Tal. Lost, and recover'd in a day again!
This is a double honor, Burgundy:
Yet heavens have glory for this victory!
Bur. Warlike and martial Talbot, Bar-
gundy

Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valor's monuments.

120

Tol. 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.
Bur. What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Bur-
gundy.

130
Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court;
But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that's the end of human misery.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The plains near Rouen. Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD of Orleans, ALENÇON, LA PUCELLE, and forces. Pue. 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.

Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. 30
Here sound an English march. Enter, and
pass over at a distance, TALBOT and his forces.
There goes the Talbot, with his colors spread,
And all the troops of English after him.
French march. Enter the DUKE OF BUR-
GUNDY and forces.

Now in the rearward comes the duke and his :
Fortune in favor makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley; we will talk with him.
[Trumpets sound a parley.
Char. A parley with the Duke of Bur-

gundy!

Bur. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

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

Char. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with

thy words.

40

Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!

Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. Bur. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

Puc. 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,

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 country.

men

70

And joint'st with them will be thy slaughter

men.

Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:

Charles and the rest will take thee in their

armis.

Bur. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers

Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees. 80
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.
Puc. [Aside] Done like a Frenchman : turn,
and turn again!

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

Bast. And doth beget new courage in our

breasts.

King. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,

That hath so long been resident in France? Glou. Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.

King. Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!

When I was young, as yet I am not old,

I do remember how my father said

A stouter champion never handled sword.
Long since we were resolved of your truth, 20
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.
Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at
sea,

Disgracing of these colors that I wear
In honor of my noble Lord of York:
Darest thou maintain the former words thou

spakest ?

30

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

Ver. Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye
that.
[Strikes him.

Bas. 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

40

I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.
Ver. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon

as you;

And, after meet you sooner than you would. [Exeunt

ACT IV.

SCENE L. Paris. A hall of state. Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK, TALBOT, EXETER, the Governor of Paris, and others.

Glou. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.

Win. God save King Henry, of that name the sixth !

Glon. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,

That you elect no other king but him;
Esteein none friends but such as are his
friends,

And none your foes but such as shall pretend
Malicious practices against his state:
This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE.

Fast. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from
Calais,

10

To haste unto your coronation,
A letter was deliver'd to my hands,
Writ to your grace from the Duke of Bur-
gundy.

Tal. 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 Thon 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 20 And that the French were almost ten to one, Before we met or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire did run away: In which assault we lost twelve hundred men ; Myself and divers gentlemen beside Were there surprised and taken prisoners. Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood, yea or no.

Gou. To say the truth, this fact was in-
famous
30

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 virtucus, full of haughty courage,

Such as were grown to credit by the wars; Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress, But always resolute in most extremes. He then that is not furnish d in this sort Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, 40 Profaning this most honorable order, And should, if I were worthy to be judge, Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.

King. Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom!

Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight:

Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.
[Exit Fastolfe.
And now, my lord protector, view the letter
Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.

Glou. What means his grace, that he hath
changed his style?
50
No more but, plain and bluntly, 'To the king!'
Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?
Or doth this churlish superscription
Pretend some alteration in good will?
What's here? [Reads] 'I have, upon especial

guile?

King. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt ?

Glou. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.

King. Is that the worst this letter doth contain ?

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

King. Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him

And give him chastisement for this abuse. How say you, my lord? are you not content? Tal. Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented,

71

I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.

King. Then gather strength and march unto him straight:

Let him perceive how ill we brook his trea

Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord : For though he seem with forged quaint conceit

To set a gloss upon his bold intent,

Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him, And he first took exceptions at this badge, Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart. York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left ?

Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,

Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. 110 K. Hen. Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men,

When for so slight and frivolous a cause
Such factions emulations shall arise!
Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
York. Let this dissension first be tried by
fight,

And then your highness shall command a

peace.

Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;

Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.

York.. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. 120

Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first. Bas. Confirm it so, mine honorable lord.

Glou Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife!

And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed
With this immodest clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the king and us?
And you, my lords, methinks you do not well
To bear with their perverse objections:
Much less to take occasion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves :
Let me persuade you take a better course.
Exe. It grieves his highness: good my
lords, be friends.

131

K. Ilen. Come hither, you that would be combatants :

Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favor,

O, think upon the conquest of my father,
My tender years, and let us not forego
That for a trifle that was bought with blood
Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
I see no reason, if I wear this rose,

151

[Putting on a red rose. That any one should therefore be suspicious I more incline to Somerset than York": Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both : As well they may upbraid me with my crown, Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd But your discretions better can persuade Than I am able to instruct or teach: And therefore, as we hither came in peace, So let us still continue peace and love. Cousin of York, we institute your grace To be our regent in these parts of France: And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot;

161

And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,

Go cheerfully together and digest
Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourself, my lord protector and the rest
After some respite will return to Calais ; 170
From thence to England; where I hope ere long
To be presented, by your victories,

With Charles, Alençon and that traitorous

rout.

This jarring discord of nobility,
This shouldering of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favorites, 190
But that it doth presage some ili event.

Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands;

But more when envy breeds unkind division; There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. [Exit.

SCENE II. Before Bourdeaux.

Enter TALBOT, with trump and drum. Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux trumpeter:

Summon their general unto the wall.
Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others,
aloft.

English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
And thus he would: Open your city gates;
Be humble to us, call my sovereign yours,
And do him homage as obedient subjects;
And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power:
Bat, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
You tempt the fury of my three attendants, 10
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing
fire;

Who in a moment even with the earth

Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers, If you forsake the offer of their love.

Ga. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death.

Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge !
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On as thou canst not enter but by death;
For. I protest, we are well fortified

And strong enough to issue out and fight: 20
If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:
On either hand thee there are squadrons
pitch'd,

To wai thee from the liberty of flight;
And no way canst thou turn thee for redress,
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil
And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacra-

ment

To rive their dangerous artillery

Coon no Christian soul but English Talbot. 30 Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant

man,

Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit!
This is the latest glory of thy praise
That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
For ere the glass. that now begins to run,
Finish the process of his sandy hour,
These eyes, that see thee now well colored,
Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale and dead.
[Drum afar off.

Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,

Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul; 40
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
[Exeunt General, &c.
Tal. He fables not; I hear the enemy:

Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.

O, negligent and heedless discipline!
How are we park'd and bounded in a pale,
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood;
Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch,
But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags, 50
Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of
steel

And make the cowards stand aloof at bay :
Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
And they shall find dear deer of us, my
friends.

God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right,

Prosper our colors in this dangerous fight! [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Plains in Gascony.

Enter a Messenger that meets YORK. Enter YORK with trumpet and many Soldiers. York. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again,

That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin? Mess. They are return'd, my lord, and give

it out

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 WALTER LUCY.

Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength,

20

Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
And hemm'd about with grim destruction:
To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux,
York!

Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's
honor.
[heart
York. O God, that Somerset, who in proud
Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep,
That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
Lucy. O, send some succor to the distress'd
lord!
30
York. He dies, we lose; I break my w
like word;

4