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Ver. GR

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Enter Vernon and Baffet.

RANT me the combat, gracious Sovereign,
Baf. And me, my lord; grant me the combat

too.

York. This is my fervant; hear him, noble Prince. Som. And this is mine; fweet Henry, favour him. K. Henry. Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak.

Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom? Ver. With him, my lord, for he hath done me wrong. Baf. And I with him, for he hath done me wrong. K. Henry. What is the wrong whereon you both complain?

Firft let me know, and then I'll answer you.

Baf. Croffing the fea from England into France
This fellow here, with envious, carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rofe I wear;

Saying, the fanguine colour of the leaves
Did reprefent my master's blushing cheeks;
When ftubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain queftion in the law,
Argu'd betwixt the Duke of York and him ;
With other vile and ignominious terms.
In confutation of which rude reproach,
And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.

Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord;
For though he feem with forged quaint conceit
To fet a glofs upon his bold intent,

Yet, know, my lord, I was provok'd by him;
And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing, that the palenefs of this flow'r
Bewray'd the faintnefs of my mafter's heart.

York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my lord of York, will out,
Though

Though ne'er fo cunningly you fmother it.

K. Henry. Good lord! what madness rules in brainfick men !

When, for fo flight and frivolous a caufe,
Such factious emulations fhall arife!
Good coufins both of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
York. Let this diffention firft be try'd by fight,
And then your Highness fhall 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, Somerfet.
Ver. Nay, let it reft, where it began at first.
Baf. Confirm it fo? mine honourable lord.
Glou. Confirm it fo? confounded be your ftrife,
And perifh ye with your audacious prate;
Presumptuous vaffals! are you not asham'd
With this immodeft clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the King, and us?
And you, my lords, methinks, you do not well
To bear with their perverfe objections:
Much lefs to take occafion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves:
Let me perfuade you, take a better course.

Exe. It grieves his Highnefs: good my lords, be

friends.

[tants: K. Henry. Come hither you, that would be combaHenceforth I charge you, as you love our favour, Quite to forget this quarrel and the caufe. And you, my lords; remember where we are ; In France, amongft a fickle wavering nation: If they perceive diffention in our looks, And that within ourselves we disagree, How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd To wilful Difobedience, and Rebel? Befide, what infamy will there arise, When foreign Princes fhall be certify'd, That for a toy, a thing of no regard,

R 2

King

King Henry's Peers and chief Nobility

Deftroy'd themfelves, and loft the realm of France?
O, think upon the Conqueft of my father,
My tender years, and let us not forego

That for a trifle, which was bought with blood.
Let me be Umpire in this doubtful ftrife:
I fee no reason, if I wear this rofe,
That any one fhould therefore be fufpicious.
I more encline to Somerfet, than York.

Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both.
As well they may upbraid me with my Crown,
Because, forfooth, the King of Scots is crown'd.
But your difcretions better can perfuade,
Than I am able to inftruct or teach:

And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us ftill continue peace and love.
Coufin of York, we inftitute your Grace
To be our Regent in these parts of France:
And, good my lord of Somerfet, unite

Your troops of horfemen with his bands of foot;
And, like true fubjects, fons of your progenitors,
Go chearfully together, and digeft

Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourfelf, my lord Protector, and the reft,
After fome refpite, will return to Calais ;
From thence to England; where I hope cre long
To be prefented, by your victories,
With Charles, Alanfon, and that trait'rous rout.
[Flourish. Exeunt.

Manent York, Warwick, Exeter, and Vernon. War. My lord of York, I promise you, the King Prettily, methought, did play the orator.

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

War. Tufh, that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare prefume, fweet Prince, he thought no harm. York. And, if I wis, he did.-But let it reft; Other affairs muft now be managed.

[Exeunt.

Manet

Manet Exeter.

Exe. Well didft thou, Richard, to fupprefs thy voice: For had the paffions of my heart burst out,

I fear, we should have feen decypher'd there
More ranc'rous fpight, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or fuppos'd.

But howfoe'er, no fimple man that fees
This jarring difcord of Nobility,

This fhould ring of each other in the Court,
This factious bandying of their favourites;
But that he doth prefage fome ill event.

'Tis much, when fcepters are in childrens' hands; But more, when envy breeds unkind divifion: There comes the ruin, there begins confufion. [Exit.

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Before the Walls of Bourdeaux.

Enter Talbot with trumpets, and drum.

O to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter,

Tal. Go

Enter General, aloft.

[Sounds.

English John Talbot, Captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
And thus he would. Open your city-gates,
Be humbled to us, call my Sovereign yours,
And do him homage as obedient fubjects,
And I'll withdraw me and my bloody pow'r.
But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
Lean famine, quartering fleel, and climbing fire;
Who in a moment even with the earth
Shall lay your stately and air-braving tow'rs,
If you forfake the offer of their love.
R 3

Gen.

Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror, and their bloody fcourge!
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On us thou canst not enter, but by death:
For, I proteft, we are well fortify'd;

And ftrong enough to iffue out and fight,
If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the fnares of war to tangle thee.
On either hand thee, there are fquadrons pitch'd
To wall thee from the liberty of flight;

And no way canft thou turn thee for redrefs:
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil;
And pale deftruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thoufand French have ta'en the facrament,
To rive their dangerous artillery

Upon no chriftian foul but English Talbot.
Lo! there thou fland'ft, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible, unconquer'd fpirit:
This is the latest glory of thy praise,
That I thy enemy due thee withal:
For ere the glafs, that now begins to run,
Finish the process of this fandy hour,

These eyes, that fee thee now well coloured,
Shall fee thee wither'd, bloody, pale and dead.
[Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy mufic to thy tim'rous foul;

And mine fhall ring thy dire departure out.

[Exit from the Walls.

Tal. He fables not: I hear the enemy:

Out, fome light horfemen, and peruse their wings.
O, negligent and heedlefs difcipline!
How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale?
A little herd of England's tim'rous Deer,
Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs.
If we be English Deer, be then in blood;
Not rafcal-like to fall down with a pinch,
But rather moody, mad, and defp'rate Stags,

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