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. 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 men? 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 :

Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks? 7

What, all a-mort? 8 Rouen hangs her head for grief,
That such a valiant company are fled.

Now will we take some order 9 in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers;
And then depart to Paris, to the king:
For there young Harry, with his nobles, lies.

Bur. What wills lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But see his exequies fulfill'd in Roüen;
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 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 córrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantick 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 extirped from our provinces.

2

Alen. For ever should they be expuls'd from
France,

And not have title to an earldom here.
Puc. Your honours shall perceive how I will work,
To bring this matter to the wished end.

[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;
And all the troops of English after him.

A 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.
Summon a parley, we will talk with him.

[A parley sounded. Char. A parley with the duke of Burgundy. Bur. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy country

man.

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.
Puc. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defac'd
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 woeful 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!

Bur. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her

words,

Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Puc. Besides, all French and France exclaims on

thee,

Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join'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 ransome paid,
In spite of Burgundy, and all his friends.
See then! thou fight'st against thy countrymen,
2 Expelled.

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. Glo. What means his grace, that he hath chang'd his style? [Viewing the superscription. 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? - I have, upon especial cause, ·

[Reads.

Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck,
Together with the pitiful complaints

Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
Forsaken your pernicious faction,

And join'd with Charles, the rightful king of France. O monstrous treachery! Can this be so; That in alliance, amity, and oaths, There should be found such false dissembling guile? K. Hen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? Glo. He doth, my lord; and is become your foe.

K. Hen. Is that the worst, this letter doth contain?
Glo. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
K. Hen. Why then, lord Talbot there shall talk
with him,

And give him chastisement for this abuse:
My lord, how say you? are you not content?
Tal. Content, my liege? Yes; but that I am
prevented 8,

I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. K. Hen. Then gather strength, and march unto him straight:

Let him perceive, how ill we brook his treason;
And what offence it is, to flout his friends.

Tal. I go, my lord; in heart desiring still,
You may behold confusion of your foes.

Enter VERNON and BASSET.

[Exit.

Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd 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.
K. Hen. Alas! what madness rules in brain-sick
men !

When, for so slight and frivolous a cause,
Such factious 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.
Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
Bas. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
Glo. Confirm it so? confounded be your strife,

And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
Presumptuous vassals! are you not asham'd,
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;

be friends.

Good my lords,

K. Hen. Come hither, you that would be com. batants :

Henceforth, I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel, and the cause. —
And you, my lords, remember where we are;
In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation :
If they perceive dissension in our looks,
And that within ourselves we disagree,
How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd
To wilful disobedience, and rebel?
Beside, what infamy will there arise,
When foreign princes shall be certified,
That, for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's peers, and chief nobility,
Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of France?
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,

[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;
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;
From thence to England; where I hope ere long
To be presented, by your victories,
With Charles, Alençon, and that traitorous rout.
[Flourish. Exeunt KING HENRY, GLO. SOM.
WIN. SUF. and BASSET.

War. My lord of York, I promise you, the king Prettily, methought, did play the orator.

York. And so he did; but yet I like it not, In that he wears the badge of Somerset.

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. Ere. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;

For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd
But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
This jarring discord of nobility,

This should'ring of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favourites,
But that it doth presage some ill event.
'Tis much, when scepters are in children's hands;
But more, when envy breeds unkind division;
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. [Exil.
SCENE II. France. Before Bourdeaux.

Enter TALBOT, with his Forces.

Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter, Summon their general unto the wall. Trumpet sounds a Parley. Enter, on the Walls, the General of the French Forces, and others. 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: But, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace, You tempt the fury of my three attendants, 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.

Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror, and their bloody scourge!
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On us thou canst not enter but by death:
For, I protest, we are well fortified,
And strong enough to issue out and fight:
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 wall 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 sacrament,
To rive their dangerous artillery

Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
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 this sandy hour,
These eyes, that see thee now well coloured,
Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
[Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! the dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy musick to thy timorous soul;
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.

[Exeunt General, &c. from the Walls.
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,
Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood 3 :
Not rascal-like 4, to fall down with a pinch;
But rather moody-mad, and desperate stags,
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 colours in this dangerous fight!

[Exeunt.

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 6 by a traitor villain,
And cannot help the noble chevalier :
God comfort him in his necessity!
If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY.

Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength,
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 honour.
York. O, would 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 !

2 Endue, honour.

4 A rascal deer is the term of chase for lean poor deer.

5 Spies.

3 In high spirits.

6 Vanquished, baffled.