But kings, and mightieft potentates, must die;
For that's the end of human mifery.

SCENE

III.

The fame. The plain near the city.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Dauphin, Bastard, Alençon, and Joan la Pucelle.

Pucel. Difmay not, princes, at this accident,

Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered:

Care is no cure, but rather corrofive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
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 reft, will be but rul'd.

Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence ;
One fudden foil fhall never breed distrust.

Baft. Search out thy wit for fecret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
Alen. We'll fet thy ftatue in fome holy place,
And have thee reverenc'd like a bleffed faint;
Employ thee then, fweet virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devife:
By fair perfuafions, mix'd with fugar'd words,

We will entice the duke of Burgundy

To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Dau. Ay, marry, fweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry's warriors;
Nor fhould that nation boaft it fo with us,

But be 'extirped from our provinces.

extirped]-rooted out.

Alen.

Alen. For ever fhould they be 'expuls'd from France, And not have title of an earldom here.

Pucel. Your honours fhall perceive how I will work, To bring this matter to the wished end.

[Drums beat afar off. Hark! by the found of drum, you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

[Here beat an English march.

[French march.

There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread;
And all the troops of English after him.
Now, in the rereward, conies the duke, and his;
Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley, we will talk with him.

[Trumpets found a parley.

Enter the duke of Burgundy, marching.

Dau. A parley with, the duke of Burgundy.
Burg. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
Pucel. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
Burg. What fay'ft thou, Charles? for I am marching

hence.

Dau. Speak, Pucelle; and enchant him with thy words. Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble hand-maid speak to thee.

Burg. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

Pucel. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,

And fee the cities and the towns defac'd

By wafting ruin of the cruel foe!

As looks the mother on her lowly babe,

When death doth close his tender dying eyes,

See, fee, the pining malady of France;

Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,

Which thou thyfelf haft given her woful breast!
Oh, turn thy edged fword another way;

Strike thofe that hurt, and hurt not thofe that help!
One drop of blood, drawn from thy country's bofom,
Should grieve thee more than ftreams of foreign gore;
Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears,

And wash away thy country's ftained spots!

Burg. Either fhe hath bewitch'd me with her words, Or nature makes me fuddenly relent.

. Pucel. Befides, all French and France exclaims on thee, Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.

Whom join'st thou with, but with a lordly nation,

That will not truft thee, but for profit's fake?
When Talbot hath fet footing once in France,
And 'fashion'd thee that inftrument 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 fet him free, without his ransom paid,
In fpight of Burgundy, and all his friends.
See then! thou fight'ft against thy countrymen,
And join'ft with them will be thy flaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wand'ring lord;
Charles, and the reft, will take thee in their arms.

Burg. I am vanquished; thefe haughty words of hers Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-fhot,

And made me almost yield upon my knees.—

Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen!

progeny.]-pedigree, extraction.

f fabion'd thee that inftrument of ill,]-made ufe of thee as the means of his fuccefs. baughty]-fpirited, elevated, majeftic terms.

And

And, lords, accept, this hearty kind embrace :
My forces and my power of men are yours ;-
So, farewel, Talbot; I'll no longer truft thee.

Pucel. Done like a Frenchman; "turn, and turn again! Dau. Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.

Baft. And doth beget new courage in our breafts. Alen. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deferve a coronet of gold.

Dau. Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers; And feek how we may prejudice the foe.

SCENE IV.

Paris. An apartment in the palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter king Henry, Glofter, Vernon, Baffet, &c. To them Talbot, with foldiers.

Tal. My gracious prince,-and honourable peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm,

I have a while given truce unto my wars,

To do my duty to my fovereign:

In fign whereof, this arm-that hath reclaim'd

To your obedience fifty fortreffes,

Twelve cities, and feven walled towns of ftrength,
Befide five hundred prifoners of esteem,-
Lets fall his fword before your highness' feet;
And, with fubmiffive loyalty of heart,
Afcribes the glory of his conqueft got,
First to my God, and next unto your grace.
K. Henry. Is this the Talbot, uncle Glofter,
That hath fo long been refident in France?

turn, and turn again !]-Inconftancy was deem'd characteristic of the French.

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

K. Henry. Welcome, brave captain, and victorious lord! When I was young, (as yet I am not old) I do remember how my father said, A ftouter champion never handled fword. Long fince we were refolved of your truth, Your faithful fervice, 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 faw your face: Therefore, ftand up; and, for these good deserts, We here create you earl of Shrewsbury;

And in our coronation take your place.

[Exeunt King, Glo. Tal.

Ver. Now, Sir, to you, that were fo hot at fea, Difgracing of these colours that I wear

k

In honour of my noble lord of York,

Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou fpak'ft?

Baf. Yes, fir; as well as you dare patronage
The envious barking of your faucy tongue
Against my lord, the duke of Somerset.
Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
Baf. Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
Ver. Hark ye; not fo: in witness, take

ye that.

[Strikes him. Baf. Villain, thou know'ft, 'the law of arms is fuch,

That, who fo draws a fword, 'tis present death;
Or else this blow fhould "broach thy deareft blood.
But I'll unto his majefty, and crave

I may have liberty to venge this wrong;

When thou fhalt fee, I'll meet thee to thy coft.

reguerdon'd]-repaid.

k tbefe colours]-the white rofe. the lace of arms is fucb, &c.]-in this place in the prefencem breach-let out.

chamber.