am dead and gone, Remember to avenge me on the French .— Plantagenet, I will; and, Nero-like, Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn : Wretched shall France be only in my name. [thunder heard ; afterwards an alarum. What stir is this ? What tumult’s in the heavens ? 23 I scene v. KING HENRY VI. i| Whence cometh this alarum, and the noise ? Enter Messenger. Mess. My lord, mjlord, the French have gather’d head : j; The dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join’d,— A holy prophetess, new risen up,— Is come with a great power to raise the siege. [Salisbury groans. i Tal. Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan 1 It irks bis heart, he cannot be reveng’d.— Frenchmen, I’ll be a Salisbury toyou: — Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels. And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.— Convey me Salisbury into his tent, And then we’ll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. [exeunt* bearing out the Bodies. SCENE V. THESAMF. BEFORE ONE OF THE GATES. Alarum. Skirmishings . Talbotpursueth the Dauphin,and driveth him in: then enter Joan la Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot. Tal. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force ? Our English troops retire, 1 cannot stay them ; A woman, clad in armour, chaseththem. Enter La Pucelle. Here, here, she comes :--I’ll have about with thee. Devil, or devil’s dam, I’ll conjure thee : Elood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv’st. Puc. Come, come, ’tis only I that must disgrace thee. [theyfight. Tal. 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. u FIRST PART' OF ACT Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hoar is not yet come : I mast go victual Orleans forthwith. O’ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. Go, go ; cheer up thy hunger-starved men; Help Salisbury to make his testament: v '% This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Pucelle enters the town, with Soldiers I Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter’s wheel i I know not where I am, nor what I do ; A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists : So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench, Are from their hives, and houses, driven away. They call’d us, for our fierceness, English dogs ; Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. [a short alarum. Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight. Or tear the lions out of England’s coat; Renounce your soil, give sheep in lion’s stead : Sheep run not half so timorous from the wolf, Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard. As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. [ alarum . Another ildrmish, It will not be :—retire into your trenches: You all consented unto Salisbury’s death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.— Pucelle is enter’d into Orleans, In spite of us, Or aught that we could do. O, would I were to die with Salisbury! The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [ alarum. Retreat. Exeunt Talbot and Forces, fyc. SCENE VI. THE SAME. Enter, on the walls, Pucelle, Charles, Reignier, Alengon, and Soldiers. Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls ; SCENE VI. KING HENRY VI. 25 Rescu'd is Orleans from the English wolves s — Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform’d her word. Char. Divinest creature, bright Astraea’s daughter. How shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are like Adonis’ gardens. That one day bloom’d, and fruitful were the next.— France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!— Recover’d is the town of Orleans : More blessed hap did ne’er befal our state. [town ? Reig. Why ring not put the bells throughout the Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires. And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. Alen. All France will be replete with mirth and joy. When they shall hear how we have play’d the men. Char. ’Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won ; For which, I will divide my crown with her : And all the priests and friars in my realm Shall, in procession, sing her endless praise. A statelier pyramis to her I’ll rear, Than Rhodope’s, or Memphis’, ever was: In memory of her, when she is dead, Her ashes, in an urn more precious Than the rich jewel'd coffer of Darius, Transported shall be at high festivals. Before the kings and queens of France. No longer on saint Dennis will we cry. But Joan la Pucelle shall be France’s saint. Come in ; and let us banquet royally, After this golden day of victory. [ flourish. Exeunt. 20 FIRST PART OF ACT II ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. THE SAME. Entdr, to the gates, a French Sergeant and two Sentinels Serg. 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. 1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall, [exit Serg.] Thus are poor servitors (When others sleep upon their quiet beds). Constrain’d to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, and Forces, with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead march. Tal. 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, Having all day carous’d and banqueted : Embrace we then this opportunity: As fitting best to quittance their deceit. Contriv’d by art, and baleful sorcery. Bed. Coward of France!—how much he wrongs Despairing of his own arm’s fortitude, [his fame. To join with witches, and the help of hell. Bur. Traitors have never other company.—• But what’s that Pucelle, whom they term so pure ? Tal. A maid, they say. Bed. A maid ? and be so martial ? Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long ; If underneath the standard of the French, She carry armour, as she hath begun. [spirits: Tal. Well, let them practise and oonverse with God is our fortress ; in whose conquering name, Let us resolve'*to scale their flinty bulwarks. SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 27 Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. Tal. Not all logether: better far, I guess. That we do make our entrance several ways j That, if it chance the one of us do fail, The other yet may rise against their force. Bed. Agreed ; I’ll to yon corner. Bur. And I to this. Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. Now, Salisbury ! for thee, and for the right Of English Henry, shall this night appear How much in duty I am bound to both. [the English scale the walls, crying St. George ! a Talbot! and all enter by the town. Sent, [wit/iin.] Arm, arm! the enemy doth make assault! The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter , several waps, Bastard, Alencon, lieignier, half ready, and half unready. Alen. How now, my lords? what, all unready so ? Bast. Unready? ay, and glad we ’scap’d so well. P.eig. ’Twastime, I trow, to wake and leave our beds. Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow’d arms, Ne’er heard I of a warlike enterprise More venturous, or desperate, than this. Bast. I think, this Talbot be a fiend of hell. Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. Alen. Here cometh Charles ; l marvel, how he sped. Enter Charles and La Pucelle. Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard. Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame ? Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, Make us partakers of a little gain, f That now our loss might be ten times so much. Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend ? At all times will you have my power alike? Sleeping, or waking, must l still prevail. 28 FIRST PART OF ACT 1! 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. Char. Duke of Alen^on, this was your default; That, being captain of the watch to-night. Did look no better to that weighty charge. Alen . Had all your quarters been as safely kept, As that whereof I had the government, We had not been thus shamefully surpris’d. Bast. Mine was secure. Reig. And so was mine, my lord. Char. And, for myself, most part of all this night, Within her quarter, and mine own precinct, I was employ’d in passing to and fro, About relieving of the centinels : Then how, or which way, should they first break in ? Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case, How, or which way ; ’tis sure, they found some place But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. And now there rests no other shift but this,— To gather our soldiers, scatter’d and dispers’d. And lay new platforms to endamage them. Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying , A Talbot! a Talbot ! They fly, leaving their clothes behind. Sold. I’ll be so bold to take what they have left. The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword ; For I have loaden me with many spoils. Using no other weapon but his name. [exit. SCENE II. ORLEANS. WITHIN THE TOWN. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, a Captain, and others. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle overveil’d the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [retreat sounded. SCENE II. KING HENRY VI. 29 Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury; And here advance it in the market-place, The middle centre of this cursed town.— Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him, There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And, that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen’d in revenge of him. Within their chiefest temple I’ll erect A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr’d : Upon the which, that every one may read. Shall be engrav’d the sack of Orleans ; The treacherous manner of his mournful death. And what a terror he had been to France. But, lords, in ail our bloody massacre, I muse, we met not with the dauphin’s grace; His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc; Nor any of his false confederates. Bed. ’Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began. Rous’d on the sudden from their drowsy beds, They did, amongst the troops of armed men, Leap o’er the walls for refuge in the field. Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern, For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night), 4.in sure, I scar’d the dauphin, and his trull; When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves, rhat could not live asunder day or night. Vfter that things are set in order here, Ve’ll follow them with all the power we have. Enter a Messenger. Mess. All hail, my lords! which of this princely train }all ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts io much applauded through the realm of France ? Tal. Here is the Talbot; who would speak with him ? 30 FIRST PART OF ACT II, Mess. The virtuous lady, countess of Auvergne, With modesty admiring thy renown, By me entreats, good lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe To visit her poor castle where she lies ; That she may hoast, she hath beheld the man Whose glory fills the world with loud report. Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see, our wars Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, When ladies crave to be encounter’d with.— You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. Tal. Ne’er trust me then j for, when a world of men ! Could not prevail with all their oratory. Yet hath a woman’s kinduess overrul’d :— And therefore tell her, I return great thauks; And in submission will attend on her.— Will not your honours bear me company ? Bed. No, truly ; it is more than manners will; And I have heard it said,—Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone. Tal. Well then, alone, since there’s no remedy, I mean to prove this lady’s courtesy. [mind. Come hither, captain, [whispers .]—-You perceive my Capt. I do, my lord and mean accordingly. [exeunt. SCENE HI. AUVERGNE. COURT OF THE CASTLE. Enter the Countess and her Porter. Count, Porter, remember what I gave in charge ; And, when you have done so, bring the : keys to me. Porter. Madam, I will. [eaif. Count. The plot is laid : if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit. As Scythian Thomyrisby Cyrus’ death. Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight, And his achievements of no less account: Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, CENE III. KING HENRY VI. 31 Po give their censure of these rare reports. Enter Messenger and Talbot. Mess. Madam, Lccording as your ladyship desir’d, Jy message crav’d, so is lord Talbot come. Count. And he is welcome. What! is this the man ? Mess. Madam, it is. Count. Is this the scourge of France ? s this the Talbot, so much fear’d abroad, rhat with his name the mothers still their babes ? ' see, report is fabulous and false : thought, I should have seen some Hercules, 1 second Hector, for his grim aspect, knd large proportion of his strong-knit limbs, lias! this is a child, a silly dwarf: t cannot be, this weak and writhled shrimp, ihould strike such terror to his enemies. Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you : 3ut since your ladyship is not at leisure, ’ll sort some other time to visit you. [he goes ? Count. What means he now ?—Go ask him, whither Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady craves f"o know the cause of your abrupt departure, j! Tal. Marry, for that she’s in a wrong belief, go to certify her, Talbot’s here. Re-enter Porter, with keys. Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Tal. Prisoner! to whom ? ; Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord ; i.nd for that cause I train’d thee to my house. jong time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, \>r in my gallery thy picture hangs : Jut now the substance shall endure the like ; |nd I will chain these legs and arms of thine, 'hat hast, by tyranny, these many years, f/asted our country, slain our citizens, 32 FIRST PART OF ACT I! And sent our sons and husbands captivate. Tal. Ha, ha, ha! [to moan Count. Laughest thou, wretch ? thy mirth shall tun Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond, To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow. Wherein to practise your severity. Count. Why, art not thou the man ? Tal. I am, indeed. Count. Then have I substance too. Tal. Mo, no, I am but shadow of myself: You are deceiv’d, my substance is not here; For what you see, is but the smallest part And least proportion of humanity : I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here. It is of such a spacious lofty pitch, Your roof were not sufficient to contain it. Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce ; He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree ? Tal. That wilt I show you presently. He winds a horn. Drums heard ; then a peal of ord > nance. The gates being forced, enter Soldiers. How say you, madam P are you now persuaded. That Talbot is but shadow of himself? These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength. With which he yoketh your rebellious necks ; Razetfa your cities, and subverts your towns. And in a moment makes them desolate. Count. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse : I find, thou art no less than fame hath bruited ; And more than may be gather’d by thy shape. Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath ; For 1 am sorry, that with reverence I did not entertain thee as thou art. Tal. Be not dismay’d, fair lady ; nor misconstrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake SCENE IV. KING HENRY VI. 33 Hie outward composition of bis body. IVhat you have done, bath not offended me : No other satisfaction do I crave, But only (with jour patience), that we may raste of your wine, and see what cates you have ; For soldiers’ stomachs always serve them well. Count. With all my heart: and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in iny house. [exeunt. SCENE IV. LONDON. THE TEMPLE GARDEN. Enter the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick; Richard Pluntagenet, Vernon, and another Lawyer. Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this Dare no man answer in a case of truth ? [silence ? Suff. Within the Temple hall we were too loud ; The garden here is more convenient. Plan. Then say at once, if I maintain’d the truth ; Or, else was wrangling Somerset iu the error? Stiff. ’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. [us. Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth ; iJBetween two blades, which bears the better temper; Between two horses, which doth bear him best; I Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye; I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgment: But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, l am no wiser than a daw. Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance: The truth appears so naked on my side. That any purblind eye may find it out. Som. And on my side it is so well apparell’d, !,5o clear, so shining, and so evident, That it will glimmer through a blind man’s eye. i> 34 FIRST PART OF act i: Plan. Since yon are tongue-tied, and so loth to speak. In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts : Let him, that is a true-born gentleman, And stands upon the Lonourof his birth. If he suppose that I have pleaded truth. From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. Som. 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. War. I love no colours; and, without all colour Of base insinuating flattery, I pluck this white rose, with Plantageriet. Stiff. I pluck this red rose, with young Somerset; And say withal, 1 think he held the right. Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen : and pluck no more. Till you conclude—that he, upon whose side The fewest Coses are cropp’d from the tree. Shall yield the other in the right opinion. Som. Good master Vernon, it is well objected; If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence. Plan . And I. Ver. 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. Sum. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off; Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red, And fall on my side so against your will. Ver. 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. Sum. Well, well, come on : who else ? Law. Unless my study and my books be false. The argument you held was wrong in you ; [to Som. In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument ? Som. Here, in my scabbard ; meditating that. Shall die your white rose in a bloody red. ENE IV. KING HENRY VI. 35 Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our or pale they look with fear, as witnessing [roses ; he truth on our side. Som. No, Plantagenet, "is not for fear ; but anger,—that thy cheeks lush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses; nd yet thy tongue will not. confess thy error. Plan. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset ? Sam. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet ? Plan. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth ; Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood, Som. Well, I’ll find friends to wear my bleeding hat shall maintain what I have said is true, [roses, inhere false Plantagenet dare not be seen. | Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, jscorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. , Stiff. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. I Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and |i Suff. I’ll turn my part thereof into thy throat, [thee. ! Som. Away, away, good William De-la-Poole ! Ve grace the yeoman, by conversing with him. I War. Now, by God’s will, thou wrong’st him, Somer- |is grandfather was Lionel, duke of Clarence, [set; lird son to the third Edward, king of England ; )ring crestless yeomen from so deep a root ? Plan. He bears him on the place’s privilege, r durst not, for his craven heart, say thus. Som. By him that made me, I’ll maintain my ivords ti any plot of ground in Christendom : jas not thy father, Richard, earl of Cambridge, ir treason executed in our late king’s days ? id, by his treason, stand’st not thou attainted, irrupted, and exempt from antient gentry ? is trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood; id, till thou be restor’d, thou art a yeoman. . Plan. My father was attached, not attainted ; ndemn’d to die for treason, but no traitor ; 36 FIRST PART OF ACT II And that I’ll prove on better men than Somerset, Were growing time once ripen’d to my will. For jour partaker Poole, and you yourself. I’ll note you in my book of memory, To scourge you for this apprehension : Look to it well; and say you are well warn’d. Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still: And know us, by these colours, for thy foes ; For these my friends, in spite of thee, shall wear. Plan. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate. Will I for ever, and my faction, wear; Until it wither with me to my grave, Or flourish to the height of my degree. Suff. Go forward, and be chok’d with tby ambition And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [exit Som. Have with thee, Poole.—Farewell, ambitiou Richard. [exiti Plan. How I am brav’d, and must perforce endure it War. This blot, that they object against your house Shall be wip’d out in the next parliament, Call’d for the truce of Winchester and Gloster : And, if thou be not then created York, I will not live to be accounted Warwick. Mean time, in signal of my love to thee, Against proud Somerset, and William Poole, Will I upon thy party wear this rose : And here I prophecy,—This brawl to-day. Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night. Plan. Good master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same. Law. And so will I. Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner : I dare say, SCENE V. KING HENRY VI. 37 This quarrel will drink blood another day. [exit. SCENE V. THE SAME. A BOOM IN THE TOWER. Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair by two Keepers. Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age. Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.— Even like a man new haled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment: And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death. Nestor-like aged, in an age of care. Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. These eyes,—like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,— Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent: Weak shoulders, overborne with hurd’ning grief; And pithless arms, like to a wither’d vine, That droops his sapless branches to the ground.— Yet are these feet—whose strengthless stay is numb. Unable to support this lump of clay,— Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, As witting I no other comfort have.— 3ut tell me, keeper, will my nephew come ? I Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come : We sent unto the Temple, to his chamber; And answer was return’d, that he will come. Mor. Enough ; my soul shall then be satisfied.— J oor gentleman ! his wrong doth equal mine. Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign ; Before whose glory I was great in arms), ‘This loathsome sequestration have I had ; And even since then hath Richard been obscur’d, depriv’d of honour and inheritance : iut now, the arbitrator of despairs, ust death, kind umpire of men’s miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence; would, his troubles likewise were expir’d, phut so he might recover what was lost. Enter Richard Plantagenet. 1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now is oome. 38 FIRST PART OF Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend ? Is he Plan. Ay, noble ancle, thus ignobly us’d, Your nephew, late-despised Richard, comes. Mor. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck. And in his bosom spend my latter gasp : O, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting kiss,— And now declare, sweet stem from York’s great stocl Why didst thou say—of late thou wert despis’d ? Plan. First lean thine aged back against mine arm And, in that ease. I’ll tell thee my disease. This day, in argument upon a case, Some words there grew ’twixt Somerset and me : Among which terms he us’d his lavish tongue, And did upbraid me with my father’s death ; Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, Else with the like I had requited him : Therefore, good uncle,—for my father’s sake, In honour of a true Plantagenet, And for alliance’ sake,—declare the cause My father, earl of Cambridge, lost his head. Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison’d me, And hath detain’d me, all my flowering youth. Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, Was cursed instrument of his decease. Plan. Discover more at large what cause that was; For I am ignorant, and cannot guess. Mor. I will; if that my fading breath permit, And death approach not ere my tale be done. Henry the fourth, grandfather to this king. Depos’d his nephew Richard : Edward’s son, The first-begotten, and the lawfal heir Of Edward king, the third of that descent: During whose reign, the Percies of the north^ Finding his usurpation most upjust, Endeavour’d my advancement to the throne : The reason mov’d these warlike lords to this, ACT ] j com< scene v. KING HENRY VI. S9 (Was—for that (young king Richard thus remov’d, I Leaving no heir begotten of his body), ji I was the next by birth and parentage ; For by my mother I derived am From Lionel, duke of Clarence, the third son To king Edward the third ; whereas he, From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree, Being but fourth of that heroic line. But mark ; as, in this haughty great attempt. They laboured to plant the rightful heir, I lost my liberty, and they their lives. Long after this, when Henry the fifth,— Succeeding his father Bolingbroke,—did reign, Thy father, earl of Cambridge,—then deriv’d < From famous Edmund Langley, duke of York,— Marrying my sister, that thy mother was, Again, in pity of my hard distress. Levied an army ; weening to redeem. And have install’d me in the diadem: But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl, , And was beheaded, Thus the Mortimers, In whom the title rested, were suppress’d. Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the last. Mor. True; and thou seest, that I no issue have ; And that my fainting words do warrant death: Thou art my heir; the rest, l wish thee gather: But yet be wary in thy studious care. Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me : But yet, methinks, my father’s execution Was nothing less than bloody tyranny. Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politic; Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster, And, like a mountain, not to be remov’d. But now thy uncle is removing hence ; As princes do their courts, when they are cloy’d With long continuance in a settled place. Plan. O, uncle,’would some part of my young years ACT III 40 FIRST PART OF Might but redeem the passage of your age ! Mor. Thou dost then wrong me; as the slauglit’rei! Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill, [doth Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good: Only, give order for my funeral; And so farewell; and fair.be all thy hopes! And prosperous be thy life, in peace and war! [dies.! Flan. And peace, no war, befal thy parting soul! In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, And like a hermit overpass’d thy days.— Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; And what 1 do imagine, let that rest.— Keepers, convey him hence ; and I myself Will see his burial better than his life.— [exeunt Keepers, bearing out Mortimer. Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Chok’d with ambition of the meaner sort: — And, for those wrongs, those bitter injuries. Which Somerset hath offer’d to my house,— I doubt not, but with honour to redress : And therefore haste I to the parliament; Either to be restored to my blood, Or make my ill the advantage of my good. [exit. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. THE SAME. THE PARLIAMENT-HOUSE. Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Gloster, Warwick, Somerset, and Suffolk ; the Bishop of Winchester, Richard Plantaeenet, and others. Gloster offers to put up a Bill; Winchester snatches it, and tears it. Win. Com’st thou with deep premeditated lines, Willi written pamphlets studiously devis’d, Humphrey of Gloster ? If thou canst accuse. Or aught intend’st to lay unto my charge. Do it without invention suddenly ; SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 41 As I with sudden and extemporal speech Purpose to answer what thou canst object, [patience, Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour’d me. Think not, although in writing I preferr’d The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes. That therefore I have forg’d, or am not able i Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: No, prelate ; such is thy audacious wickedness. Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissentious pranks. As very infant’s 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 ; iAnd for thy treachery,-what’s more manifest? In that thou laid’st a trap to take my life. As well at London-bridge, as at the Tower? Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted. The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt From envious malice of thy swelling heart. Win. Gloster, I do defy thee. —Lords, vouchsafe To give me hearing what I shall reply. If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse. As he will have me, how am I so poor ? Or how haps it, I seek not to advance Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling? And for dissension, who preferreth peace More than I do,—except I be provok’d ? No, my good lord, it is not that offends; It is not that, that hath incens’d the duke : It is, because no one should sway but he ; jNo one, but he, should be about the king-; And that engenders thunder in his breast. And makes him roar these accusations forth. But he shall know, I am as good— Glo. As good ? ACT III 42 FIRST PART OF Thou bastard of my grandfather!— Win. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray, But one imperious in another’s throne ? Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest P Win. And am l not a prelate of the church ? Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps. And useth it to patronage his theft. Win. Unreverent Gloster! Glo. Thou art revereut Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. Win. This Rome shall remedy. War. Roam thither then. Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. War. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. Som. Methinks, my lord should be religious, And know the office that belongs to such. War. Methinks, his lordship should be humbler; It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch’d so near. War. Slate holy, or unhallow’d, what of that ? Is not his grace protector to the king ? Plan , Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue; Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should ; Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords ? Else would I have a fling at Winchester. [aside. K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal ; I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown. That two such noble peers as ye, should jar! Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell. Civil dissension is a viperous worm. That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.— What tumult’s this ? [a noise j within. War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop’s men. [a noise. SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 43 Enter the Mayor of London, attended. May. O, my good lords,—and virtuous Henry,— j Pity the city of London, pity ns ! j The bishop and the duke of Gloster’s men. Forbidden late to carry any weapon, i Have fill’d their pockets full of pebble-stones; And, banding themselves in contrary parts. Do pelt so fast at one another’s pate, That many have their giddy brains knock’d out: Our windows are broke down.in every street, And we, for fear, compell’d to shut our shops. Enter, skirmishing , the retainers of Gloster and Win¬ chester, with bbody pates. K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself. To hold your slaught’ring hands, and keep the peace. J Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be ] Forbidden stones, we’ll fall to’t with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, And set this unaccustom’d fight aside. 3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, ! Inferior to none, but his majesty: And, ere that we will suffer such a prince, | So kind a father of the commonweal, 1 To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate. We, and our wives, and children, all will fight. And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes. 1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails I Shall pitch a field, when we are dead. [ skirmish again. Glo. Stay, stay, stay! And, if yon love me, as you say you do, ! Let me persuade you to forbear awhile. K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold 44 act III, FIRST PART OF My sighs and tears, and will not once relent Who should be pitiful, if you be not ? Or who should study to prefer a peace. If holy churchmen take delight in broils ? War. My lord protector, yieldyield, Winches¬ ter Except you mean, with obstinate repulse, To slay your sovereign, and destroy the realm. You see what mischief, and what murder too. Hath been enacted through your enmity ; Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood. Win. He shall submit, or I will never yield. Glo. Compassion on the king commands me stoop : Or, I would see his heart out, ere the priest Should ever get that privilege of me. War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke Hath banished moody discontented fury, As by his smoothed brows it doth appear : Why look you still so stern and tragical ? Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. A. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach. That malice was a great and grievous sin : And will not you maintain the thing you teach, But prove a chief offender in the same ? War. Sweet king!—tbe bishop hath a kindly J or shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; [gird_ VVhat, shall a child instruct you what to do ? Win. Well, duke of Gloster, I will yield to thee: -Love for thy love, and hand for hand, I give. Glo. Ay; but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.— See here, my friends, and loving countrymen; This token serveth for a flag of truce. Betwixt ourselves, ancj all our followers : So help me God, as 1 dissemble not! lYtn. So help me God, as I intend it not! [aside. A. Hen. O loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, SCENE I. KING HENRY VI. 45 How joyful am I made by this contract! Away, my masters ! trouble us no more ; But join in friendship, as your lords have done. 1 Serv. Content; I’ll to the surgeon’s. 1 2 Serv . And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. [exeunt Servants, Mayor, fyc. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which in the right of Richard Planlagenet We do exhibit to your majesty. Glo. Well urg’d, my lord of Warwick;—for, sweet jiAn if your grace mark every circumstance, [prince. You have great reason to do Richard right: Especially, for those occasions At Eltbam-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force : Therefore,my loving lords, our pleasure is. That Richard be restored to his blood. War. Let Richard be restored to his blood ; So shall his father’s wrongs be recompens’d. Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. K. Hen. If Richard will be true, notthat alone. But all the whole inheritance I give, That doth belong unto the house of York, From whence you spring by lineal descent. Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience. And humble service, till the point of death. K. Hen. Stoop, then, and set your knee against my And, in reguerdon of that duty done, [foot; I girt thee with the valiant sword of York : Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet; And rise, created princely duke of York. Plan. And so thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall! And as my duty springs, so perish they That grudge one thought against your maiesty ! All. Welcome, high prince, the mighty duke of York! j 46 FIRST PART OF ACT 1 Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York ! [«s. Glo. Now will it best avail jour majesty, To cross the seas, and to be crown’d in France : The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his loyal friends; As it disanimates his enemies. K. Hen. When (Iloster says the word, king Henry For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. [goes; Glo. Your ships already are in readiness. [exeunt all but Exeter. Exe. Ay, we may march in England, or in France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue : This late dissension grown betwixt the peers, Burns under feigned ashes of forg’d love, And will at last break out into a flarne : As fester’d members rot but by degrees, Till bones, and flesh, and sinews, fall away. So will this base and envious discord breed. And now I fear that fatal prophecy, Which, in the time of Henry, nam’d the fifth, Was in the mouth of every sucking babe,-*- > Tfiat Henry, born at Monmouth, should win all; And Henry, born at Windsor, should lose all : Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish His days may finish ere that hapless time. [exit. SCENE II. FRANCE. BEFORE ROUEN. Enter La Pucelle disguised, and Soldiers dressed like Countrymen, with socks upon their backs. Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach : Take heed, be wary how yon place your words; Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men, That eomtf to gather money for their corn. If we have entrance (as, I hope, we shall), And that we find the slothful watch but weak. I’ll by assign give notice to our friends, That Charles the dauphin, may encounter them. KING HENRY VI. 47 1 Sold. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city, nd we be lords and rulers over Rouen ; jrherefore we’ll knock. [knocks. | Guard, [wif/im] Qui est la? Puc. Paisans,pauvresgens de France: ^oor market-folks, that come to sell their corn. Guard. Enter, go in; the market-bell is rung. [opens the gates. I Puc. Now, Rouen, I’ll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Pucelle, #c. enter the city. 1 Inter Charles, Bastard of Orleans, Alengon, and Forces. Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem ! iiid once again we’ll sleep secure in Rouen. ! Bast. Here enter’d Pucelle, and her practisants; iiow she is there, how will she specify Where is the best and safest passage in ? Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower ; Which, once discern’d, shows, that her meaning is,— Jo way to that, for weakness, which she enter’d. Inter La Pucelle on a battlement; holding out a torch burning. Puc. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, 'batjoineth Rouen unto her countrymen ; fat burning fatal to the Talbotites. Bast. See, noble Charles! the beacon of our friend, "he burning torch in yonder turret stands. Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, j ; . prophet to the fall of all our foes ! Alen. Defer no time; delays have dangerous ends ; piter, and cry— The Dauphin! —presently, Mid then do ^tecution on the watch. [they enter. Alarum£ Enter Talbot and certain English. j Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy Talbot but survive thy treachery.-— [tears, Sfucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress, lath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, Ihat hardly we escap’d the pride of France, [exeunt. 48 FIRST PART OF act nr. Alarum: Excursions. Enter, from the Town, Bedford, brought in sick, in a chair, with Talbot, Burgundy, and the English Forces. Then, enter on the walls, La Pucelle, Charles, Bastard, Adencon, and others. Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for I think, the Duke of Burgundy will fast, [bread? Before he’ll buy again at such a rate : *Twas full of darnel ; do you like the taste? Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless courtezan ! I trust, ere long, to choke thee with thine own, And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. Char. Your grace may starve, perhaps, before that time. [son! Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this trea- Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard ? break a And run a tilt at death within a chair ? [lance, Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encompass’d with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardice a man half dead ? Damsel, I’ll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. Puc. Are you so hot, sir?—Yet, Pucelle, hold thy If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.— [peace ; [Talbot and the rest consult together. God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field ? Puc. Belike, your lordship takes us then for fools. To try if that our own be ours, or no. Tal. I speak not to that railing Hecate, But unto thee, Alenf on, and the rest: Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight ,it out ? Alen. Signior, no. Tal. Signior, hang !—base muleteers of France ! Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls ; And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. Puc Captains, away ; let’s get us from the walls ; For Talbot means no goodness, by his looks.—• SCENE II. KING HENRY VI. 49 God be wi’ yon, iny lord ! we came, sir, but to tell you That we are here. [ez. La Pucelle, fyc. from the walls. Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Or else reproach beTalbot’s greatest fame!— Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house (Prick’d on by public wrongs, sustain’d in France), Either to get the town again, or die: And 1,—as sure as English Henry lives, And as his father here was conqueror ; As sure as in this iate-belrayed town Great Coeur-de-lion’s heart was buried : So sure 1 swear, to get the town, or die. Bur. My vows are equal partners with thy vows. Tal. But, ere we go, regard this dying prince, The valiant Duke of Bedford :—come, my lord, We will bestow you in some better place, Fitter for sickness, and for crazy age. Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me : [Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen, And will be partner of your weal, or woe. [you. I Bur. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read, That stout Pendragon, in his litter, sick. Came to the field, and vanquished his foes: Metbinks, I should revive the soldiers’hearts, ^Because I ever found them as myself, i Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast! — (Then be it so :—Heavens keep old Bedford safe !— And now no more ado, brave Burgundy; jljRiit gather we our forces out of hand, |And set upon our boasting enemv. [exeunt Burgundy, Talbot, and Forces ; leaving > Bedford and others. [Alarum ; excursions. Enter Sir John Fastolfe, and a Captain. Capt. Whither away,sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? 50 FIRST PART OF ACT 111. Fast. Whither away ? to save myself by flight; We are like to have the overthrow again. Capt. What! will you fly, and leave lord Talbot ? Fast. Ay, All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. [exit. Capt. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! [exit. Retreat: excursions. Enter, from the town, La Pu- celle, Alertgon, Charles, cbne III. KING HENRY VI. 75 (’ll lop a member off, and give it you. In earnest of a farther benefit ; So you do condescend to help me now.— |No hope to have redress ?—My body shall )'Pay recompense, if you will grant iny suit. J Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice, Entreat you to your wonted furtherance ? Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all, Before that England give the French the foil. [they depart. I See ! they forsake me. Now the time is come, ijThat France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, i And let her head fall into England’s lap. My antient incantations are too weak, And hell too strong for me to buckle with :— Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [exit. Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting. La Pucelle and York fight hand to hand. La Pa celle is taken. The French fiy. York. Damsel of France, I think, I have you fast: Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms. And try if they can gain your liberty.— A goodly prize, fit for the devil’s grace ! See, how the ugly witch doth bend her brows, As if, with Circe, she would change my shape. Puc. Chang’d to a worser shape thou canst not be. York. O, Charles the dauphin is a proper man ; No shape but his can please your dainty eye. Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and thee! And may ye both be suddenly surpris’d By bloody hands,in sleeping on your beds! York. Fell, banning hag! enchantress, hold thy tongue. Puc. I pr’ythee,give me leave to curse awhile. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [exeunt. 76 FIRST PART OF ACT T' Alarums. Enter Suffolk, leading in Lady Margaret. Suff. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner O fairest beanty, do not fear, nor fly; [gazes on her ror J will touch thee but with reverent hands. And lay them gently on thy tender side. I kiss these fingers [kissing her hand] for eternal peace; Who art thon ? say, that I may honour thee. Mar. Margaret my name : and daughter to a king. The king of Naples, whosoe’er thou art. Suff. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call’d. Be not offended, nature’s miracle, Thou art allotted to be ta’en by me : So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings. Yet, if this servile usage once offend, Go, and be free again as Suffolk’s friend. [she turns away, as going. U, stay ! I have no power to let her pass; My hand would free her, but my heart says—no. A.s plays the sun upon the glassy streams. Twinkling another counterfeited beam. So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak : I’ll call for pen and ink, and write my mind: Fie, De la Poole ! disable not thyself; Hast not a tongue ? is she not here thy prisoner ? Wilt thou be daunted at a woman’s sight ? Ay ; beauty’s princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk,—if thy name be so,— What ransom must I pay before I pass ? For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner. Suff. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit. Before thou make a trial of her love ? [aside. Mar . Why speak’st thou not? what ransom must I pay? Suff. She’s beautiful; and therefore to be woo’d: CENE III. KING HENRY VI. 77 She is a woman; therefore to be won. [aside. Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no ? Suff. Fond man ! remember, that thou hast a wife ; Then how can Margaret be thy paramour ? [aside. Mar. 1 were best leave him, for he will not hear. Suff. There all is rnarr’d; there lies a cooling card. Mar. He talks at random; sure the man is mad, Suff. And yet a dispensation may be had. Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. Suff. I’ll win this lady Margaret. For whom ? iVhy, for my king ; tush ! that’s a wooden thing. ! Mar. He talks of wood : it is some carpenter. ! Suff. Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, And peace established between these realms. But there remains a scruple in that too : For, though her father be the king of Naples, Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, And our nobility will scorn the match. [aside. Mar. Hear ye, captain ? Are you not at leisure P Suff, It shall be so, disdain they ne’er so much : Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.— Madam, I have a secret to reveal. [knight, j Mar. What though I be enthrall’d ? he seems a And will not any way dishonour me. [pside. Suff. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu’d by the French ; And then I need not crave his courtesy. [aside. Suff. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause— Mar. Tush! women have been captivate eve nov \ [a. 'a e. 1 Suff. Lady, wherefore talk you so ? Mar. I cry you mercy, ’tis but quid for quo. Suff. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose Your bondage happy, to be made a queen ? Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, Than is a slave in base servility; For princes should be free. 78 FIRST PART OP act \ I Suff. And so shall you, If happy England’s royal king be free. fZ' Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? Ovff. 111 undertake to make thee Henry’s queen ; i o put a golden sceptre in thy hand. And set a precious crown upon thy head, If thou wilt condescend to be mv_ Mar. What ? Suff. His love. Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry’s wife. Suff. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am To woo so fair a dame to be his wife, And have no portion in the choice myself. How say you, madam ; are you so content ? Mar. An if my father please, I am content. Suff. Then call our captains, and our colours, forth And, madam, at your father’s castle walls We’ll crave a parley, to confer with him. A parley sounded. Enter Reignier , on the walls. Siiff. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Reig. To whom ? Suff., To me. Reig. Suffolk, what remedy ? I am a soldier ; and unapt to weep, Or to exclaim on fortune’s fickleness. Suff. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord : Consent (and, for thy honour, give consent). Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king; Whom I with pain have woo’d and won thereto ; And this her easy-held imprisonment Hath gain’d thy daughter princely liberty. Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks ? Suff. Fair Margaret knows, That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend. To give thee answer of thy just demand. [exitfrom the walls. CENE III. KING HENRY VI. 79 Stiff. And here I will expect thy coining. Trumpets sounded. Enter Reignier, below. Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories; Command in Anjou what your honour pleases. Suff. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child, kit to be made companion with a king: [Vhat answer makes your grace unto my suit ? Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth, 'o be the princely bride of such a lord; tjpon condition I may quietly ?njoy mine own, the county Maine, and Anjou, i’ree from oppression, or the stroke of war, rly daughter shall be Henry’s, if he please. Suff. That is her ransom, I deliver her: ind those two counties, I will undertake, f our grace shall well and quietly enjoy. Reig. And I again,—in Henry’s royal name, is deputy unto that gracious king,— Jive thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith. Suff. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks, lecause this is in traffic of a king ? md yet, methinks, I could be well content Fo be mine own attorney in this case. [aside. ’ll over then to England with this news, tnd make this marriage to be solemniz’d; |o, farewell, Reignier ! Set this diamond safe n golden palaces, as it becomes. Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace ’he Christian prince, king Henry, were he here. Mar. Farewell, my lord; good wishes, praise, and prayers, Iball Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [going- Suff. Farewell, sweet madam ! But hark you, Mar- Jo princely commendations to my king ? [garet; Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, virgin, and his servant, say to him. Suff. Words sweetly plac’d, and modestly directed. 80 FIRST PART OF ACT iji' But, madam, I must trouble you again,— No loving token to his majesty ? Mar. Yes, my good lord : a pure unspotted hear / Never yet taint with love, I send the king. Suff. And this withal. [kissing he r Mar. That for thyself;—I will not so presume, To send such peevish tokens to a king. [exeunt Reignier and Mar gar ei Suff. O, wert thou for myself!—But, Suffolk, stay Thou may’st not wander in that labyrinth ; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise : Bethink 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, j Thou may’st bereave him of his wits with wonder, [ad SCENE IV. CAMP OF THE DUKE OF YORK, If '! ANJOU. Enter York, Warwick, and others. York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn’d t burn. Enter La Pucelle, guarded, and a Shepherd. Shep. Ah, Joan; this kills thy father’s heart outil Have I sought every country far and near, [right And, now it is my chance to find thee out, Must I behold thy timeless cruel death ? Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I’ll die with thee! '! Rue. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch ! I am descended of a gentler blood ; Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine. Shep. Out, out!—My lords, an please you, ’tis noc 1 I did beget her, all the parish knows: [so Her mother liveth yet, can testify She was the first-fruit of my bachelorship. War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage? p£NE IV. KING HENRY VI. 81 f York. This argues what her kind of life hath been ; flicked and vile; aud so her death concludes. t Shep. Fie, Joan ! that thou wilt be so obstacle! od knows, thou art a collop of my flesh ; nd for thy sake have I shed many a tear: ►enymenot, I pr’ythee, gentle Joan. Puc. Peasant, avaunt!—You have suborn’d this f purpose to obscure m} T noble birth. [man, Shep. ’Tistrue, I gave a noble to the priest, he morn that I was wedded to her mother.— ^eel down and take my blessing, good, my girl. Vilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time f thy nativity ! I would, the milk by mother gave thee, when thou snck’dst her breast, fad been a little ratsbane for thy sake ! r else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield, l wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee ! ost thou deny thy father, cursed drab ? , burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [exit. i York. Take her away ; for she hath liv’d too long, id fill the world with vicious qualities, j Puc. First, let me tell you whom you have con- pot me begotten of a shepherd swain, [demn’d : ht issu’d from the progeny of kings; iirtuous, and holy ; chosen from above, y inspiration of celestial grace, j work exceeding miracles on earth, never had to do with wicked spirits : jt'you that are polluted with your lusts, aiu’d with the guiltless blood of innocents, >rrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,— jcause you want the grace that others have, ou judge it straight a thing impossible > compass wonders, but by help of devils. >, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been virgin from her tender infancy, G 82 FIRST PART OF ACT V. Chaste and immaculate in every thought; Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus’d, Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven. York. Ay, ay ;—away with her to execution. War. And hark ye, sirs: because she is a maid, Spare for no faggots, let there be enough : Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, That so her torture may be shortened. Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts ?— Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity; That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.— I am with child, ye bloody homicides: Murder not then the fruit within my womb. Although ye hale me to a violent death. [child ? York. Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with War. The greatest miracle that e’er ye wrought: Is all your strict preciseness come to this ? York. She and the dauphin have been juggling : I did imagine what would be her refuge. War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live ; Especially, since Charles must father it. Puc. You are deceiv’d; my child is none of his ; It was Alen^on, that enjoy’d my love. York. Alenpon! that notorious Machiavel! It dies, an if it had a thousand lives. Puc. O, give me leave, I have deluded you ; ’Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam’d, But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail’d. War. A married man! that’s most intolerable. York. Why, here’s a girl! I think, she knows not There were so many, whom she may accuse. [well, War. It’s sign, she hath been liberal and free. York. And, yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure !— Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee : Use no entreaty, for it is in vain. Puc. Then lead me hence;—with whom I leave my May never glorious sun reflex his beams [curse : SCENE IV. KING HENRY VI. 83 Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you; till mischief, and despair, Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves ! [exit, guarded. York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes, ! Thou foul accursed minister of hell! Enter Cardinal Beaufort, attended. Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence ! With letters of commission from the king. For know, my lords, the states of Christendom, ! Mov’d with remorse of these outrageous broils, Have earnestly implor’d a general peace i Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French ; And here at hand the dauphin, and his train, (Approacheth, to confer about some matter. York. Is all our travail turn’d to this effect? I After the slaughter of so many peers, So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers, That in this quarrel have been overthrown, |And sold their bodies for their country’s benefit, Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace? [Have we not lost most part of all the towns, By treason, falsehood, and by treachery, |Our great progenitors had conquered ? O, Warwick, Warwick ! I foresee with grief, The utter loss of all the realm of France. War. Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace, It shall be with such strict and severe covenants, :As little shall the Frenchman gain thereby. )Enter Charles, attended ; Alengon, Bastard, Reignier, and others. 1 Char. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, That peaceful truce shall be proclaim’d in France, We ome to be informed by yourselves jWhat the conditions of that league must.be. York. Speak, Winchester; for boiling cboler chokes ■I 84 FIRST PART OF ACT V. The hollow passage of my poison’d voice. By sight of these oar baleful enemies. Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus : That—in regard king Henry gives consent, Of mere compassion, and of lenity, To ease your country of distressful war, And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,— You shall become true liegemen to his crown : And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear To pay him tribute, and submit thyself. Thou shalt be plac’d as viceroy under him. And still enjoy thy regal dignity. Alen. 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. Char. ’Tis known already, that I am possess’d With more than half the Gallian territories. And therein reverenc’d for their lawful king : Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish’d. Detract so much from that prerogative, As to be call’d but viceroy of the whole ? No,lord ambassador ; I’ll rather keep That which I have, than, coveting for more. Be cast from possibility of all. York. Insulting Charles ! hast thou by secret means Us’d intercession to obtain a league ; And, now the matter grows to compromise, Staud’st thou aloof upon comparison? Either accept the title thou usurp’st, Of benefit proceeding from our king, And not of any challenge of desert. Or we will plague thee with incessant wars. Reig. My lord, you do not well in obstinacy To cavil in the course of this contract: If once it be neglected, ten to one, SCENE V. KING HENRY VI. 85 We shall not find like opportunity. Alen. To say the truth, it is your policy, |To save your subjects from such massacre. And ruthless slaughters, as are daily seen By our proceeding in hostility : And therefore take this compact of a truce, Although you break it when your pleasure serves. [aside, to Charles. War. How say’st thou,Charles? shall our condition stand ? Char. It shall: iOnly reserv’d, you claim no interest In any of our towns of garrison. ! York. Then swear allegiance to his majesty; As thou art knight, never to disobey, Nor be rebellious to the crown of England, Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England. [Charles and the rest give tokens of fealty. So now dismiss your army when ye please ; Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still, For here we entertain a solemn peace. [exeunt. j SCENE V. LONDON. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. Enter King Henry, in conference with Suffolk; Glos- ter and Exeter following. I K. Hen. Your wondrous rare description, noble earl, pf beauteous Margaret, hath astonish’d me : ier virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love’s settled passions in my heart: ind like as rigour in tempestuous gusts •rovokes the mightiest hulk against the tide ; }o am I driven, by breath of her renown, Sither to suffer shipwreck, or arrive Vhere I may have fruition of her love. Svff. Tush ! my good lord ! this superficial tale js but a preface of her worthy praise : 86 ACT T FIRST PART OF The chief perfections of that lovely dame (Had I sufficient skill to utter them), Would make a volume of enticing lines, Able to ravish any dull conceit. And, which is more, she is not so divine, So full replete with choice of all delights, But,.with as humble lowliness of mind, She is content to be at your command ; Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents, To love and honour Henry as her lord. H en ' And otherwise will Henry ne’er presume Therefore, my lord protector, give consent, That Margaret may be England’s royal queen. Glo. So should I give consent to flatter sin. You know, my lord, your highness is betroth’d Tnto another lady of esteem ; How shall we then dispense with that contract, And not deface your honour with reproach ? Svff, As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths ; Or one, that, at a triumph having vow’d To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists By reason of his adversary’s odds : A poor earl’s daughter is unequal odds, And therefore may be broke without offence. Glo. Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than that Her father is no better than an earl. Although in glorious titles he excel. ^ u ff- Yes, my good lord, her father is a king, The king of Naples, and Jerusalem ; And of such great authority in France, As his alliance will confirm our peace, And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance. trio. And so the earl of Armagnac may do. Because he is near kinsman unto Charles. Exe. Beside, his wealth doth warrant liberal dower | While Reignier sooner will receive, than give. Suff. A dower, my lords! disgrace not so your king ^CENE V. KING HENRY VI. 87 rhat he should be so abject, base, and poor, ro choose for wealth, and not for perfect love. Henry is able to enrich his queen, mid not to seek a queen to make him rich : So worthless peasants bargain for their wives, M market-men for oxen, sheep, or horse. jVlarriage is a matter of more worth, ilian to be dealt in by attorneyship ; Not whom we will, but whom his grace affects, Must be companion of his nuptial bed : tnd therefore, load's, since he affects her most, t most of all these reasons bindeth us, n our opinions she should be preferr’d. f or what is wedlock forced, but a hell, In age of discord and continual strife P |Vhereas the contrary bringeth forth bliss, ynd is a pattern of celestial peace. Vhom should we match with Henry, being a king, Jut Margaret, that is daughter to a king ? ler peerless feature, joined with her birth, Approves her fit for none, but for a king: ler valiant courage and undaunted spirit More than in women commonly is seen), yill answer our hope in issue of a king ; 'or Henry, son unto a conqueror, s likely to beget more conquerors, F with a lady of so high resolve, s is fair Margaret, he be link’d in love, hen yield, my lords ; and here conclude with me, [’hat Margaret shall be queen, and none but she. K. Hen. Whether it be through force of your report, Jy noble lord of Suffolk; or for that ly tender youth was never yet attaint ^ith any passion of inflaming love, cannot tell; but this I am assur’d, !feel such sharp dissention in my breast, Ucb fierce alarums both of hope and fear, 88 KING HENRY VI. act y As I am sick with working of my thoughts. Take, therefore, shipping ; post, my lord, to France ; Agree to any covenants; and procure That lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come To cross the seas to England, and be crown’d King Henry’s faithful and anointed queen : For your expenses, and sufficient charge, Among the people gather up a tenth. Be gone, I say; for, till you do return, I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.— And you, good uncle, banish all offence : If you do censure me by what you were. Not what you are, I know it will excuse This sudden execution of my will. And so conduct’me, where, from company, I may revolve and ruminate my grief. [ exit . Glo. Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. [exeunt Gloster and Exeter. Suff. Thus Suffolk hath prevail’d : and thus he goes, As did the youthful Paris once to Greece; With hope to find the like event in love, But prosper better than the Trojan did. Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the king; But I will rule both her, the king, and realm, [exit. THE END, Maurice, Fencburch Street.