For I am sorry that with reverence Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake But only, with your patience, that we may The Temple-garden. SCENE IV. — London. Enter the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick; Richard Plantagenet, Vernon, and another Lawyer. Plan. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence? Dare no man answer in a case of truth? Suf. Within the Temple-hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient. Plan. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth; Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error? Suf. 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. Som. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us. [pitch; War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher 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 judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance: The truth appears so naked on my side That any purblind eye may find it out. Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd, So clear, so shining and so evident That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. Plan. Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak, In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts: War. I love no colours, and without all colour Of base insinuating flattery I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet. Suf. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset And say withal I think he held the right. Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck more, Till you conclude that he upon whose side Som. Good Master Vernon, it is well objected: no Ver. Then for the truth and plainness of the case, I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, Giving my verdict on the white rose side. Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red And fall on my side so, against your will. Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, Som. Well, well, come on: who else? Law. Unless my study and my books be false, That shall maintain what I have said is true, Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William de la Pole! We grace the yeoman by conversing with him. War. 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? Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege, Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus. Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my On any plot of ground in Christendom. [words 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. Plan. 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. · Som. 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. Plan. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, Will I for ever and my faction wear, Until it wither with me to my grave Or flourish to the height of my degree. [tion! Suf. Go forward and be choked with thy ambiAnd so farewell until I meet thee next. [Exit. Som. Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard. [Exit. Plan. How I am braved and must perforce endure it! [house War. This blot that they object against your I will not live to be accounted Warwick. Shall send between the red rose and the white Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say SCENE V.-The Tower of London. Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Gaolers. These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, come: We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber; Mor. Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied. Enter Richard Plantagenet. First Gaol. My lord, your loving nephew now is come. Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come ? Mor. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, Why didst thou say, of late thou wert despised? arm; And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease. And for alliance sake, declare the cause Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, Mor. I will, if that my fading breath permit The reason moved these warlike lords to this Was, for that- young King Richard thus removed, I was the next by birth and parentage; Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the last. Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politic: Plan. O, uncle, would some part of my young years Mor. Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaugh- Which giveth many wounds when one will kill. And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes [Exeunt Gaolers, bearing out the body of Mortimer. Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me Either to be restored to my blood, And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth Or make my ill the advantage of my good. [Exit. London. ACT III. The Parliament-house. SCENE I. Flourish. Enter King, Exeter, Gloucester, Warwick, Somerset, and Suffolk; the Bishop of Winchester, Richard Plantagenet, and others. Gloucester offers to put up a bill; Winchester snatches it, and tears it. Win. 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. Glou. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience, Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me. Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling? Thou bastard of my grandfather! As good! [safe I pray, Win. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, Thou art reverent Roam thither, then. Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. War. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. Som. Methinks my lord should be religious And know the office that belongs to such. War. Methinks his lordship should be humbler; It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. War. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? [tongue, Plan. [Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his 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. May. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry, The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men, Enter Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates. Sec. Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glou. You of my household, leave this peevish And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. [broil Third Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, [man 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 Or who should study to prefer a peace, If holy churchmen take delight in broils? War. 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. Win. He shall submit, or I will never yield. Glou. Compassion on the king commands me Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest [stoop; Should ever get that privilege of me. War. 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? Glou. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. King. 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, War. Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird. Win. Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee; See here, my friends and loving countrymen; Win. [Aside] So help me God, as I intend it not! [prince, At Eltham Place I told your majesty. War. Let Richard be restored to his blood: Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience I gird thee with the valiant sword of York: Plan. And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall! [Henry goes; King. When Gloucester says the word, King For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Glou. Your ships already are in readiness. [Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but Exeter. Exe. Ay, we may march in England or in France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue. This late dissension grown betwixt the peers As fester'd members rot but by degree, And now I fear that fatal prophecy [Exit. SCENE II.-France. Before Rouen. Enter La Pucelle disguised, with four Soldiers with sacks upon their backs. Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach: Take heed, be wary how 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 Sol. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the And we be lords and rulers over Rouen; Therefore we 'll knock. Watch. [Within] Qui est là? [city, [Knocks. Puc. Paysans, pauvres gens de France; Poor market folks that come to sell their corn. Watch. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Exeunt. Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, Reignier, and forces. Char. Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem! And once again we 'll sleep secure in Rouen. Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants; Now she is there, how will she specify Where is the best and safest passage in? Reign. 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 La Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning. Puc. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch [Exit. Bast. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; The burning torch in yonder turret stands. Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, A prophet to the fall of all our foes! Reign. 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. Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy If Talbot but survive thy treachery. [tears, 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 La Pucelle, Charles, Bastard, Alençon, and Reignier, on the walls. [bread? Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast Before he 'll buy again at such a rate: 'T was full of darnel; do you like the taste? Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan! I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. Char. Your grace may starve perhaps before that time.. [treason! Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break And run a tilt at death within a chair? [a lance, Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead? Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. Puc. Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow. [peace; [The English whisper together in council. God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? Puc. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools, To try if that our own be ours or no. Tal. I speak not to that railing Hecate, Tal. Signior, hang! base muleters of France! Puc. 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. 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 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. Bur. My vows are equal partners with thy vows. Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me: [you. Bur. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast! [Exeunt all but Bedford and Attendants. An alarum: excursions. Enter Sir John Fastolfe and a Captain. Cap. Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? Fast. Whither away! to save myself by flight: We are like to have the overthrow again. Cap. What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot! Fast. Ay, All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. [Exit. Cap. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! [Exit. Retreat: excursions. La Pucelle, Alençon, and Charles fly. 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. [Bedford dies, and is carried in by two in his chair. An alarum. Re-enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest. Tal. Lost, and recover'd in a day again! Bur. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief Bur. What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The plains near Rouen. Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, 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 ruled. 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 reverenced 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 extirped from our provinces. Alen. For ever should they be expulsed from And not have title of an earldom here. [France Puc. 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 the Duke of Burgundy and forces. Now in the rearward comes the duke and his: Fortune in favour makes him lag behind. Suminon a parley; we will talk with him. [Trumpets sound a parley. Char. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! Bur. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. [ing hence. Bur. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marchChar. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. |