1 KING HENRY VI


	DRAMATIS PERSONAE


KING
HENRY THE SIXTH	(KING HENRY VI:)

DUKE OF GLOUCESTER	uncle to the King, and Protector. (GLOUCESTER:)

DUKE OF BEDFORD	uncle to the King, and Regent of France. (BEDFORD:)

THOMAS BEAUFORT	Duke of Exeter, great-uncle to the King. (EXETER:)

HENRY BEAUFORT	great-uncle to the King, Bishop of Winchester, and
	afterwards Cardinal. (BISHOP OF WINCHESTER:)

JOHN BEAUFORT	Earl, afterwards Duke, of Somerset. (SOMERSET:)

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	son of Richard late Earl of Cambridge, (RICHARD
	PLANTAGENET:)  afterwards Duke of York.
	(YORK:)

EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)

EARL OF SALISBURY	(SALISBURY:)

EARL OF SUFFOLK	(SUFFOLK:)

LORD TALBOT	afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury. (TALBOT:)

JOHN TALBOT	Lord Talbot's son.

EDMUND MORTIMER	Earl of March. (MORTIMER:)

SIR JOHN FASTOLFE	(FASTOLFE:)

SIR WILLIAM LUCY	(LUCY:)

SIR
WILLIAM GLANSDALE	(GLANDSDALE:)

SIR
THOMAS GARGRAVE	(GARGRAVE:)

Mayor of London	(Mayor:)

WOODVILE	Lieutenant of the Tower.

VERNON	of the White-Rose or York faction.

BASSET	of the Red-Rose or Lancaster faction.

	A Lawyer. (Lawyer:)

	Mortimer's Keepers. (First Gaoler:)

CHARLES	Dauphin, and afterwards King, of France.

REIGNIER	Duke of Anjou, and titular King of Naples.

DUKE OF BURGUNDY	(BURGUNDY:)

DUKE OF ALENCON	(ALENCON:)

BASTARD OF ORLEANS:

	Governor of Paris.

	Master-Gunner of Orleans, (Master-Gunner:)
	and his Son. (Boy:)

	General of the French forces in Bourdeaux. (General:)

	A French Sergeant. (Sargeant:)

	A Porter.

	An old Shepherd, father to Joan la Pucelle. (Shepherd:)

MARGARET	daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to King Henry.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE:

JOAN LA PUCELLE	commonly called Joan of Arc.

	Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers,
	Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants.
	(First Warder:)
	(Second Warder:)
	(Captain:)
	(Officer:)
	(Soldier:)
	(First Soldier:)
	(Watch:)
	(Scout:)
	(First Sentinel:)
	(Servant:)
	(First Serving-Man:)
	(Second Serving-Man:)
	(Third Serving-Man:)

	Fiends appearing to La Pucelle.


SCENE	Partly in England, and partly in France.




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE I	Westminster Abbey.


	[Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the
	Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of
	France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of
	WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, &c]

BEDFORD	Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
	Comets, importing change of times and states,
	Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
	And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
	That have consented unto Henry's death!
	King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
	England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

GLOUCESTER	England ne'er had a king until his time.
	Virtue he had, deserving to command:
	His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:
	His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
	His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
	More dazzled and drove back his enemies
	Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
	What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
	He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

EXETER	We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?
	Henry is dead and never shall revive:
	Upon a wooden coffin we attend,
	And death's dishonourable victory
	We with our stately presence glorify,
	Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
	What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
	That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
	Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
	Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him
	By magic verses have contrived his end?

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	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.

GLOUCESTER	The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,
	His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
	None do you like but an effeminate prince,
	Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector
	And lookest to command the prince and realm.
	Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
	More than God or religious churchmen may.

GLOUCESTER	Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh,
	And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st
	Except it be to pray against thy foes.

BEDFORD	Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:
	Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
	Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms:
	Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead.
	Posterity, await for wretched years,
	When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,
	Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
	And none but women left to wail the dead.
	Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
	Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
	Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
	A far more glorious star thy soul will make
	Than Julius Caesar or bright--

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	My honourable lords, health to you all!
	Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
	Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture:
	Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
	Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

BEDFORD	What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
	Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
	Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.

GLOUCESTER	Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up?
	If Henry were recall'd to life again,
	These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

EXETER	How were they lost? what treachery was used?

Messenger	No treachery; but want of men and money.
	Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
	That here you maintain several factions,
	And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
	You are disputing of your generals:
	One would have lingering wars with little cost;
	Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
	A third thinks, without expense at all,
	By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
	Awake, awake, English nobility!
	Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot:
	Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
	Of England's coat one half is cut away.

EXETER	Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
	These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.

BEDFORD	Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
	Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
	Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
	Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
	To weep their intermissive miseries.

	[Enter to them another Messenger]

Messenger	Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.
	France is revolted from the English quite,
	Except some petty towns of no import:
	The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims;
	The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
	Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
	The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.

EXETER	The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
	O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

GLOUCESTER	We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
	Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.

BEDFORD	Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
	An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
	Wherewith already France is overrun.

	[Enter another Messenger]

Messenger	My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
	Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
	I must inform you of a dismal fight
	Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?

Messenger	O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown:
	The circumstance I'll tell you more at large.
	The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,
	Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
	Having full scarce six thousand in his troop.
	By three and twenty thousand of the French
	Was round encompassed and set upon.
	No leisure had he to enrank his men;
	He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
	Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges
	They pitched in the ground confusedly,
	To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
	More than three hours the fight continued;
	Where valiant Talbot above human thought
	Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:
	Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
	Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew:
	The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms;
	All the whole army stood agazed 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, placed behind
	With purpose to relieve and follow them,
	Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
	Hence grew the general wreck and massacre;
	Enclosed were they with their enemies:
	A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
	Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
	Whom all France with their chief assembled strength
	Durst not presume to look once in the face.

BEDFORD	Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself,
	For living idly here in pomp and ease,
	Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
	Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd.

Messenger	O no, he lives; but is took prisoner,
	And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford:
	Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise.

BEDFORD	His ransom there is none but I shall pay:
	I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne:
	His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
	Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
	Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
	Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
	To keep our great Saint George's feast withal:
	Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
	Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

Messenger	So you had need; for Orleans is besieged;
	The English army is grown weak and faint:
	The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply,
	And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,
	Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.

EXETER	Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,
	Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
	Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.

BEDFORD	I do remember it; and here take my leave,
	To go about my preparation.

	[Exit]

GLOUCESTER	I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can,
	To view the artillery and munition;
	And then I will proclaim young Henry king.

	[Exit]

EXETER	To Eltham will I, where the young king is,
	Being ordain'd his special governor,
	And for his safety there I'll best devise.

	[Exit]

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Each hath his place and function to attend:
	I am left out; for me nothing remains.
	But long I will not be Jack out of office:
	The king from Eltham I intend to steal
	And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE II	France. Before Orleans.


	[Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and
	REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers]

CHARLES	Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens
	So in the earth, to this day is not known:
	Late did he shine upon the English side;
	Now we are victors; upon us he smiles.
	What towns of any moment but we have?
	At pleasure here we lie near Orleans;
	Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts,
	Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.

ALENCON	They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves:
	Either they must be dieted like mules
	And have their provender tied to their mouths
	Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.

REIGNIER	Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here?
	Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear:
	Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury;
	And he may well in fretting spend his gall,
	Nor men nor money hath he to make war.

CHARLES	Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them.
	Now for the honour of the forlorn French!
	Him I forgive my death that killeth me
	When he sees me go back one foot or fly.

	[Exeunt]

	[Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English
	with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER]

CHARLES	Who ever saw the like? what men have I!
	Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled,
	But that they left me 'midst my enemies.

REIGNIER	Salisbury is a desperate homicide;
	He fighteth as one weary of his life.
	The other lords, like lions wanting food,
	Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.

ALENCON	Froissart, a countryman of ours, records,
	England all Olivers and Rowlands bred,
	During the time Edward the Third did reign.
	More truly now may this be verified;
	For none but Samsons and Goliases
	It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
	Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose
	They had such courage and audacity?

CHARLES	Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves,
	And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:
	Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
	The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege.

REIGNIER	I think, by some odd gimmors or device
	Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on;
	Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do.
	By my consent, we'll even let them alone.

ALENCON	Be it so.

	[Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS]

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.

CHARLES	Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:
	Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
	Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand:
	A holy maid hither with me I bring,
	Which by a vision sent to her from heaven
	Ordained is to raise this tedious siege
	And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
	The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
	Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome:
	What's past and what's to come she can descry.
	Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
	For they are certain and unfallible.

CHARLES	Go, call her in.

	[Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS]

	But first, to try her skill,
	Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place:
	Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern:
	By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.

	[Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE]

REIGNIER	Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
	Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;
	I know thee well, though never seen before.
	Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me:
	In private will I talk with thee apart.
	Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.

REIGNIER	She takes upon her bravely at first dash.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
	My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
	Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased
	To shine on my contemptible estate:
	Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs,
	And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,
	God's mother deigned to appear to me
	And in a vision full of majesty
	Will'd me to leave my base vocation
	And free my country from calamity:
	Her aid she promised and assured success:
	In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
	And, whereas I was black and swart before,
	With those clear rays which she infused on me
	That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
	Ask me what question thou canst possible,
	And I will answer unpremeditated:
	My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
	And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
	Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
	If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.

CHARLES	Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms:
	Only this proof I'll of thy valour make,
	In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
	And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
	Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
	Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side;
	The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's
	churchyard,
	Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.

CHARLES	Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.

	[Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes]

CHARLES	Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon
	And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.

CHARLES	Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:
	Impatiently I burn with thy desire;
	My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
	Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
	Let me thy servant and not sovereign be:
	'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	I must not yield to any rites of love,
	For my profession's sacred from above:
	When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
	Then will I think upon a recompense.

CHARLES	Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.

REIGNIER	My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.

ALENCON	Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;
	Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.

REIGNIER	Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?

ALENCON	He may mean more than we poor men do know:
	These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.

REIGNIER	My lord, where are you? what devise you on?
	Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
	Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.

CHARLES	What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
	This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
	Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
	Since I have entered into these wars.
	Glory is like a circle in the water,
	Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
	Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
	With Henry's death the English circle ends;
	Dispersed are the glories it included.
	Now am I like that proud insulting ship
	Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.

CHARLES	Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?
	Thou with an eagle art inspired then.
	Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
	Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee.
	Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,
	How may I reverently worship thee enough?

ALENCON	Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.

REIGNIER	Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;
	Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized.

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

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE III	London. Before the Tower.


	[Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats]

GLOUCESTER	I am come to survey the Tower this day:
	Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance.
	Where be these warders, that they wait not here?
	Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls.

First Warder	[Within]  Who's there that knocks so imperiously?

First Serving-Man	It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.

Second Warder	[Within]  Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in.

First Serving-Man	Villains, answer you so the lord protector?

First Warder	[Within]  The Lord protect him! so we answer him:
	We do no otherwise than we are will'd.

GLOUCESTER	Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine?
	There's none protector of the realm but I.
	Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize.
	Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms?

	[Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and
	WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within]

WOODVILE	What noise is this? what traitors have we here?

GLOUCESTER	Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?
	Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter.

WOODVILE	Have patience, noble duke; I may not open;
	The Cardinal of Winchester forbids:
	From him I have express commandment
	That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.

GLOUCESTER	Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me?
	Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate,
	Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook?
	Thou art no friend to God or to the king:
	Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly.

Serving-Men	Open the gates unto the lord protector,
	Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.

	[Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP
	OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats]

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this?

GLOUCESTER	Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out?

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	I do, thou most usurping proditor,
	And not protector, of the king or realm.

GLOUCESTER	Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
	Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord;
	Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin:
	I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
	If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot:
	This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain,
	To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.

GLOUCESTER	I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back:
	Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth
	I'll use to carry thee out of this place.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face.

GLOUCESTER	What! am I dared and bearded to my face?
	Draw, men, for all this privileged place;
	Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard,
	I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly:
	Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat:
	In spite of pope or dignities of church,
	Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope.

GLOUCESTER	Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope!
	Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay?
	Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.
	Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite!

	[Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly-
	burly the Mayor of London and his Officers]

Mayor	Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates,
	Thus contumeliously should break the peace!

GLOUCESTER	Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs:
	Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king,
	Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens,
	One that still motions war and never peace,
	O'ercharging your free purses with large fines,
	That seeks to overthrow religion,
	Because he is protector of the realm,
	And would have armour here out of the Tower,
	To crown himself king and suppress the prince.

GLOUCESTER	I will not answer thee with words, but blows.

	[Here they skirmish again]

Mayor	Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife
	But to make open proclamation:
	Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst,
	Cry.

Officer	All manner of men assembled here in arms this day
	against God's peace and the king's, we charge and
	command you, in his highness' name, to repair to
	your several dwelling-places; and not to wear,
	handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger,
	henceforward, upon pain of death.

GLOUCESTER	Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law:
	But we shall meet, and break our minds at large.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure:
	Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.

Mayor	I'll call for clubs, if you will not away.
	This cardinal's more haughty than the devil.

GLOUCESTER	Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head;
	For I intend to have it ere long.

	[Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER with their Serving-men]

Mayor	See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart.
	Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear!
	I myself fight not once in forty year.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE IV	Orleans.


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

Master-Gunner	Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged,
	And how the English have the suburbs won.

Boy	Father, I know; and oft have shot at them,
	Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim.

Master-Gunner	But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me:
	Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
	Something I must do to procure me grace.
	The prince's espials have informed me
	How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd,
	Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars
	In yonder tower, to overpeer the city,
	And thence discover how with most advantage
	They may vex us with shot, or with assault.
	To intercept this inconvenience,
	A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed;
	And even these three days have I watch'd,
	If I could see them.
	Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer.
	If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word;
	And thou shalt find me at the governor's.

	[Exit]

Boy	Father, I warrant you; take you no care;
	I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.

	[Exit]

	[Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT,
	GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others]

SALISBURY	Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd!
	How wert thou handled being prisoner?
	Or by what means got'st thou to be released?
	Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.

TALBOT	The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner
	Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles;
	For him was I exchanged and ransomed.
	But with a baser man of arms by far
	Once in contempt they would have barter'd me:
	Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death,
	Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd.
	In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired.
	But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart,
	Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
	If I now had him brought into my power.

SALISBURY	Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd.

TALBOT	With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts.
	In open market-place produced they me,
	To be a public spectacle to all:
	Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
	The scarecrow that affrights our children so.
	Then broke I from the officers that led me,
	And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground,
	To hurl at the beholders of my shame:
	My grisly countenance made others fly;
	None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
	In iron walls they deem'd me not secure;
	So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread,
	That they supposed I could rend bars of steel,
	And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:
	Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
	That walked about me every minute-while;
	And if I did but stir out of my bed,
	Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.

	[Enter the Boy with a linstock]

SALISBURY	I grieve to hear what torments you endured,
	But we will be revenged sufficiently
	Now it is supper-time in Orleans:
	Here, through this grate, I count each one
	and view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
	Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee.
	Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale,
	Let me have your express opinions
	Where is best place to make our battery next.

GARGRAVE	I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.

GLANSDALE	And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge.

TALBOT	For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
	Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.

	[Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall]

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

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

TALBOT	What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
	Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak:
	How farest thou, mirror of all martial men?
	One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!
	Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
	That hath contrived this woful tragedy!
	In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
	Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars;
	Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
	His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.
	Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail,
	One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace:
	The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
	Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
	If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!
	Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it.
	Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
	Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
	Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
	Thou shalt not die whiles--
	He beckons with his hand and smiles on me.
	As who should say 'When I am dead and gone,
	Remember to avenge me on the French.'
	Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,
	Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn:
	Wretched shall France be only in my name.

	[Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens]

	What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens?
	Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head:
	The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,
	A holy prophetess new risen up,
	Is come with a great power to raise the siege.

	[Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans]

TALBOT	Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan!
	It irks his heart he cannot be revenged.
	Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you:
	Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish,
	Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels,
	And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
	Convey me Salisbury into his tent,
	And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.

	[Alarum. Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE V	The same.


	[Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the
	DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA
	PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit
	after them then re-enter TALBOT]

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

	[Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE]

	Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
	Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
	Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
	And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.

	[Here they fight]

TALBOT	Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
	My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage
	And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder.
	But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.

	[They fight again]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
	I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

	[A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers]

	O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
	Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men;
	Help Salisbury to make his testament:
	This day is ours, as many more shall be.

	[Exit]

TALBOT	My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
	I know not where I am, nor what I do;
	A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
	Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists:
	So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench
	Are from their hives and houses driven away.
	They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs;
	Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.

	[A short alarum]

	Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
	Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
	Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
	Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf,
	Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
	As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.

	[Alarum. Here another skirmish]

	It will not be: retire into your trenches:
	You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
	For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
	Pucelle is 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.

	[Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT I



SCENE VI	The same.


	[Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,
	REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Advance our waving colours on the walls;
	Rescued is Orleans from the English
	Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.

CHARLES	Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,
	How shall I honour thee for this success?
	Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens
	That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next.
	France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
	Recover'd is the town of Orleans:
	More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.

REIGNIER	Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?
	Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires
	And feast and banquet in the open streets,
	To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.

ALENCON	All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
	When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.

CHARLES	'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
	For which I will divide my crown with her,
	And all the priests and friars in my realm
	Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
	A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear
	Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was:
	In memory of her when she is dead,
	Her ashes, in an urn more precious
	Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius,
	Transported shall be at high festivals
	Before the kings and queens of France.
	No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
	But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
	Come in, and let us banquet royally,
	After this golden day of victory.

	[Flourish. Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT II



SCENE I	Before Orleans.


	[Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels]

Sergeant	Sirs, take your places and be vigilant:
	If any noise or soldier you perceive
	Near to the walls, by some apparent sign
	Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

First Sentinel	Sergeant, you shall.

	[Exit Sergeant]

		Thus are poor servitors,
	When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
	Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold.

	[Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with
	scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march]

TALBOT	Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
	By whose approach the regions of Artois,
	Wallon and Picardy are friends to us,
	This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
	Having all day caroused and banqueted:
	Embrace we then this opportunity
	As fitting best to quittance their deceit
	Contrived by art and baleful sorcery.

BEDFORD	Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame,
	Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
	To join with witches and the help of hell!

BURGUNDY	Traitors have never other company.
	But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure?

TALBOT	A maid, they say.

BEDFORD	                  A maid! and be so martial!

BURGUNDY	Pray God she prove not masculine ere long,
	If underneath the standard of the French
	She carry armour as she hath begun.

TALBOT	Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
	God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
	Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.

BEDFORD	Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.

TALBOT	Not all together: better far, I guess,
	That we do make our entrance several ways;
	That, if it chance the one of us do fail,
	The other yet may rise against their force.

BEDFORD	Agreed: I'll to yond corner.

BURGUNDY	And I to this.

TALBOT	And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave.
	Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
	Of English Henry, shall this night appear
	How much in duty I am bound to both.

Sentinels	Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault!

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

	[The French leap over the walls in their shirts.
	Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
	ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready]

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

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well.

REIGNIER	'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
	Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors.

ALENCON	Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms,
	Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
	More venturous or desperate than this.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.

REIGNIER	If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him.

ALENCON	Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard.

	[Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE]

CHARLES	Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
	Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
	Make us partakers of a little gain,
	That now our loss might be ten times so much?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend!
	At all times will you have my power alike?
	Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,
	Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
	Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
	This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.

CHARLES	Duke of Alencon, this was your default,
	That, being captain of the watch to-night,
	Did look no better to that weighty charge.

ALENCON	Had all your quarters been as safely kept
	As that whereof I had the government,
	We had not been thus shamefully surprised.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Mine was secure.

REIGNIER	                  And so was mine, my lord.

CHARLES	And, for myself, most part of all this night,
	Within her quarter and mine own precinct
	I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
	About relieving of the sentinels:
	Then how or which way should they first break in?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Question, my lords, no further of the case,
	How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place
	But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
	And now there rests no other shift but this;
	To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed,
	And lay new platforms to endamage them.

	[Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A
	Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
	clothes behind]

Soldier	I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
	The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
	For I have loaden me with many spoils,
	Using no other weapon but his name.

	[Exit]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT II



SCENE II	Orleans. Within the town.


	[Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others]

BEDFORD	The day begins to break, and night is fled,
	Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
	Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

	[Retreat sounded]

TALBOT	Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
	And here advance it in the market-place,
	The middle centre of this cursed town.
	Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
	For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
	There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight.
	And that hereafter ages may behold
	What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
	Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
	A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd:
	Upon the which, that every one may read,
	Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans,
	The treacherous manner of his mournful death
	And what a terror he had been to France.
	But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
	I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
	His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
	Nor any of his false confederates.

BEDFORD	'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
	Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
	They did amongst the troops of armed men
	Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

BURGUNDY	Myself, as far as I could well discern
	For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,
	Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull,
	When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
	Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves
	That could not live asunder day or night.
	After that things are set in order here,
	We'll follow them with all the power we have.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	All hail, my lords! which of this princely train
	Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
	So much applauded through the realm of France?

TALBOT	Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?

Messenger	The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
	With modesty admiring thy renown,
	By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
	To visit her poor castle where she lies,
	That she may boast she hath beheld the man
	Whose glory fills the world with loud report.

BURGUNDY	Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
	Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
	When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
	You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.

TALBOT	Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men
	Could not prevail with all their oratory,
	Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled:
	And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
	And in submission will attend on her.
	Will not your honours bear me company?

BEDFORD	No, truly; it is more than manners will:
	And I have heard it said, unbidden guests
	Are often welcomest when they are gone.

TALBOT	Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
	I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
	Come hither, captain.

	[Whispers]

		You perceive my mind?

Captain	I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT II



SCENE III	Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle.


	[Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter]

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	Porter, remember what I gave in charge;
	And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.

Porter	Madam, I will.

	[Exit]

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
	I shall as famous be by this exploit
	As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.
	Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight,
	And his achievements of no less account:
	Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
	To give their censure of these rare reports.

	[Enter Messenger and TALBOT]

Messenger	Madam,
	According as your ladyship desired,
	By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	And he is welcome. What! is this the man?

Messenger	Madam, it is.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	                  Is this the scourge of France?
	Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad
	That with his name the mothers still their babes?
	I see report is fabulous and false:
	I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
	A second Hector, for his grim aspect,
	And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
	Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf!
	It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp
	Should strike such terror to his enemies.

TALBOT	Madam, I have been bold to trouble you;
	But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
	I'll sort some other time to visit you.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes.

Messenger	Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves
	To know the cause of your abrupt departure.

TALBOT	Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,
	I go to certify her Talbot's here.

	[Re-enter Porter with keys]

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.

TALBOT	Prisoner! to whom?

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	To me, blood-thirsty lord;
	And for that cause I trained thee to my house.
	Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
	For in my gallery thy picture hangs:
	But now the substance shall endure the like,
	And I will chain these legs and arms of thine,
	That hast by tyranny these many years
	Wasted our country, slain our citizens
	And sent our sons and husbands captivate.

TALBOT	Ha, ha, ha!

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall turn to moan.

TALBOT	I laugh to see your ladyship so fond
	To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow
	Whereon to practise your severity.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	Why, art not thou the man?

TALBOT	I am indeed.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	Then have I substance too.

TALBOT	No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
	You are deceived, my substance is not here;
	For what you see is but the smallest part
	And least proportion of humanity:
	I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
	It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,
	Your roof were not sufficient to contain't.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	This is a riddling merchant for the nonce;
	He will be here, and yet he is not here:
	How can these contrarieties agree?

TALBOT	That will I show you presently.

	[Winds his horn. Drums strike up: a peal of
	ordnance. Enter soldiers]

	How say you, madam? are you now persuaded
	That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
	These are his substance, sinews, arms and strength,
	With which he yoketh your rebellious necks,
	Razeth your cities and subverts your towns
	And in a moment makes them desolate.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse:
	I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited
	And more than may be gather'd by thy shape.
	Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath;
	For I am sorry that with reverence
	I did not entertain thee as thou art.

TALBOT	Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue
	The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
	The outward composition of his body.
	What you have done hath not offended me;
	Nor other satisfaction do I crave,
	But only, with your patience, that we may
	Taste of your wine and see what cates you have;
	For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.

COUNTESS
OF AUVERGNE	With all my heart, and think me honoured
	To feast so great a warrior in my house.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT II


SCENE IV	London. The Temple-garden.


	[Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK;
	RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another Lawyer]

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
	Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

SUFFOLK	Within the Temple-hall we were too loud;
	The garden here is more convenient.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth;
	Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error?

SUFFOLK	Faith, I have been a truant in the law,
	And never yet could frame my will to it;
	And therefore frame the law unto my will.

SOMERSET	Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us.

WARWICK	Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;
	Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
	Between two blades, which bears the better temper:
	Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
	Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye;
	I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement;
	But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
	Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
	The truth appears so naked on my side
	That any purblind eye may find it out.

SOMERSET	And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
	So clear, so shining and so evident
	That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
	In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
	Let him that is a true-born gentleman
	And stands upon the honour of his birth,
	If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
	From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.

SOMERSET	Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
	But dare maintain the party of the truth,
	Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.

WARWICK	I love no colours, and without all colour
	Of base insinuating flattery
	I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.

SUFFOLK	I pluck this red rose with young Somerset
	And say withal I think he held the right.

VERNON	Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more,
	Till you conclude that he upon whose side
	The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree
	Shall yield the other in the right opinion.

SOMERSET	Good Master Vernon, it is well objected:
	If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	And I.

VERNON	Then for the truth and plainness of the case.
	I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
	Giving my verdict on the white rose side.

SOMERSET	Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
	Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red
	And fall on my side so, against your will.

VERNON	If I my lord, for my opinion bleed,
	Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt
	And keep me on the side where still I am.

SOMERSET	Well, well, come on: who else?

Lawyer	Unless my study and my books be false,
	The argument you held was wrong in you:

	[To SOMERSET]

	In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Now, Somerset, where is your argument?

SOMERSET	Here in my scabbard, meditating that
	Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses;
	For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
	The truth on our side.

SOMERSET	No, Plantagenet,
	'Tis not for fear but anger that thy cheeks
	Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses,
	And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?

SOMERSET	Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth;
	Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.

SOMERSET	Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
	That shall maintain what I have said is true,
	Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
	I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.

SUFFOLK	Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee.

SUFFOLK	I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.

SOMERSET	Away, away, good William de la Pole!
	We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.

WARWICK	Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset;
	His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence,
	Third son to the third Edward King of England:
	Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	He bears him on the place's privilege,
	Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.

SOMERSET	By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
	On any plot of ground in Christendom.
	Was not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge,
	For treason executed in our late king's days?
	And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted,
	Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
	His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
	And, till thou be restored, thou art a yeoman.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	My father was attached, not attainted,
	Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
	And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,
	Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
	For your partaker Pole and you yourself,
	I'll note you in my book of memory,
	To scourge you for this apprehension:
	Look to it well and say you are well warn'd.

SOMERSET	Ah, 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.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
	As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
	Will I for ever and my faction wear,
	Until it wither with me to my grave
	Or flourish to the height of my degree.

SUFFOLK	Go forward and be choked with thy ambition!
	And so farewell until I meet thee next.

	[Exit]

SOMERSET	Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard.

	[Exit]

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	How I am braved and must perforce endure it!

WARWICK	This blot that they object against your house
	Shall be wiped out in the next parliament
	Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester;
	And if thou be not then created York,
	I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
	Meantime, in signal of my love to thee,
	Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
	Will I upon thy party wear this rose:
	And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,
	Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,
	Shall send between the red rose and the white
	A thousand souls to death and deadly night.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
	That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.

VERNON	In your behalf still will I wear the same.

Lawyer	And so will I.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Thanks, gentle sir.
	Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say
	This quarrel will drink blood another day.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT II


SCENE V	The Tower of London.


	[Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair, and Gaolers]

MORTIMER	Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
	Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
	Even like a man new haled from the rack,
	So fare my limbs with long imprisonment.
	And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
	Nestor-like aged in an age of care,
	Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
	These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
	Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;
	Weak shoulders, overborne with burthening grief,
	And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine
	That droops his sapless branches to the ground;
	Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb,
	Unable to support this lump of clay,
	Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
	As witting I no other comfort have.
	But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?

First Gaoler	Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come:
	We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber;
	And answer was return'd that he will come.

MORTIMER	Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied.
	Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
	Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign,
	Before whose glory I was great in arms,
	This loathsome sequestration have I had:
	And even since then hath Richard been obscured,
	Deprived of honour and inheritance.
	But now the arbitrator of despairs,
	Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
	With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence:
	I would his troubles likewise were expired,
	That so he might recover what was lost.

	[Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

First Gaoler	My lord, your loving nephew now is come.

MORTIMER	Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used,
	Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes.

MORTIMER	Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck,
	And in his bosom spend my latter gasp:
	O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
	That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.
	And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,
	Why didst thou say, of late thou wert despised?

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
	And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.
	This day, in argument upon a case,
	Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me;
	Among which terms he used his lavish tongue
	And did upbraid me with my father's death:
	Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
	Else with the like I had requited him.
	Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake,
	In honour of a true Plantagenet
	And for alliance sake, declare the cause
	My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.

MORTIMER	That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me
	And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth
	Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
	Was cursed instrument of his decease.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Discover more at large what cause that was,
	For I am ignorant and cannot guess.

MORTIMER	I will, if that my fading breath permit
	And death approach not ere my tale be done.
	Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king,
	Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son,
	The first-begotten and the lawful heir,
	Of Edward king, the third of that descent:
	During whose reign the Percies of the north,
	Finding his usurpation most unjust,
	Endeavor'd my advancement to the throne:
	The reason moved these warlike lords to this
	Was, for that--young King Richard thus removed,
	Leaving no heir begotten of his body--
	I was the next by birth and parentage;
	For by my mother I derived am
	From Lionel Duke of Clarence, 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 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 derived
	From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
	Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
	Again in pity of my hard distress
	Levied an army, weening to redeem
	And have install'd me in the diadem:
	But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl
	And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
	In whom the tide rested, were suppress'd.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Of which, my lord, your honour is the last.

MORTIMER	True; and thou seest that I no issue have
	And that my fainting words do warrant death;
	Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather:
	But yet be wary in thy studious care.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Thy grave admonishments prevail with me:
	But yet, methinks, my father's execution
	Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.

MORTIMER	With silence, nephew, be thou politic:
	Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,
	And like a mountain, not to be removed.
	But now thy uncle is removing hence:
	As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd
	With long continuance in a settled place.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	O, uncle, would some part of my young years
	Might but redeem the passage of your age!

MORTIMER	Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth
	Which giveth many wounds when one will kill.
	Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good;
	Only give order for my funeral:
	And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes
	And prosperous be thy life in peace and war!

	[Dies]

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul!
	In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage
	And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.
	Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
	And what I do imagine let that rest.
	Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself
	Will see his burial better than his life.

	[Exeunt Gaolers, bearing out the body of MORTIMER]

	Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
	Choked with ambition of the meaner sort:
	And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
	Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house:
	I doubt not but with honour to redress;
	And therefore haste I to the parliament,
	Either to be restored to my blood,
	Or make my ill the advantage of my good.

	[Exit]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT III



SCENE I	London. The Parliament-house.


	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, EXETER, GLOUCESTER,
	WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others.
	GLOUCESTER offers to put up a bill; BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it]

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Comest thou with deep premeditated lines,
	With written pamphlets studiously devised,
	Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse,
	Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge,
	Do it without invention, suddenly;
	As I with sudden and extemporal speech
	Purpose to answer what thou canst object.

GLOUCESTER	Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience,
	Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me.
	Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
	The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
	That therefore I have forged, or am not able
	Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen:
	No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
	Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks,
	As very infants prattle of thy pride.
	Thou art a most pernicious usurer,
	Forward by nature, enemy to peace;
	Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
	A man of thy profession and degree;
	And for thy treachery, what's more manifest?
	In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
	As well at London bridge as at the Tower.
	Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
	The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
	From envious malice of thy swelling heart.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe
	To give me hearing what I shall reply.
	If I were covetous, ambitious or perverse,
	As he will have me, how am I so poor?
	Or how haps it I seek not to advance
	Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
	And for dissension, who preferreth peace
	More than I do?--except I be provoked.
	No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
	It is not that that hath incensed the duke:
	It is, because no one should sway but he;
	No one but he should be about the king;
	And that engenders thunder in his breast
	And makes him roar these accusations forth.
	But he shall know I am as good--

GLOUCESTER	As good!
	Thou bastard of my grandfather!

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,
	But one imperious in another's throne?

GLOUCESTER	Am I not protector, saucy priest?

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	And am not I a prelate of the church?

GLOUCESTER	Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps
	And useth it to patronage his theft.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Unreverent Gloster!

GLOUCESTER	Thou art reverent
	Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Rome shall remedy this.

WARWICK	Roam thither, then.

SOMERSET	My lord, it were your duty to forbear.

WARWICK	Ay, see the bishop be not overborne.

SOMERSET	Methinks my lord should be religious
	And know the office that belongs to such.

WARWICK	Methinks his lordship should be humbler;
	it fitteth not a prelate so to plead.

SOMERSET	Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near.

WARWICK	State holy or unhallow'd, what of that?
	Is not his grace protector to the king?

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	[Aside]  Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,
	Lest it be said 'Speak, sirrah, when you should;
	Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?'
	Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

KING HENRY VI	Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,
	The special watchmen of our English weal,
	I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
	To join your hearts in love and amity.
	O, what a scandal is it to our crown,
	That two such noble peers as ye should jar!
	Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
	Civil dissension is a viperous worm
	That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.

	[A noise within, 'Down with the tawny-coats!']

	What tumult's this?

WARWICK	An uproar, I dare warrant,
	Begun through malice of the bishop's men.

	[A noise again, 'Stones! stones!' Enter Mayor]

Mayor	O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
	Pity the city of London, pity us!
	The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men,
	Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
	Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones
	And banding themselves in contrary parts
	Do pelt so fast at one another's pate
	That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:
	Our windows are broke down in every street
	And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.

	[Enter Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates]

KING HENRY VI	We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
	To hold your slaughtering hands and keep the peace.
	Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.

First Serving-man	Nay, if we be forbidden stones,
	We'll fall to it with our teeth.

Second Serving-man	Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.

	[Skirmish again]

GLOUCESTER	You of my household, leave this peevish broil
	And set this unaccustom'd fight aside.

Third Serving-man	My lord, we know your grace to be a man
	Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,
	Inferior to none but to his majesty:
	And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
	So kind a father of the commonweal,
	To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,
	We and our wives and children all will fight
	And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes.

First Serving-man	Ay, and the very parings of our nails
	Shall pitch a field when we are dead.

	[Begin again]

GLOUCESTER	Stay, stay, I say!
	And if you love me, as you say you do,
	Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.

KING HENRY VI	O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!
	Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
	My sighs and tears and will not once relent?
	Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
	Or who should study to prefer a peace.
	If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

WARWICK	Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester;
	Except you mean with obstinate repulse
	To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.
	You see what mischief and what murder too
	Hath been enacted through your enmity;
	Then be at peace except ye thirst for blood.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	He shall submit, or I will never yield.

GLOUCESTER	Compassion on the king commands me stoop;
	Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest
	Should ever get that privilege of me.

WARWICK	Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke
	Hath banish'd moody discontented fury,
	As by his smoothed brows it doth appear:
	Why look you still so stern and tragical?

GLOUCESTER	Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.

KING HENRY VI	Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach
	That malice was a great and grievous sin;
	And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
	But prove a chief offender in the same?

WARWICK	Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird.
	For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent!
	What, shall a child instruct you what to do?

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee;
	Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.

GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.--
	See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
	This token serveth for a flag of truce
	Betwixt ourselves and all our followers:
	So help me God, as I dissemble not!

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	[Aside]  So help me God, as I intend it not!

KING HENRY VI	O, loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester,
	How joyful am I made by this contract!
	Away, my masters! trouble us no more;
	But join in friendship, as your lords have done.

First Serving-man	Content: I'll to the surgeon's.

Second Serving-man	And so will I.

Third Serving-man	And I will see what physic the tavern affords.

	[Exeunt Serving-men, Mayor, &c]

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

GLOUCESTER	Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: or sweet prince,
	And if your grace mark every circumstance,
	You have great reason to do Richard right;
	Especially for those occasions
	At Eltham Place I told your majesty.

KING HENRY VI	And those occasions, uncle, were of force:
	Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is
	That Richard be restored to his blood.

WARWICK	Let Richard be restored to his blood;
	So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.

KING HENRY VI	If Richard will be true, not that alone
	But all the whole inheritance I give
	That doth belong unto the house of York,
	From whence you spring by lineal descent.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	Thy humble servant vows obedience
	And humble service till the point of death.

KING HENRY VI	Stoop then and set your knee against my foot;
	And, in reguerdon of that duty done,
	I gird thee with the valiant sword of York:
	Rise Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
	And rise created princely Duke of York.

RICHARD
PLANTAGENET	And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall!
	And as my duty springs, so perish they
	That grudge one thought against your majesty!

ALL	Welcome, high prince, the mighty Duke of York!

SOMERSET	[Aside]  Perish, base prince, ignoble Duke of York!

GLOUCESTER	Now will it best avail your majesty
	To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France:
	The presence of a king engenders love
	Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends,
	As it disanimates his enemies.

KING HENRY VI	When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes;
	For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.

GLOUCESTER	Your ships already are in readiness.

	[Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but EXETER]

EXETER	Ay, we may march in England or in France,
	Not seeing what is likely to ensue.
	This late dissension grown betwixt the peers
	Burns under feigned ashes of forged love
	And will at last break out into a flame:
	As fester'd members rot but by degree,
	Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away,
	So will this base and envious discord breed.
	And now I fear that fatal prophecy
	Which in the time of Henry named the Fifth
	Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
	That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
	And Henry born at Windsor lose all:
	Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish
	His days may finish ere that hapless time.

	[Exit]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT III



SCENE II	France. Before Rouen.


	[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE disguised, with four Soldiers
	with sacks upon their backs]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
	Through which our policy must make a breach:
	Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
	Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
	That come to gather money for their corn.
	If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
	And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
	I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
	That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.

First Soldier	Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
	And we be lords and rulers over Rouen;
	Therefore we'll knock.

	[Knocks]

Watch	[Within]  Qui est la?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Paysans, pauvres gens de France;
	Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.

Watch	Enter, go in; the market bell is rung.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.

	[Exeunt]

	[Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON,
	REIGNIER, and forces]

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

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

REIGNIER	By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
	Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,
	No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd.

	[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE on the top, thrusting out a
	torch burning]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
	That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
	But burning fatal to the Talbotites!

	[Exit]

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend;
	The burning torch in yonder turret stands.

CHARLES	Now shine it like a comet of revenge,
	A prophet to the fall of all our foes!

REIGNIER	Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends;
	Enter, and cry 'The Dauphin!' presently,
	And then do execution on the watch.

	[Alarum. Exeunt]

	[An alarum. Enter TALBOT in an excursion]

TALBOT	France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
	If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
	Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress,
	Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
	That hardly we escaped the pride of France.

	[Exit]

	[An alarum: excursions. BEDFORD, brought in sick
	in a chair. Enter TALBOT and BURGUNDY without:
	within JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
	ALENCON, and REIGNIER, on the walls]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread?
	I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
	Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
	'Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?

BURGUNDY	Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan!
	I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own
	And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.

CHARLES	Your grace may starve perhaps before that time.

BEDFORD	O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!

JOAN LA PUCELLE	What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
	And run a tilt at death within a chair?

TALBOT	Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
	Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!
	Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
	And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
	Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
	Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
	If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.

	[The English whisper together in council]

	God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker?

TALBOT	Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
	To try if that our own be ours or no.

TALBOT	I speak not to that railing Hecate,
	But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest;
	Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?

ALENCON	Signior, no.

TALBOT	Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
	Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
	And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
	For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
	God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you
	That we are here.

	[Exeunt from the walls]

TALBOT	And there will we be too, ere it be long,
	Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
	Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
	Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France,
	Either to get the town again or die:
	And I, as sure as English Henry lives
	And as his father here was conqueror,
	As sure as in this late-betrayed town
	Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried,
	So sure I swear to get the town or die.

BURGUNDY	My vows are equal partners with thy vows.

TALBOT	But, ere we go, regard this dying prince,
	The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord,
	We will bestow you in some better place,
	Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.

BEDFORD	Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
	Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen
	And will be partner of your weal or woe.

BURGUNDY	Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you.

BEDFORD	Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
	That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
	Came to the field and vanquished his foes:
	Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
	Because I ever found them as myself.

TALBOT	Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
	Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe!
	And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
	But gather we our forces out of hand
	And set upon our boasting enemy.

	[Exeunt all but BEDFORD and Attendants]

	[An alarum: excursions. Enter FASTOLFE and
	a Captain]

Captain	Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste?

FASTOLFE	Whither away! to save myself by flight:
	We are like to have the overthrow again.

Captain	What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot?

FASTOLFE	Ay,
	All the Talbots in the world, to save my life!

	[Exit]

Captain	Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee!

	[Exit]

	[Retreat: excursions. JOAN LA PUCELLE, ALENCON,
	and CHARLES fly]

BEDFORD	Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
	For I have seen our enemies' overthrow.
	What is the trust or strength of foolish man?
	They that of late were daring with their scoffs
	Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.

	[BEDFORD dies, and is carried in by two in his chair]

	[An alarum. Re-enter TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the rest]

TALBOT	Lost, and recover'd in a day again!
	This is a double honour, Burgundy:
	Yet heavens have glory for this victory!

BURGUNDY	Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
	Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
	Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments.

TALBOT	Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?
	I think her old familiar is asleep:
	Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?
	What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
	That such a valiant company are fled.
	Now will we take some order in the town,
	Placing therein some expert officers,
	And then depart to Paris to the king,
	For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

BURGUNDY	What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.

TALBOT	But yet, before we go, let's not forget
	The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
	But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
	A braver soldier never couched lance,
	A gentler heart did never sway in court;
	But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
	For that's the end of human misery.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT III



SCENE III	The plains near Rouen.


	[Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, JOAN
	LA PUCELLE, and forces]

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
	Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
	Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
	For things that are not to be remedied.
	Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
	And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
	We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
	If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.

CHARLES	We have been guided by thee hitherto,
	And of thy cunning had no diffidence:
	One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Search out thy wit for secret policies,
	And we will make thee famous through the world.

ALENCON	We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
	And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
	Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
	By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words
	We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
	To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

CHARLES	Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
	France were no place for Henry's warriors;
	Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
	But be extirped from our provinces.

ALENCON	For ever should they be expulsed from France
	And not have title of an earldom here.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Your honours shall perceive how I will work
	To bring this matter to the wished end.

	[Drum sounds afar off]

	Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
	Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

	[Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over
	at a distance, TALBOT and his forces]

	There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
	And all the troops of English after him.

	[French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces]

	Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
	Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
	Summon a parley; we will talk with him.

	[Trumpets sound a parley]

CHARLES	A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!

BURGUNDY	Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

JOAN LA PUCELLE	The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

BURGUNDY	What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.

CHARLES	Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
	Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

BURGUNDY	Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
	And see the cities and the towns defaced
	By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
	As looks the mother on her lowly babe
	When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
	See, see the pining malady of France;
	Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
	Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
	O, turn thy edged sword another way;
	Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
	One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
	Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
	Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
	And wash away thy country's stained spots.

BURGUNDY	Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
	Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
	Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
	Who joint'st thou with but with a lordly nation
	That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
	When Talbot hath set footing once in France
	And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
	Who then but English Henry will be lord
	And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
	Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
	Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
	And was he not in England prisoner?
	But when they heard he was thine enemy,
	They set him free without his ransom paid,
	In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
	See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen
	And joint'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
	Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
	Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.

BURGUNDY	I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
	Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot,
	And made me almost yield upon my knees.
	Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
	And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
	My forces and my power of men are yours:
	So farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.

JOAN LA PUCELLE	[Aside]  Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!

CHARLES	Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.

BASTARD OF ORLEANS	And doth beget new courage in our breasts.

ALENCON	Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this,
	And doth deserve a coronet of gold.

CHARLES	Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
	And seek how we may prejudice the foe.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT III



SCENE IV	Paris. The palace.


	[Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK,
	EXETER, VERNON	BASSET, and others. To them
	with his Soldiers, TALBOT]

TALBOT	My gracious prince, and honourable peers,
	Hearing of your arrival in this realm,
	I have awhile given truce unto my wars,
	To do my duty to my sovereign:
	In sign, whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim'd
	To your obedience fifty fortresses,
	Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength,
	Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,
	Lets fall his sword before your highness' feet,
	And with submissive loyalty of heart
	Ascribes the glory of his conquest got
	First to my God and next unto your grace.

	[Kneels]

KING HENRY VI	Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
	That hath so long been resident in France?

GLOUCESTER	Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.

KING HENRY VI	Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!
	When I was young, as yet I am not old,
	I do remember how my father said
	A stouter champion never handled sword.
	Long since we were resolved of your truth,
	Your faithful service and your toil in war;
	Yet never have you tasted our reward,
	Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks,
	Because till now we never saw your face:
	Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
	We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
	And in our coronation take your place.

	[Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET]

VERNON	Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
	Disgracing of these colours that I wear
	In honour of my noble Lord of York:
	Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest?

BASSET	Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage
	The envious barking of your saucy tongue
	Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

VERNON	Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.

BASSET	Why, what is he? as good a man as York.

VERNON	Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that.

	[Strikes him]

BASSET	Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such
	That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death,
	Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
	But I'll unto his majesty, and crave
	I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
	When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.

VERNON	Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you;
	And, after, meet you sooner than you would.

	[Exeunt]




	1 KING HENRY VI


ACT IV



SCENE I	Paris. A hall of state.


	[Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF
	WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK,
	TALBOT, EXETER, the Governor, of Paris, and others]

GLOUCESTER	Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.

BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER	God save King Henry, of that name the sixth!

GLOUCESTER	Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,
	That you elect no other king but him;
	Esteem none friends but such as are his friends,
	And none your foes but such as shall pretend
	Malicious practises against his state:
	This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!

	[Enter FASTOLFE]

FASTOLFE	My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais,
	To haste unto your coronation,
	A letter was deliver'd to my hands,
	Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.

TALBOT	Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!
	I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next,
	To tear the garter from thy craven's leg,

	[Plucking it off]

	Which I have done, because unworthily
	Thou wast installed in that high degree.
	Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest
	This dastard, at the battle of Patay,
	When but in all I was six thousand strong
	And that the French were almost ten to one,
	Before we met or that a stroke was given,
	Like to a trusty squire did run away:
	In which assault we lost twelve hundred men;
	Myself and divers gentlemen beside
	Were there surprised and taken prisoners.
	Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss;
	Or whether that such cowards ought