Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, A prophet to the fall of all our foes! Alen. Defer no time, Delays have dangerous ends; Enter, and cry-The Dauphin!-presently, If Talbot but survive thy treachery.- you. Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!-- Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, bread? I think, the duke of Burgundy will fast Before he'll buy again at such a rate: Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless court ezan. 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. Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason! Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance, And run a tilt at death within a chair? 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 peace; If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.— [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 Hecaté, 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.God be wi' you, my lord! we came, sir, but to tell you That we are here. [Exeunt La Pucelle, &c. from the walls. Tal. 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, (1) Haughty power. (3) Quite dispirited. But gather we our forces out of hand, [Exeunt Burgundy, Talbot, and forces, leav Alarum: Excursions. Enter Sir John Fastolfe, and a Captain. Capt. Whither away, sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? 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 Pucelle, Alençon, Charles, &c.; and exeunt, flying. Bed. 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. [Dies, and is carried off in his chair. Alarum: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and others. Tal. Lost, and recover'd in a day again! This is a double honour, Burgundy: Yet, heavens have glory for this victory! Bur. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy Enshrines thee in his heart; and there erects Thy noble deeds, as valour's monument. Tal. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now? I think, her old familiar is asleep : What, all a-mort?3 Rouen hangs her head for grief, (4) Make some necessary dispositions. A braver soldier never couched lance, [Exeunt. The plains near the city. Enter Charles, the Bastard, Alençon, La Pucelle, and forces. Puc. Dismay not, princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered: Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied. Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while, And like a peacock sweep along his tail; We'll pull his plumes, and take away his train, If dauphin, and the rest, will be but rul'd. Char. We have been guided by thee hitherto, And of thy cunning had no diffidence; One sudden foil shall never breed distrust. Bast. Search out thy wit for secret policies, And we will make thee famous through the world. Alen. We'll set thy statue in some holy place, And have thee reverenc'd like a blessed saint; Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good. Puc. 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. Char. 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 extirped1 from our provinces. Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that' Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears, Bur. Either she hath bewitch'd me with h words, Or nature makes me suddenly relent. Puc. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot, Alen. For ever should they be expuls'd2 from Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen! France, And not have title to an earldom here. [Drums heard. Hark! by the sound of drum, you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. An English march. Enter, and pass over at a distance, Talbot and his forces. There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread; Now, in the rearward, comes the duke and his; And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace: Char. Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh. Bast. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Alen. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deserve a coronet of gold. Char. Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers; [Exe. And seek how we may prejudice the foe. Tal. My gracious prince, and honourable peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm, Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy coun-I have a while given truce unto my wars, tryman. Bur. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence. Char. Speak, Pucelle; and enchant him with thy words. Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. Bur. Speak on; but be not over-tedious. As looks the mother on her lowly babe, To do my duty to my sovereign: K. Hen. Is this the lord Talbot, uncle Gloster, When I was young (as yet I am not old,) I do remember how my father said, (3) Elevated. Long since we were resolved1 of your truth, Or been reguerdon'd2 with so much as thanks, [Exeunt King Henry, Gloster, Talbot, and Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In honour of my noble lord of York,— Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st? Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the duke of Somerset. Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is. I may have liberty to venge this wrong; ACT IV. [Exeunt. SCENE I-The same. A room of state. Enter King Henry, Gloster, Exeter, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Winchester, Warwick, Talbot, the Governor of Paris, and others. Glo. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head. Win. God save king Henry, of that name the Sixth! Were there surpris'd, and taken prisoners. Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood, yea, or no. Glo. To say the truth, this fact was infamous, And ill beseeming any common man; Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader. Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords, Knights of the garter were of noble birth; Valiant, and virtuous, full of haughty courage, Such as were grown to credit by the wars; Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress, But always resolute in most extremes.6 He then, that is not furnish'd in this sort, Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, Profaning this most honourable order; And should (if I were worthy to be judge,) Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain That doth presume to boast of gentle blood. K. Hen. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'st thy doom: Be packing therefore, thou that wast a knight; And now, my lord protector, view the letter [Reads O monstrous treachery! Can this be so; That in alliance, amity, and oaths, Glo. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath-There should be found such false dissembling guile? [Governor kneels. That you elect no other king but him: Esteem none friends, but such as are his friends; Fast. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from To haste unto your coronation, [Plucking it off (1) Confirmed in opinion. (2) Rewarded. (3) Design. (4) Mean, dastar ly. (5) High. K. Hen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? And give him chastisement for this abuse :— I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd, Ver. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. Bas. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. K. Hen. What is that wrong whereof you both First let me know, and then I'll answer you. Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord: Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him; York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? Som. Your private grudge, my lord of York, will out, Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. K. Hen. Good Lord! what madness rules in brain-sick men ; When, for so slight and frivolous a cause, York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. you, my lords, methinks, you do not well, To bear with their perverse objections; Much less, to take occasion from their mouths To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves; Let me persuade you take a better course. Exe. It grieves his highness;-Good my lords,| be friends. K. Hen. Come hither, you that would be combatants: Henceforth, I charge you, as you love our favour, My tender years; and let us not forego [Putting on a red rose That any one should therefore be suspicious Your angry choler on your enemies. York. And so he did; but yet I like it not, War. Tush! that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. York. And, if I wist, he did,-But let it rest; Other affairs must now be managed. [Exeunt York, Warwick, and Vernon. Exe. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice: For, had the passions of thy heart burst out, This should'ring of each other in the court, Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter, Summon their general unto the wall. Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter, on the walls Our nation's terror, and their bloody scourge! Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot. [Exeunt General, &c. from the walls. Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! [Exe. SCENE III.—Plains in Gascony. Enter York, with forces; to him a Messenger. York. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again, That dogg'd the mighty army of the dauphin? Mess. They are return'd, my lord; and give it out, That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot: As he march'd along, By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops than that the dauphin led; Which join'd with him, and made their march for Bourdeaux. York. A plague upon that villain Somerset; That thus delays my promised supply Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege! Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid; And I am lowted by a traitor villain, And cannot help the noble chevalier: God comfort him in this necessity! If he miscarry, farewell wars in France. Enter Sir William Lucy. York. O God! that Somerset-who in proud heart Doth stop my cornets-were in Talbot's place! So should we save a valiant gentleman, By forfeiting a traitor and a coward. Mad ire, and wrathful fury, makes me weep, That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep. Lucy. O, send some succour to the distress'd lord! York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word: We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset. Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul! And on his son, young John; whom, two hours since, I met in travel toward his warlike father! York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have, Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition Henry the Fifth-Whiles they each other cross, Somerset, with his forces; an Officer of Taibot's with him. Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now: Too rashly plotted; all our general force This expedition was by York, and Talbot, Might with a sally of the very town Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour, By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure: York set him on to fight, and die in shame, That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name. Offi. Here is sir William Lucy, who with me Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid. Enter Sir William Lucy. Som. How now, sir William? whither were you sent? Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold lord Talbot ;8 Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, Cries out for noble York and Somerset, And whiles the honourable captain there Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue, Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour, Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. Let not your private discord keep away (7) Alluding to the tale of Prometheus. (8) i. e. From one utterly ruined by the treache rous practices of others. (9) Encircled. |