The argument you held, was wrong in you; [To SOMERSET. In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument? Som. Here, in my scabbard; meditating that, Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red. Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our roses; For pale they look with fear, as witnessing Som. Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood. Som. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses, That shall maintain what I have said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, I scorn thee and thy faction, peevish boy. Suff. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and thee. Suff. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William De-la-Poole! We grace the yeoman, by conversing with him.j 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 restor❜d, 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 Poole, 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. Ay, 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 As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, [rose, Will I for ever, and my faction, wear; Until it wither with me to my grave, Or flourish to the height of my degree. Suff. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition! And, if thou be not then created York, Plan. Good master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same. Law. And so will I. Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say, This quarrel will drink blood another day. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The same. A Room in the Tower. Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair by two Keepers. Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent: come: We sent unto the Temple, to his chamber; And answer was return'd that he will come. Mor. Enough; mysoul shall then be satisfied.Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign (Before whose glory I was great in arms), This loathsome sequestration have I had; And even since then hath Richard been obscur'd, Deprived of honour and inheritance: But now, the arbitrator of despairs, Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence; I would, his troubles likewise were expir'd, That so he might recover what was lost, Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET. come. 1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now is [come? Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend? Is he Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. Mor. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: [neck, O, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, Why didst thou say of late thou wert despis'd? Plan. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm; And, in that case, I'll tell thee my disease. This day, in argument upon a case, Some words there grew'twixt Somerset and me: Among which terms he us'd his lavish tongue, And did upbraid me with my father's death; Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, And for alliance' sake,-declare the cause me, And hath detain'd me, all my flow'ring youth, Of Edward king, the third of that descent: SCENE I. The same. The Parliament House. Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated With written pamphlets studiously devis'd, Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place com From Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son Marrying my sister, that thy mother was, last. Mor. True; and thou seest, that I no issue have; And that my fainting words do warrant death: Thou art my heir; the rest, I wish thee gather: But yet be wary in thy studious care. Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politick; Might but redeem the passage of your age! Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill. And so farewell: and fair be all thy hopes! Plan. And peace, no war, befall thy parting In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, [soul! And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; mands my patience, Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd me. Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: [safe Win. Gloster, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouch- As good? Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest? Win. And am I not a prelate of the church? Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, And useth it to patronage his theft. Win. Unreverent Gloster! Glo. Thou art reverent Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. Win. This Rome shall remedy. War. 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. [near. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue; 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. [Aside. K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal; I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown, That two such noble peers as ye should jar! Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell, Civil dissension is a viperous worm, That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.— A noise within; Down with the tawny coats! What tumult's this? War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop's men. [A noise again; Stones! Stones! Enter the MAYOR OF LONDON, attended. May. O, my good lords,-and virtuous HenPity the city of London, pity us! [ry, The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; And, banding themselves in contrary parts, Do pelt so fast at one another's pate, That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: Our windows are broke down in every street. And we, for fear, compell'd to shut our shops. Eater, skirmishing, the Retainers of Gloster and Winchester, with bloody pates. K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, [peace. To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. [broil, 3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and for your royal birth, My sighs and tears, and will not once relent? Except you mean, with obstinate repulse, stoop; Or, I would see his heart out, ere the priest War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke That malice was a great and grievous sin; And will not you maintain the thing you teach, But prove a chief offender in the same? War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly gird. For shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give. Win. So help me God, as I intend it not! [Aside. K. Hen. O, loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, How joyfui am I made by this contract !— Away, my masters! trouble us no more; But join in friendship, as your lords have done 1 Serv. Content; I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv. And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physick the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, dr. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which, in the right of Richard Plantagenet, We do exhibit to your majesty. [sweet prince, Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick;-for, And if your grace mark every circumstance, You have great reason to do Richard right: Especially, for those occasions At Eltham-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, That Richard be restored to his blood. [force: War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience, [Skirmish again. soul! Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold And rise created princely duke of York. [fall! Plan. And so thrive Richard, as thy foes may Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York! [Aside. Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, To cross the seas, and to be crown'd in France: The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his loyal friends; As it disanimates his enemies. [Henry goes; K. Hen. When Gloster says the word, King For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Glo. Your ships already are in readiness. [Exeunt all but EXETER. Exe. Ay, we may march in England, or in Not seeing what is likely to ensue: [France. This late dissension, grown betwixt the peers, Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love, And will at last break out into a flame: As fester'd members rot but by degrees, Till bones, and flesh, and sinews, fall away, So will this base and envious discord breed. And now I fear that fatal prophecy, Which, in the time of Henry, nam'd the fifth, Was in the mouth of every sucking babe,That Henry, born at Monmouth, should win all; And Henry, born at Windsor, should lose all: Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish His days may finish ere that hapless time. [Exit. SCENE II. France. Before Rouen. Enter LA PUCELLE disguised, and Soldiers dressed like Countrymen, with Sacks upon their Backs. Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach: [Knocks, Guard. [Within.] Qui est la? Puc. Faisans, pauvres gens de France: Poor market-folks, that come to sell their corn. Guard. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung. [Opens the Gate. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [PUCELLE, &c. enter the City. Enter CHARLES, Bastard of Orleans, ALENCON, and Forces. Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem! And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen. Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practiNow she is there, how will she specify [sants; Where is the best and safest passage in? Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder [is,Which once discern'd, shows that her meaning No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd. Enter LA PUCELLE on a Battlement; holding out a Torch burning. tower; Pac. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen: But burning fatal to the Talbotites. [friend, Bast. See, noble Charles! the beacon of our The burning torch in yonder turret stands. Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, [ends; A prophet to the fall of all our foes! And then do execution on the watch. [They enter. Alarums. Enter TALBOT, and certain English. Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, If Talbot but survive thy treachery.- Alarum: Excursions. Enter from the Town BEDFORD, brought in sick in a Chair, with TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the English Forces. Then, ter on the Wails, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, Bastard, ALENCON, and Others. Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread? I think, the duke of Burgundy will fast, Before he'll buy again at such a rate: 'Twas full of darnel; Do you like the taste? Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless cour tesan; that time. break a lance, I trust, ere long, to choke thee with mine own, If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.- Tal. Signior, hang!-base muleteers of France! Like peasant footboys do they keep the walls, And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. Puc. Captains, away: let's get us from the For Talbot means no goodness, by his looks.-walls; That we are here. God be wi' you, my lord! we came, sir, but to [tell you [Exeunt LA PUCELLE, &c. from the Walls. Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house, Either to get the town again, or die: [France), (Prick'd on by publick wrongs, sustain'd in 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. [vows. Bur. My vows are equal partners with thy Tal. But, ere we go, regard this dying prince, The valiant duke of Bedford:-Come, my lord, We will bestow you in some better place, Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me: Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!— Then be it so:-Heavens keep old Bedford safe! And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, [Exeunt BURGUNDY, TALBOT, and Forces, leaving BEDFORD, and Others. Alarums: 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 TalFast. Ay, [bot? 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, ALENCON, CHARLES, &c., and exeunt flying. Bed. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please; For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. What is the trust of strength of foolish man? 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 PuI think, her old familiar is asleep: [celle now? Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks? What, all a-mort? Rouen hangs her head for grief, Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget Puc. Dismay not, princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered: Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, 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, Char. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, [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; Summon a parley, we will talk with him. Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind. [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 countryman. [marching hence. Bur. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am Char. Speak, Pucelle; and enchant him with thy words. [France! Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of 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 Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears, on thee, Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. |