Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I take it

Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend Clytus

Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd any of his friends

Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name

Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne at Monmouth

Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.

Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.

King. I was not angry since I came to France, Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald, Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill: If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe, Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight. If they'l do neither, we will come to them, And make them sker away, as swift as stones Enforced from the old Assyrian slings: Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue, And not a man of them that we shall take, Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so. Enter Montioy.

Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege Glou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be

King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowst thou not, That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome? Com'st thou againe for ransome? Her. No great King: I come to thee for charitable License, That we may wander ore this bloody field, To booke our dead, and then to bury them, To sort our Nobles from our common men. For many of our Princes (woe the while) Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood: So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbes In blood of Princes, and with wounded steeds Fret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters, Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King, To view the field in safety, and dispose Of their dead bodies

Kin. I tell thee truly Herald, I know not if the day be ours or no, For yet a many of your horsemen peere, And gallop ore the field

Her. The day is yours

Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it: What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by

Her. They call it Agincourt

King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt, Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus

Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought a most praue pattle here in France

Kin. They did Fluellen

Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon S[aint]. Tauies day

King. I weare it for a memorable honor: For I am Welch you know good Countriman

Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your Maiesties Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that: God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases his Grace, and his Maiesty too

Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen

Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God so long as your Maiesty is an honest man

King. Good keepe me so. Enter Williams.

Our Heralds go with him, Bring me iust notice of the numbers dead On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither

Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King

Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thy Cappe? Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of one that I should fight withall, if he be aliue

Kin. An Englishman? Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil strike it out soundly

Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this souldier keepe his oath

Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't please your Maiesty in my conscience

King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of great sort quite from the answer of his degree

Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow

Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue

King. Who seru'st thou vnder? Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege

Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge and literatured in the Warres

King. Call him hither to me, Souldier

Will. I will my Liege. Enter.

King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou do'st me loue

Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see it once, and please God of his grace that I might see

King. Know'st thou Gower? Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you

King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to my Tent

Flu. I will fetch him. Enter.

King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster, Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles. The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour, May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare. It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick: If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudge By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word; Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it: For I doe know Fluellen valiant, And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder, And quickly will returne an iniurie. Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them. Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.

Exeunt.

Enter Gower and Williams.

Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine. Enter Fluellen.

Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech you now, come apace to the King: there is more good toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to dreame of

Will. Sir, know you this Gloue? Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue

Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.

Strikes him.

Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuersall World, or in France, or in England

Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine

Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne? Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treason his payment into plowes, I warrant you

Will. I am no Traytor

Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his Maiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke Alansons. Enter Warwick and Gloucester.

Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter? Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his Maiestie. Enter King and Exeter.

King. How now, what's the matter? Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor, that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue which your Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson

Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as good as my word

Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience now

King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier; Looke, heere is the fellow of it: 'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike, And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes

Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answere for it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World

King. How canst thou make me satisfaction? Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuer came any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie

King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse

Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highnesse pardon me

King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes, And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow, And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe, Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes: And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him

Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I warrant you it is the better for you

Will. I will none of your Money

Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue you to mend your shooes: come, wherefore should you be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: 'tis a good silling I warrant you, or I will change it. Enter Herauld.

King. Now Herauld, are the dead numbred? Herald. Heere is the number of the slaught'red French

King. What Prisoners of good sort are taken, Vnckle? Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King, Iohn Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchiquald: Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires, Full fifteene hundred, besides common men

King. This Note doth tell me of ten thousand French That in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number, And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye dead One hundred twentie six: added to these, Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen, Eight thousand and foure hundred: of the which, Fiue hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights. So that in these ten thousand they haue lost, There are but sixteene hundred Mercenaries: The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires, And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie. The Names of those their Nobles that lye dead: Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France, Iaques of Chatilion, Admirall of France, The Master of the Crosse-bowes, Lord Rambures, Great Master of France, the braue Sir Guichard Dolphin, Iohn Duke of Alanson, Anthonie Duke of Brabant, The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie, And Edward Duke of Barr: of lustie Earles, Grandpree and Roussie, Fauconbridge and Foyes, Beaumont and Marle, Vandemont and Lestrale. Here was a Royall fellowship of death. Where is the number of our English dead? Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke, Sir Richard Ketly, Dauy Gam Esquire; None else of name: and of all other men, But fiue and twentie. O God, thy Arme was heere: And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone, Ascribe we all: when, without stratagem, But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile, Was euer knowne so great and little losse? On one part and on th' other, take it God, For it is none but thine

Exet. 'Tis wonderfull

King. Come, goe we in procession to the Village: And be it death proclaymed through our Hoast, To boast of this, or take that prayse from God, Which is his onely

Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maiestie, to tell how many is kill'd? King. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowledgement, That God fought for vs

Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did vs great good

King. Doe we all holy Rights: Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum, The dead with charitie enclos'd in Clay: And then to Callice, and to England then, Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Chorus.

Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story, That I may prompt them: and of such as haue, I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, Which cannot in their huge and proper life, Be here presented. Now we beare the King Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene, Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts, Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach Pales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes, Whose shouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea, Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King, Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land, And solemnly see him set on to London. So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen now You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath: Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borne His bruised Helmet, and his bended Sword Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it, Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride; Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent, Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold, In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought, How London doth powre out her Citizens, The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort, Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome, With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles, Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Csar in: As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood, Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse, As in good time he may, from Ireland comming, Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword; How many would the peacefull Citie quit, To welcome him? much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry. Now in London place him. As yet the lamentation of the French Inuites the King of Englands stay at home: The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France, To order peace betweene them: and omit All the occurrences, what euer chanc't, Till Harryes backe returne againe to France: There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'd The interim, by remembring you 'tis past. Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance, After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France. Enter.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your Leeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past

Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World, know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke: it was in a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. Enter Pistoll.

Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock

Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks. God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsie Knaue, God plesse you

Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, base Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence; I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke

Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate, looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you to eate it

Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats

Flu. There is one Goat for you.

Strikes him.

Will you be so good, scauld Knaue, as eate it? Pist. Base Troian, thou shalt dye

Flu. You say very true, scauld Knaue, when Gods will is: I will desire you to liue in the meane time, and eate your Victuals: come, there is sawce for it. You call'd me yesterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke

Gour. Enough Captaine, you haue astonisht him

Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke, or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxecombe

Pist. Must I bite

Flu. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of question too, and ambiguities

Pist. By this Leeke, I will most horribly reuenge I eate and eate I sweare

Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauce to your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sweare by

Pist. Quiet thy Cudgell, thou dost see I eate

Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your broken Coxcombe; when you take occasions to see Leekes heereafter, I pray you mocke at 'em, that is all

Pist. Good

Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat to heale your pate

Pist. Me a groat? Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haue another Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate

Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of reuenge

Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels, you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels: God bu'y you, and keepe you, & heale your pate.

Exit

Pist. All hell shall stirre for this

Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue, will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vppon an honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Trophee of predeceased valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds any of your words. I haue seene you gleeking & galling at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speake English in the natiue garb, he could not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it otherwise, and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach you a good English condition, fare ye well.

Exit

Pist. Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now? Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i'th Spittle of a malady of France, and there my rendeuous is quite cut off: Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and there Ile steale: And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres, And swore I got them in the Gallia warres. Enter.

Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke, and other Lords. At another, Queene Isabel, the King, the Duke of Bourgougne, and other French.

King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met; Vnto our brother France, and to our Sister Health and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishes To our most faire and Princely Cosine Katherine: And as a branch and member of this Royalty, By whom this great assembly is contriu'd, We do salute you Duke of Burgogne, And Princes French and Peeres health to you all

Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England, fairely met, So are you Princes (English) euery one

Quee. So happy be the Issue brother Ireland Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting, As we are now glad to behold your eyes, Your eyes which hitherto haue borne In them against the French that met them in their bent, The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes: The venome of such Lookes we fairely hope Haue lost their qualitie, and that this day Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue

Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare

Quee. You English Princes all, I doe salute you

Burg. My dutie to you both, on equall loue. Great Kings of France and England: that I haue labour'd With all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuors, To bring your most Imperiall Maiesties Vnto this Barre, and Royall enterview; Your Mightinesse on both parts best can witnesse. Since then my Office hath so farre preuayl'd, That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye, You haue congreeted: let it not disgrace me, If I demand before this Royall view, What Rub, or what Impediment there is, Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace, Deare Nourse of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births, Should not in this best Garden of the World, Our fertile France, put vp her louely Visage? Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas'd, And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes, Corrupting in it owne fertilitie. Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart, Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd, Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre, Put forth disorder'd Twigs: her fallow Leas, The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary, Doth root vpon; while that the Culter rusts, That should deracinate such Sauagery: The euen Meade, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and greene Clouer, Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke; Conceiues by idlenesse, and nothing teemes, But hatefull Docks, rough Thistles, Keksyes, Burres, Loosing both beautie and vtilitie; And all our Vineyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges, Defectiue in their natures, grow to wildnesse. Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children, Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time, The Sciences that should become our Countrey; But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will, That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood, To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus'd Attyre, And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall. Which to reduce into our former fauour, You are assembled: and my speech entreats, That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace Should not expell these inconueniences, And blesse vs with her former qualities

Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace, Whose want giues growth to th' imperfections Which you haue cited; you must buy that Peace With full accord to all our iust demands, Whose Tenures and particular effects You haue enschedul'd briefely in your hands

Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as yet There is no Answer made

Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before so vrg'd, Lyes in his Answer

France. I haue but with a curselarie eye O're-glanc't the Articles: Pleaseth your Grace To appoint some of your Councell presently To sit with vs once more, with better heed To re-suruey them; we will suddenly Passe our accept and peremptorie Answer

England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter, And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Gloucester, Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King, And take with you free power, to ratifie, Augment, or alter, as your Wisdomes best Shall see aduantageable for our Dignitie, Any thing in or out of our Demands, And wee'le consigne thereto. Will you, faire Sister, Goe with the Princes, or stay here with vs? Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them: Happily a Womans Voyce may doe some good, When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be stood on

England. Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs, She is our capitall Demand, compris'd Within the fore-ranke of our Articles

Quee. She hath good leaue.

Exeunt. omnes.

Manet King and Katherine

King. Faire Katherine, and most faire, Will you vouchsafe to teach a Souldier tearmes, Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare, And pleade his Loue-suit to her gentle heart

Kath. Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speake your England

King. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you confesse it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you like me, Kate? Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me

King. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an Angell

Kath. Que dit il que Ie suis semblable a les Anges? Lady. Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit il

King. I said so, deare Katherine, and I must not blush to affirme it

Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein de tromperies

King. What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits? Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de Princesse

King. The Princesse is the better English-woman: yfaith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderstanding, I am glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou could'st, thou would'st finde me such a plaine King, that thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther, then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine: how say you, Lady? Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well

King. Marry, if you would put me to Verses, or to Dance for your sake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one I haue neither words nor measure; and for the other, I haue no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape-frogge, or by vawting into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe; vnder the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my Loue, or bound my Horse for her fauours, I could lay on like a Butcher, and sit like a Iack an Apes, neuer off. But before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaspe out my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in protestation; onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vse till vrg'd, nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canst loue a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-burning? that neuer lookes in his Glasse, for loue of any thing he sees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I speake to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canst loue me for this, take me? if not? to say to thee that I shall dye, is true; but for thy loue, by the L[ord]. No: yet I loue thee too. And while thou liu'st, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and vncoyned Constancie, for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to wooe in other places: for these fellowes of infinit tongue, that can ryme themselues into Ladyes fauours, they doe alwayes reason themselues out againe. What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King. And what say'st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire, and fairely, I pray thee

Kath. Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of Fraunce? King. No, it is not possible you should loue the Enemie of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine: and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours is France, and you are mine

Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat

King. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am sure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife about her Husbands Necke, hardly to be shooke off; Ie quand sur le possession de Fraunce, & quand vous aues le possession de moy. (Let mee see, what then? Saint Dennis bee my speede) Donc vostre est Fraunce, & vous estes mienne. It is as easie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me

Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, le Francois ques vous parleis, il & melieus que l' Anglois le quel Ie parle

King. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of my Tongue, and I thine, most truely falsely, must needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, doo'st thou vnderstand thus much English? Canst thou loue mee? Kath. I cannot tell

King. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile aske them. Come, I know thou louest me: and at night, when you come into your Closet, you'le question this Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her disprayse those parts in me, that you loue with your heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather gentle Princesse, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou beest mine, Kate, as I haue a sauing Faith within me tells me thou shalt; I get thee with skambling, and thou must therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder: Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English, that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by the Beard. Shall wee not? what say'st thou, my faire Flower-de-Luce

Kate. I doe not know dat

King. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: doe but now promise Kate, you will endeauour for your French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie, take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How answer you. La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trescher & deuin deesse

Kath. Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce

King. Now fye vpon my false French: by mine Honor in true English, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare not sweare thou louest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me, that thou doo'st; notwithstanding the poore and vntempering effect of my Visage. Now beshrew my Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more spoyle vpon my Face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt weare me, if thou weare me, better and better: and therefore tell me, most faire Katherine, will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blushes, auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine, breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou haue me? Kath. Dat is as it shall please de Roy mon pere

King. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate

Kath. Den it sall also content me

King. Vpon that I kisse your Hand, and I call you my Queene

Kath. Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le main d' une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse moy. Ie vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur

King. Then I will kisse your Lippes, Kate

Kath. Les Dames & Damoisels pour estre baisee deuant leur nopcese il net pas le costume de Fraunce

King. Madame, my Interpreter, what sayes shee? Lady. Dat it is not be de fashon pour le Ladies of Fraunce; I cannot tell wat is buisse en Anglish

King. To kisse

Lady. Your Maiestee entendre bettre que moy

King. It is not a fashion for the Maids in Fraunce to kisse before they are marryed, would she say? Lady. Ouy verayment

King. O Kate, nice Customes cursie to great Kings. Deare Kate, you and I cannot bee confin'd within the weake Lyst of a Countreyes fashion: wee are the makers of Manners, Kate; and the libertie that followes our Places, stoppes the mouth of all finde-faults, as I will doe yours, for vpholding the nice fashion of your Countrey, in denying me a Kisse: therefore patiently, and yeelding. You haue Witch-craft in your Lippes, Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of them, then in the Tongues of the French Councell; and they should sooner perswade Harry of England, then a generall Petition of Monarchs. Heere comes your Father. Enter the French Power, and the English Lords.

Burg. God saue your Maiestie, my Royall Cousin, teach you our Princesse English? King. I would haue her learne, my faire Cousin, how perfectly I loue her, and that is good English

Burg. Is shee not apt? King. Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condition is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyce nor the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot so coniure vp the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true likenesse

Burg. Pardon the franknesse of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would coniure in her, you must make a Circle: if coniure vp Loue in her in his true likenesse, hee must appeare naked, and blinde. Can you blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd ouer with the Virgin Crimson of Modestie, if shee deny the apparance of a naked blinde Boy in her naked seeing selfe? It were (my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to consigne to

King. Yet they doe winke and yeeld, as Loue is blind and enforces

Burg. They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they see not what they doe

King. Then good my Lord, teach your Cousin to consent winking

Burg. I will winke on her to consent, my Lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for Maides well Summer'd, and warme kept, are like Flyes at Bartholomew-tyde, blinde, though they haue their eyes, and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on

King. This Morall tyes me ouer to Time, and a hot Summer; and so I shall catch the Flye, your Cousin, in the latter end, and she must be blinde to

Burg. As Loue is my Lord, before it loues

King. It is so: and you may, some of you, thanke Loue for my blindnesse, who cannot see many a faire French Citie for one faire French Maid that stands in my way

French King. Yes my Lord, you see them perspectiuely: the Cities turn'd into a Maid; for they are all gyrdled with Maiden Walls, that Warre hath entred

England. Shall Kate be my Wife? France. So please you

England. I am content, so the Maiden Cities you talke of, may wait on her: so the Maid that stood in the way for my Wish, shall shew me the way to my Will

France. Wee haue consented to all tearmes of reason

England. Is't so, my Lords of England? West. The King hath graunted euery Article: His Daughter first; and in sequele, all, According to their firme proposed natures

Exet. Onely he hath not yet subscribed this: Where your Maiestie demands, That the King of France hauing any occasion to write for matter of Graunt, shall name your Highnesse in this forme, and with this addition, in French: Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre Heretere de Fraunce: and thus in Latine; Praeclarissimus Filius noster Henricus Rex Angli & Heres Franciae

France. Nor this I haue not Brother so deny'd, But your request shall make me let it passe

England. I pray you then, in loue and deare allyance, Let that one Article ranke with the rest, And thereupon giue me your Daughter

France. Take her faire Sonne, and from her blood rayse vp Issue to me, that the contending Kingdomes Of France and England, whose very shoares looke pale, With enuy of each others happinesse, May cease their hatred; and this deare Coniunction Plant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accord In their sweet Bosomes: that neuer Warre aduance His bleeding Sword 'twixt England and faire France

Lords. Amen

King. Now welcome Kate: and beare me witnesse all, That here I kisse her as my Soueraigne Queene.

Flourish.

Quee. God, the best maker of all Marriages, Combine your hearts in one, your Realmes in one: As Man and Wife being two, are one in loue, So be there 'twixt your Kingdomes such a Spousall, That neuer may ill Office, or fell Iealousie, Which troubles oft the Bed of blessed Marriage, Thrust in betweene the Paction of these Kingdomes, To make diuorce of their incorporate League: That English may as French, French Englishmen, Receiue each other. God speake this Amen

All. Amen

King. Prepare we for our Marriage: on which day, My Lord of Burgundy wee'le take your Oath And all the Peeres, for suretie of our Leagues. Then shall I sweare to Kate, and you to me, And may our Oathes well kept and prosp'rous be.

Senet. Exeunt.

Enter Chorus.

Thus farre with rough, and all-vnable Pen, Our bending Author hath pursu'd the Story, In little roome confining mightie men, Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. Small time: but in that small, most greatly liued This Starre of England. Fortune made his Sword; By which, the Worlds best Garden he atchieued: And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord. Henry the Sixt, in Infant Bands crown'd King Of France and England, did this King succeed: Whose State so many had the managing, That they lost France, and made his England bleed: Which oft our Stage hath showne; and for their sake, In your faire minds let this acceptance take.

FINIS. The Life of Henry the Fift.

The first Part of Henry the Sixt

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Dead March.

Enter the Funerall of King Henry the Fift, attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloster, Protector; the Duke of Exeter Warwicke, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset.

Bedford. Hung be y heauens with black, yield day to night; Comets importing change of Times and States, Brandish your crystall Tresses in the Skie, And with them scourge the bad reuolting Stars, That haue consented vnto Henries death: King Henry the Fift, too famous to liue long, England ne're lost a King of so much worth

Glost. England ne're had a King vntill his time: Vertue he had, deseruing to command, His brandisht Sword did blinde men with his beames, His Armes spred wider then a Dragons Wings: His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathfull fire, More dazled and droue back his Enemies, Then mid-day Sunne, fierce bent against their faces. What should I say? his Deeds exceed all speech: He ne're lift vp his Hand, but conquered

Exe. We mourne in black, why mourn we not in blood? Henry is dead, and neuer shall reuiue: Vpon a Woodden Coffin we attend; And Deaths dishonourable Victorie, We with our stately presence glorifie, Like Captiues bound to a Triumphant Carre. What? shall we curse the Planets of Mishap, That plotted thus our Glories ouerthrow? Or shall we thinke the subtile-witted French, Coniurers and Sorcerers, that afraid of him, By Magick Verses haue contriu'd his end

Winch. He was a King, blest of the King of Kings. Vnto the French, the dreadfull Iudgement-Day So dreadfull will not be, as was his sight. The Battailes of the Lord of Hosts he fought: The Churches Prayers made him so prosperous

Glost. The Church? where is it? Had not Church-men pray'd, His thred of Life had not so soone decay'd. None doe you like, but an effeminate Prince, Whom like a Schoole-boy you may ouer-awe

Winch. Gloster, what ere we like, thou art Protector, And lookest to command the Prince and Realme. Thy Wife is prowd, she holdeth thee in awe, More then God or Religious Church-men may

Glost. Name not Religion, for thou lou'st the Flesh, And ne're throughout the yeere to Church thou go'st, Except it be to pray against thy foes

Bed. Cease, cease these Iarres, & rest your minds in peace: Let's to the Altar: Heralds wayt on vs; In stead of Gold, wee'le offer vp our Armes, Since Armes auayle not, now that Henry's dead, Posteritie await for wretched yeeres, When at their Mothers moistned eyes, Babes shall suck, Our Ile be made a Nourish of salt Teares, And none but Women left to wayle the dead. Henry the Fift, thy Ghost I inuocate: Prosper this Realme, keepe it from Ciuill Broyles, Combat with aduerse Planets in the Heauens; A farre more glorious Starre thy Soule will make, Then Iulius Csar, or bright- Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My honourable Lords, health to you all: Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, Of losse, of slaughter, and discomfiture: Guyen, Champaigne, Rheimes, Orleance, Paris Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost

Bedf. What say'st thou man, before dead Henry's Coarse? Speake softly, or the losse of those great Townes Will make him burst his Lead, and rise from death

Glost. Is Paris lost? is Roan yeelded vp? If Henry were recall'd to life againe, These news would cause him once more yeeld the Ghost

Exe. How were they lost? what trecherie was vs'd? Mess. No trecherie, but want of Men and Money. Amongst the Souldiers this is muttered, That here you maintaine seuerall Factions: And whil'st a Field should be dispatcht and fought, You are disputing of your Generals. One would haue lingring Warres, with little cost; Another would flye swift, but wanteth Wings: A third thinkes, without expence at all, By guilefull faire words, Peace may be obtayn'd. Awake, awake, English Nobilitie, Let not slouth dimme your Honors, new begot; Cropt are the Flower-de-Luces in your Armes Of Englands Coat, one halfe is cut away

Exe. Were our Teares wanting to this Funerall, These Tidings would call forth her flowing Tides

Bedf. Me they concerne, Regent I am of France: Giue me my steeled Coat, Ile fight for France. Away with these disgracefull wayling Robes; Wounds will I lend the French, in stead of Eyes, To weepe their intermissiue Miseries. Enter to them another Messenger.

Mess. Lords view these Letters, full of bad mischance. France is reuolted from the English quite, Except some petty Townes, of no import. The Dolphin Charles is crowned King in Rheimes: The Bastard of Orleance with him is ioyn'd: Reynold, Duke of Aniou, doth take his part, The Duke of Alanson flyeth to his side. Enter.

Exe. The Dolphin crown'd King? all flye to him? O whither shall we flye from this reproach? Glost. We will not flye, but to our enemies throats. Bedford, if thou be slacke, Ile fight it out

Bed. Gloster, why doubtst thou of my forwardnesse? An Army haue I muster'd in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is ouer-run. Enter another Messenger.

Mes. My gracious Lords, to adde to your laments, Wherewith you now bedew King Henries hearse, I must informe you of a dismall fight, Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot, and the French

Win. What? wherein Talbot ouercame, is't so? 3.Mes. O no: wherein Lord Talbot was o'rethrown: The circumstance Ile tell you more at large. The tenth of August last, this dreadfull Lord, Retyring from the Siege of Orleance, Hauing full scarce six thousand in his troupe, By three and twentie thousand of the French Was round incompassed, and set vpon: No leysure had he to enranke his men. He wanted Pikes to set before his Archers: In stead whereof, sharpe Stakes pluckt out of Hedges They pitched in the ground confusedly, To keepe the Horsemen off, from breaking in. More then three houres the fight continued: Where valiant Talbot, aboue humane thought, Enacted wonders with his Sword and Lance. Hundreds he sent to Hell, and none durst stand him: Here, there, and euery where enrag'd, he slew. The French exclaym'd, the Deuill was in Armes, All the whole Army stood agaz'd on him. His Souldiers spying his vndaunted Spirit, A Talbot, a Talbot, cry'd out amaine, And rusht into the Bowels of the Battaile. Here had the Conquest fully been seal'd vp, If Sir Iohn Falstaffe had not play'd the Coward. He being in the Vauward, plac't behinde, With purpose to relieue and follow them, Cowardly fled, not hauing struck one stroake. Hence grew the generall wrack and massacre: Enclosed were they with their Enemies. A base Wallon, to win the Dolphins grace, Thrust Talbot with a Speare into the Back, Whom all France, with their chiefe assembled strength, Durst not presume to looke once in the face

Bedf. Is Talbot slaine then? I will slay my selfe, For liuing idly here, in pompe and ease, Whil'st such a worthy Leader, wanting ayd, Vnto his dastard foe-men is betray'd

3.Mess. O no, he liues, but is tooke Prisoner, And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford: Most of the rest slaughter'd, or tooke likewise

Bedf. His Ransome there is none but I shall pay. Ile hale the Dolphin headlong from his Throne, His Crowne shall be the Ransome of my friend: Foure of their Lords Ile change for one of ours. Farwell my Masters, to my Taske will I, Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, To keepe our great Saint Georges Feast withall. Ten thousand Souldiers with me I will take, Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake

3.Mess. So you had need, for Orleance is besieg'd, The English Army is growne weake and faint: The Earle of Salisbury craueth supply, And hardly keepes his men from mutinie, Since they so few, watch such a multitude

Exe. Remember Lords your Oathes to Henry sworne: Eyther to quell the Dolphin vtterly, Or bring him in obedience to your yoake

Bedf. I doe remember it, and here take my leaue, To goe about my preparation.

Exit Bedford.

Glost. Ile to the Tower with all the hast I can, To view th' Artillerie and Munition, And then I will proclayme young Henry King.

Exit Gloster.

Exe. To Eltam will I, where the young King is, Being ordayn'd his speciall Gouernor, And for his safetie there Ile best deuise. Enter.

Winch. Each hath his Place and Function to attend: I am left out; for me nothing remaines: But long I will not be Iack out of Office. The King from Eltam I intend to send, And sit at chiefest Sterne of publique Weale. Enter.

Sound a Flourish.

Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir, marching with Drum and Souldiers.

Charles. Mars his true mouing, euen as in the Heauens, So in the Earth, to this day is not knowne. Late did he shine vpon the English side: Now we are Victors, vpon vs he smiles. What Townes of any moment, but we haue? At pleasure here we lye, neere Orleance: Otherwhiles, the famisht English, like pale Ghosts, Faintly besiege vs one houre in a moneth

Alan. They want their Porredge, & their fat Bul Beeues: Eyther they must be dyeted like Mules, And haue their Prouender ty'd to their mouthes, Or pitteous they will looke, like drowned Mice

Reigneir. Let's rayse the Siege: why liue we idly here? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to feare: Remayneth none but mad-brayn'd Salisbury, And he may well in fretting spend his gall, Nor men nor Money hath he to make Warre

Charles. Sound, sound Alarum, we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorne French: Him I forgiue my death, that killeth me, When he sees me goe back one foot, or flye.

Exeunt.

Here Alarum, they are beaten back by the English, with great losse.

Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir.

Charles. Who euer saw the like? what men haue I? Dogges, Cowards, Dastards: I would ne're haue fled, But that they left me 'midst my Enemies

Reigneir. Salisbury is a desperate Homicide, He fighteth as one weary of his life: The other Lords, like Lyons wanting foode, Doe rush vpon vs as their hungry prey

Alanson. Froysard, a Countreyman of ours, records, England all Oliuers and Rowlands breed, During the time Edward the third did raigne: More truly now may this be verified; For none but Samsons and Goliasses It sendeth forth to skirmish: one to tenne? Leane raw-bon'd Rascals, who would e'er suppose, They had such courage and audacitie? Charles. Let's leaue this Towne, For they are hayre-brayn'd Slaues, And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: Of old I know them; rather with their Teeth The Walls they'le teare downe, then forsake the Siege

Reigneir. I thinke by some odde Gimmors or Deuice Their Armes are set, like Clocks, still to strike on; Else ne're could they hold out so as they doe: By my consent, wee'le euen let them alone

Alanson. Be it so. Enter the Bastard of Orleance.

Bastard. Where's the Prince Dolphin? I haue newes for him

Dolph. Bastard of Orleance, thrice welcome to vs

Bast. Me thinks your looks are sad, your chear appal'd. Hath the late ouerthrow wrought this offence? Be not dismay'd, for succour is at hand: A holy Maid hither with me I bring, Which by a Vision sent to her from Heauen, Ordayned is to rayse this tedious Siege, And driue the English forth the bounds of France: The spirit of deepe Prophecie she hath, Exceeding the nine Sibyls of old Rome: What's past, and what's to come, she can descry. Speake, shall I call her in? beleeue my words, For they are certaine, and vnfallible

Dolph. Goe call her in: but first, to try her skill, Reignier stand thou as Dolphin in my place; Question her prowdly, let thy Lookes be sterne, By this meanes shall we sound what skill she hath. Enter Ioane Puzel.

Reigneir. Faire Maid, is't thou wilt doe these wondrous feats? Puzel. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? Where is the Dolphin? Come, come from behinde, I know thee well, though neuer seene before. Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me; In priuate will I talke with thee apart: Stand back you Lords, and giue vs leaue a while

Reigneir. She takes vpon her brauely at first dash

Puzel. Dolphin, I am by birth a Shepheards Daughter, My wit vntrayn'd in any kind of Art: Heauen and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd To shine on my contemptible estate. Loe, whilest I wayted on my tender Lambes, And to Sunnes parching heat display'd my cheekes, Gods Mother deigned to appeare to me, And in a Vision full of Maiestie, Will'd me to leaue my base Vocation, And free my Countrey from Calamitie: Her ayde she promis'd, and assur'd successe. In compleat Glory shee reueal'd her selfe: And whereas I was black and swart before, With those cleare Rayes, which shee infus'd on me, That beautie am I blest with, which you may see. Aske me what question thou canst possible, And I will answer vnpremeditated: My Courage trie by Combat, if thou dar'st, And thou shalt finde that I exceed my Sex. Resolue on this, thou shalt be fortunate, If thou receiue me for thy Warlike Mate

Dolph. Thou hast astonisht me with thy high termes: Onely this proofe Ile of thy Valour make, In single Combat thou shalt buckle with me; And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true, Otherwise I renounce all confidence

Puzel. I am prepar'd: here is my keene-edg'd Sword, Deckt with fine Flower-de-Luces on each side, The which at Touraine, in S[aint]. Katherines Church-yard, Out of a great deale of old Iron, I chose forth

Dolph. Then come a Gods name, I feare no woman

Puzel. And while I liue, Ile ne're flye from a man.

Here they fight, and Ioane de Puzel ouercomes.

Dolph. Stay, stay thy hands, thou art an Amazon, And fightest with the Sword of Debora

Puzel. Christs Mother helpes me, else I were too weake

Dolph. Who e're helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: Impatiently I burne with thy desire, My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd. Excellent Puzel, if thy name be so, Let me thy seruant, and not Soueraigne be, 'Tis the French Dolphin sueth to thee thus

Puzel. I must not yeeld to any rights of Loue, For my Profession's sacred from aboue: When I haue chased all thy Foes from hence, Then will I thinke vpon a recompence

Dolph. Meane time looke gracious on thy prostrate Thrall

Reigneir. My Lord me thinkes is very long in talke

Alans. Doubtlesse he shriues this woman to her smock, Else ne're could he so long protract his speech

Reigneir. Shall wee disturbe him, since hee keepes no meane? Alan. He may meane more then we poor men do know, These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues

Reigneir. My Lord, where are you? what deuise you on? Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no? Puzel. Why no, I say: distrustfull Recreants, Fight till the last gaspe: Ile be your guard

Dolph. What shee sayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight it out

Puzel. Assign'd am I to be the English Scourge. This night the Siege assuredly Ile rayse: Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halcyons dayes, Since I haue entred into these Warres. Glory is like a Circle in the Water, Which neuer ceaseth to enlarge it selfe, Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught. With Henries death, the English Circle ends, Dispersed are the glories it included: Now am I like that prowd insulting Ship, Which Csar and his fortune bare at once

Dolph. Was Mahomet inspired with a Doue? Thou with an Eagle art inspired then. Helen, the Mother of Great Constantine, Nor yet S[aint]. Philips daughters were like thee. Bright Starre of Venus, falne downe on the Earth, How may I reuerently worship thee enough? Alanson. Leaue off delayes, and let vs rayse the Siege

Reigneir. Woman, do what thou canst to saue our honors, Driue them from Orleance, and be immortaliz'd

Dolph. Presently wee'le try: come, let's away about it, No Prophet will I trust, if shee proue false.

Exeunt.

Enter Gloster, with his Seruing-men.

Glost. I am come to suruey the Tower this day; Since Henries death, I feare there is Conueyance: Where be these Warders, that they wait not here? Open the Gates, 'tis Gloster that calls

1.Warder. Who's there, that knocks so imperiously? Glost.1.Man. It is the Noble Duke of Gloster

2.Warder. Who ere he be, you may not be let in

1.Man. Villaines, answer you so the Lord Protector? 1.Warder. The Lord protect him, so we answer him, We doe no otherwise then wee are will'd

Glost. Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? There's none Protector of the Realme, but I: Breake vp the Gates, Ile be your warrantize; Shall I be flowted thus by dunghill Groomes?

Glosters men rush at the Tower Gates, and Wooduile the Lieutenant speakes within.

Wooduile. What noyse is this? what Traytors haue wee here? Glost. Lieutenant, is it you whose voyce I heare? Open the Gates, here's Gloster that would enter

Wooduile. Haue patience Noble Duke, I may not open, The Cardinall of Winchester forbids: From him I haue expresse commandement, That thou nor none of thine shall be let in

Glost. Faint-hearted Wooduile, prizest him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchester, that haughtie Prelate, Whom Henry our late Soueraigne ne're could brooke? Thou art no friend to God, or to the King: Open the Gates, or Ile shut thee out shortly

Seruingmen. Open the Gates vnto the Lord Protector, Or wee'le burst them open, if that you come not quickly. Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates, Winchester and his men in Tawney Coates.

Winchest. How now ambitious Vmpheir, what meanes this? Glost. Piel'd Priest, doo'st thou command me to be shut out? Winch. I doe, thou most vsurping Proditor, And not Protector of the King or Realme

Glost. Stand back thou manifest Conspirator, Thou that contriued'st to murther our dead Lord, Thou that giu'st Whores Indulgences to sinne, Ile canuas thee in thy broad Cardinalls Hat, If thou proceed in this thy insolence

Winch. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, To slay thy Brother Abel, if thou wilt

Glost. I will not slay thee, but Ile driue thee back: Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Childs bearing Cloth, Ile vse, to carry thee out of this place

Winch. Doe what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face

Glost. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face? Draw men, for all this priuiledged place, Blew Coats to Tawny Coats. Priest, beware your Beard, I meane to tugge it, and to cuffe you soundly. Vnder my feet I stampe thy Cardinalls Hat: In spight of Pope, or dignities of Church, Here by the Cheekes Ile drag thee vp and downe

Winch. Gloster, thou wilt answere this before the Pope

Glost. Winchester Goose, I cry, a Rope, a Rope. Now beat them hence, why doe you let them stay? Thee Ile chase hence, thou Wolfe in Sheepes array. Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite.

Here Glosters men beat out the Cardinalls men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Maior of London, and his Officers.

Maior. Fye Lords, that you being supreme Magistrates, Thus contumeliously should breake the Peace

Glost. Peace Maior, thou know'st little of my wrongs: Here's Beauford, that regards nor God nor King, Hath here distrayn'd the Tower to his vse

Winch. Here's Gloster, a Foe to Citizens, One that still motions Warre, and neuer Peace, O're-charging your free Purses with large Fines; That seekes to ouerthrow Religion, Because he is Protector of the Realme; And would haue Armour here out of the Tower, To Crowne himselfe King, and suppresse the Prince

Glost. I will not answer thee with words, but blowes.

Here they skirmish againe.

Maior. Naught rests for me, in this tumultuous strife, But to make open Proclamation. Come Officer, as lowd as e're thou canst, cry: All manner of men, assembled here in Armes this day, against Gods Peace and the Kings, wee charge and command you, in his Highnesse Name, to repayre to your seuerall dwelling places, and not to weare, handle, or vse any Sword, Weapon, or Dagger hence-forward, vpon paine of death

Glost. Cardinall, Ile be no breaker of the Law: But we shall meet, and breake our minds at large

Winch. Gloster, wee'le meet to thy cost, be sure: Thy heart-blood I will haue for this dayes worke

Maior. Ile call for Clubs, if you will not away: This Cardinall's more haughtie then the Deuill

Glost. Maior farewell: thou doo'st but what thou may'st

Winch. Abhominable Gloster, guard thy Head, For I intend to haue it ere long.

Exeunt.

Maior. See the Coast clear'd, and then we will depart. Good God, these Nobles should such stomacks beare, I my selfe fight not once in fortie yeere.

Exeunt.

Enter the Master Gunner of Orleance, and his Boy.

M.Gunner. Sirrha, thou know'st how Orleance is besieg'd, And how the English haue the Suburbs wonne

Boy. Father I know, and oft haue shot at them, How e're vnfortunate, I miss'd my ayme

M.Gunner. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd by me: Chiefe Master Gunner am I of this Towne, Something I must doe to procure me grace: The Princes espyals haue informed me, How the English, in the Suburbs close entrencht, Went through a secret Grate of Iron Barres, In yonder Tower, to ouer-peere the Citie, And thence discouer, how with most aduantage They may vex vs with Shot or with Assault. To intercept this inconuenience, A Peece of Ordnance 'gainst it I haue plac'd, And euen these three dayes haue I watcht, If I could see them. Now doe thou watch, For I can stay no longer. If thou spy'st any, runne and bring me word, And thou shalt finde me at the Gouernors. Enter.

Boy. Father, I warrant you, take you no care, Ile neuer trouble you, if I may spye them. Enter.

Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the Turrets, with others.

Salisb. Talbot, my life, my ioy, againe return'd? How wert thou handled, being Prisoner? Or by what meanes got's thou to be releas'd? Discourse I prethee on this Turrets top

Talbot. The Earle of Bedford had a Prisoner, Call'd the braue Lord Ponton de Santrayle, For him was I exchang'd, and ransom'd. But with a baser man of Armes by farre, Once in contempt they would haue barter'd me: Which I disdaining, scorn'd, and craued death, Rather then I would be so pil'd esteem'd: In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd. But O, the trecherous Falstaffe wounds my heart, Whom with my bare fists I would execute, If I now had him brought into my power

Salisb. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain'd

Tal. With scoffes and scornes, and contumelious taunts, In open Market-place produc't they me, To be a publique spectacle to all: Here, sayd they, is the Terror of the French, The Scar-Crow that affrights our Children so. Then broke I from the Officers that led me, And with my nayles digg'd stones out of the ground, To hurle at the beholders of my shame. My grisly countenance made others flye, None durst come neere, for feare of suddaine death. In Iron Walls they deem'd me not secure: So great feare of my Name 'mongst them were spread, That they suppos'd I could rend Barres of Steele, And spurne in pieces Posts of Adamant. Wherefore a guard of chosen Shot I had, That walkt about me euery Minute while: And if I did but stirre out of my Bed, Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. Enter the Boy with a Linstock.

Salisb. I grieue to heare what torments you endur'd, But we will be reueng'd sufficiently. Now it is Supper time in Orleance: Here, through this Grate, I count each one, And view the Frenchmen how they fortifie: Let vs looke in, the sight will much delight thee: Sir Thomas Gargraue, and Sir William Glansdale, Let me haue your expresse opinions, Where is best place to make our Batt'ry next? Gargraue. I thinke at the North Gate, for there stands Lords

Glansdale. And I heere, at the Bulwarke of the Bridge

Talb. For ought I see, this Citie must be famisht, Or with light Skirmishes enfeebled.

Here they shot, and Salisbury falls downe.

Salisb. O Lord haue mercy on vs, wretched sinners

Gargraue. O Lord haue mercy on me, wofull man

Talb. What chance is this, that suddenly hath crost vs? Speake Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speake: How far'st thou, Mirror of all Martiall men? One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheekes side struck off? Accursed Tower, accursed fatall Hand, That hath contriu'd this wofull Tragedie. In thirteene Battailes, Salisbury o'recame: Henry the Fift he first trayn'd to the Warres. Whil'st any Trumpe did sound, or Drum struck vp, His Sword did ne're leaue striking in the field. Yet liu'st thou Salisbury? though thy speech doth fayle, One Eye thou hast to looke to Heauen for grace. The Sunne with one Eye vieweth all the World. Heauen be thou gracious to none aliue, If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands. Beare hence his Body, I will helpe to bury it. Sir Thomas Gargraue, hast thou any life? Speake vnto Talbot, nay, looke vp to him. Salisbury cheare thy Spirit with this comfort, Thou shalt not dye whiles- He beckens with his hand, and smiles on me: As who should say, When I am dead and gone, Remember to auenge me on the French. Plantaginet I will, and like thee, Play on the Lute, beholding the Townes burne: Wretched shall France be onely in my Name.

Here an Alarum, and it Thunders and Lightens.

What stirre is this? what tumult's in the Heauens? Whence commeth this Alarum, and the noyse? Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My Lord, my Lord, the French haue gather'd head. The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Puzel ioyn'd, A holy Prophetesse, new risen vp, Is come with a great Power, to rayse the Siege.

Here Salisbury lifteth himselfe vp, and groanes.

Talb. Heare, heare, how dying Salisbury doth groane, It irkes his heart he cannot be reueng'd. Frenchmen, Ile be a Salisbury to you. Puzel or Pussel, Dolphin or Dog-fish, Your hearts Ile stampe out with my Horses heeles, And make a Quagmire of your mingled braines. Conuey me Salisbury into his Tent, And then wee'le try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.

Alarum. Exeunt.

Here an Alarum againe, and Talbot pursueth the Dolphin, and driueth him: Then enter Ioane de Puzel, driuing Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot.

Talb. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? Our English Troupes retyre, I cannot stay them, A Woman clad in Armour chaseth them. Enter Puzel.

Here, here shee comes. Ile haue a bowt with thee: Deuill, or Deuils Dam, Ile coniure thee: Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch, And straightway giue thy Soule to him thou seru'st

Puzel. Come, come, 'tis onely I that must disgrace thee.

Here they fight.

Talb. Heauens, can you suffer Hell so to preuayle? My brest Ile burst with straining of my courage, And from my shoulders crack my Armes asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded Strumpet.

They fight againe.

Puzel. Talbot farwell, thy houre is not yet come, I must goe Victuall Orleance forthwith:

A short Alarum: then enter the Towne with Souldiers.

O're-take me if thou canst, I scorne thy strength. Goe, goe, cheare vp thy hungry-starued men, Helpe Salisbury to make his Testament, This Day is ours, as many more shall be. Enter.

Talb. My thoughts are whirled like a Potters Wheele, I know not where I am, nor what I doe: A Witch by feare, not force, like Hannibal, Driues back our troupes, and conquers as she lists: So Bees with smoake, and Doues with noysome stench, Are from their Hyues and Houses driuen away. They call'd vs, for our fiercenesse, English Dogges, Now like to Whelpes, we crying runne away.

A short Alarum.

Hearke Countreymen, eyther renew the fight, Or teare the Lyons out of Englands Coat; Renounce your Soyle, giue Sheepe in Lyons stead: Sheepe run not halfe so trecherous from the Wolfe, Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard, As you flye from your oft-subdued slaues.

Alarum. Here another Skirmish.

It will not be, retyre into your Trenches: You all consented vnto Salisburies death, For none would strike a stroake in his reuenge. Puzel is entred into Orleance, In spight of vs, or ought that we could doe. O would I were to dye with Salisbury, The shame hereof, will make me hide my head.

Exit Talbot.

Alarum, Retreat, Flourish.

Enter on the Walls, Puzel, Dolphin, Reigneir, Alanson, and Souldiers.

Puzel. Aduance our wauing Colours on the Walls, Rescu'd is Orleance from the English. Thus Ioane de Puzel hath perform'd her word

Dolph. Diuinest Creature, Astrea's Daughter, How shall I honour thee for this successe? Thy promises are like Adonis Garden, That one day bloom'd, and fruitfull were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetesse, Recouer'd is the Towne of Orleance, More blessed hap did ne're befall our State

Reigneir. Why ring not out the Bells alowd, Throughout the Towne? Dolphin command the Citizens make Bonfires, And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the ioy that God hath giuen vs

Alans. All France will be repleat with mirth and ioy, When they shall heare how we haue play'd the men

Dolph. 'Tis Ioane, not we, by whom the day is wonne: For which, I will diuide my Crowne with her, And all the Priests and Fryers in my Realme, Shall in procession sing her endlesse prayse. A statelyer Pyramis to her Ile reare, Then Rhodophe's or Memphis euer was. In memorie of her, when she is dead, Her Ashes, in an Vrne more precious Then the rich-iewel'd Coffer of Darius, Transported, shall be at high Festiuals Before the Kings and Queenes of France. No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry, But Ioane de Puzel shall be France's Saint. Come in, and let vs Banquet Royally, After this Golden Day of Victorie.

Flourish. Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Sergeant of a Band, with two Sentinels.

Ser. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant: If any noyse or Souldier you perceiue Neere to the walles, by some apparant signe Let vs haue knowledge at the Court of Guard

Sent. Sergeant you shall. Thus are poore Seruitors (When others sleepe vpon their quiet beds) Constrain'd to watch in darknesse, raine, and cold. Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with scaling Ladders: Their Drummes beating a Dead March.

Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, By whose approach, the Regions of Artoys, Wallon, and Picardy, are friends to vs: This happy night, the Frenchmen are secure, Hauing all day carows'd and banquetted, Embrace we then this opportunitie, As fitting best to quittance their deceite, Contriu'd by Art, and balefull Sorcerie

Bed. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame, Dispairing of his owne armes fortitude, To ioyne with Witches, and the helpe of Hell

Bur. Traitors haue neuer other company. But what's that Puzell whom they tearme so pure? Tal. A Maid, they say

Bed. A Maid? And be so martiall? Bur. Pray God she proue not masculine ere long: If vnderneath the Standard of the French She carry Armour, as she hath begun

Tal. Well, let them practise and conuerse with spirits. God is our Fortresse, in whose conquering name Let vs resolue to scale their flinty bulwarkes

Bed. Ascend braue Talbot, we will follow thee

Tal. Not altogether: Better farre I guesse, That we do make our entrance seuerall wayes: That if it chance the one of vs do faile, The other yet may rise against their force

Bed. Agreed; Ile to yond corner

Bur. And I to this

Tal. And heere will Talbot mount, or make his graue. Now Salisbury, for thee and for the right Of English Henry, shall this night appeare How much in duty, I am bound to both

Sent. Arme, arme, the enemy doth make assault.

Cry, S[aint]. George, A Talbot.

The French leape ore the walles in their shirts. Enter seuerall wayes, Bastard, Alanson, Reignier, halfe ready, and halfe vnready.

Alan. How now my Lords? what all vnreadie so? Bast. Vnready? I and glad we scap'd so well

Reig. 'Twas time (I trow) to wake and leaue our beds, Hearing Alarums at our Chamber doores

Alan. Of all exploits since first I follow'd Armes, Nere heard I of a warlike enterprize More venturous, or desperate then this

Bast. I thinke this Talbot be a Fiend of Hell

Reig. If not of Hell, the Heauens sure fauour him

Alans. Here commeth Charles, I maruell how he sped? Enter Charles and Ioane.

Bast. Tut, holy Ioane was his defensiue Guard

Charl. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitfull Dame? Didst thou at first, to flatter vs withall, Make vs partakers of a little gayne, That now our losse might be ten times so much? Ioane. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? At all times will you haue my Power alike? Sleeping or waking, must I still preuayle, Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? Improuident Souldiors, had your Watch been good, This sudden Mischiefe neuer could haue falne

Charl. Duke of Alanson, this was your default, That being Captaine of the Watch to Night, Did looke no better to that weightie Charge

Alans. Had all your Quarters been as safely kept, As that whereof I had the gouernment, We had not beene thus shamefully surpriz'd

Bast. Mine was secure

Reig. And so was mine, my Lord

Charl. And for my selfe, most part of all this Night Within her Quarter, and mine owne Precinct, I was imploy'd in passing to and fro, About relieuing of the Centinels. Then how, or which way, should they first breake in? Ioane. Question (my Lords) no further of the case, How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place, But weakely guarded, where the breach was made: And now there rests no other shift but this, To gather our Souldiors, scatter'd and disperc't, And lay new Platformes to endammage them.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter a Souldier, crying, a Talbot, a Talbot: they flye, leauing their Clothes behind.

Sould. Ile be so bold to take what they haue left: The Cry of Talbot serues me for a Sword, For I haue loaden me with many Spoyles, Vsing no other Weapon but his Name. Enter.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundie.

Bedf. The Day begins to breake, and Night is fled, Whose pitchy Mantle ouer-vayl'd the Earth. Here sound Retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

Retreat.

Talb. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury, And here aduance it in the Market-Place, The middle Centure of this cursed Towne. Now haue I pay'd my Vow vnto his Soule: For euery drop of blood was drawne from him, There hath at least fiue Frenchmen dyed to night. And that hereafter Ages may behold What ruine happened in reuenge of him, Within their chiefest Temple Ile erect A Tombe, wherein his Corps shall be interr'd: Vpon the which, that euery one may reade, Shall be engrau'd the sacke of Orleance, The trecherous manner of his mournefull death, And what a terror he had beene to France. But Lords, in all our bloudy Massacre, I muse we met not with the Dolphins Grace, His new-come Champion, vertuous Ioane of Acre, Nor any of his false Confederates

Bedf. 'Tis thought Lord Talbot, when the fight began, Rows'd on the sudden from their drowsie Beds, They did amongst the troupes of armed men, Leape o're the Walls for refuge in the field

Burg. My selfe, as farre as I could well discerne, For smoake, and duskie vapours of the night, Am sure I scar'd the Dolphin and his Trull, When Arme in Arme they both came swiftly running, Like to a payre of louing Turtle-Doues, That could not liue asunder day or night. After that things are set in order here, Wee'le follow them with all the power we haue. Enter a Messenger.

Mess. All hayle, my Lords: which of this Princely trayne Call ye the Warlike Talbot, for his Acts So much applauded through the Realme of France? Talb. Here is the Talbot, who would speak with him? Mess. The vertuous Lady, Countesse of Ouergne, With modestie admiring thy Renowne, By me entreats (great Lord) thou would'st vouchsafe To visit her poore Castle where she lyes, That she may boast she hath beheld the man, Whose glory fills the World with lowd report

Burg. Is it euen so? Nay, then I see our Warres Will turne vnto a peacefull Comick sport, When Ladyes craue to be encountred with. You may not (my Lord) despise her gentle suit

Talb. Ne're trust me then: for when a World of men Could not preuayle with all their Oratorie, Yet hath a Womans kindnesse ouer-rul'd: And therefore tell her, I returne great thankes, And in submission will attend on her. Will not your Honors beare me company? Bedf. No, truly, 'tis more then manners will: And I haue heard it sayd, Vnbidden Guests Are often welcommest when they are gone

Talb. Well then, alone (since there's no remedie) I meane to proue this Ladyes courtesie. Come hither Captaine, you perceiue my minde.

Whispers.

Capt. I doe my Lord, and meane accordingly.

Exeunt.

Enter Countesse.

Count. Porter, remember what I gaue in charge, And when you haue done so, bring the Keyes to me

Port. Madame, I will. Enter.

Count. The Plot is layd, if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit, As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus death. Great is the rumour of this dreadfull Knight, And his atchieuements of no lesse account: Faine would mine eyes be witnesse with mine eares, To giue their censure of these rare reports. Enter Messenger and Talbot.

Mess. Madame, according as your Ladyship desir'd, By Message crau'd, so is Lord Talbot come

Count. And he is welcome: what? is this the man? Mess. Madame, it is

Count. Is this the Scourge of France? Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad? That with his Name the Mothers still their Babes? I see Report is fabulous and false. I thought I should haue seene some Hercules, A second Hector, for his grim aspect, And large proportion of his strong knit Limbes. Alas, this is a Child, a silly Dwarfe: It cannot be, this weake and writhled shrimpe Should strike such terror to his Enemies

Talb. Madame, I haue beene bold to trouble you: But since your Ladyship is not at leysure, Ile sort some other time to visit you

Count. What meanes he now? Goe aske him, whither he goes? Mess. Stay my Lord Talbot, for my Lady craues, To know the cause of your abrupt departure? Talb. Marry, for that shee's in a wrong beleefe, I goe to certifie her Talbot's here. Enter Porter with Keyes.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou Prisoner

Talb. Prisoner? to whom? Count. To me, blood-thirstie Lord: And for that cause I trayn'd thee to my House. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my Gallery thy Picture hangs: But now the substance shall endure the like, And I will chayne these Legges and Armes of thine, That hast by Tyrannie these many yeeres Wasted our Countrey, slaine our Citizens, And sent our Sonnes and Husbands captiuate

Talb. Ha, ha, ha

Count. Laughest thou Wretch? Thy mirth shall turne to moane

Talb. I laugh to see your Ladyship so fond, To thinke, that you haue ought but Talbots shadow, Whereon to practise your seueritie

Count. Why? art not thou the man? Talb. I am indeede

Count. Then haue I substance too

Talb. No, no, I am but shadow of my selfe: You are deceiu'd, my substance is not here; For what you see, is but the smallest part, And least proportion of Humanitie: I tell you Madame, were the whole Frame here, It is of such a spacious loftie pitch, Your Roofe were not sufficient to contayn't

Count. This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree? Talb. That will I shew you presently.

Winds his Horne, Drummes strike vp, a Peale of Ordenance: Enter Souldiors.

How say you Madame? are you now perswaded, That Talbot is but shadow of himselfe? These are his substance, sinewes, armes, and strength, With which he yoaketh your rebellious Neckes, Razeth your Cities, and subuerts your Townes, And in a moment makes them desolate

Count. Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse, I finde thou art no lesse then Fame hath bruited, And more then may be gathered by thy shape. Let my presumption not prouoke thy wrath, For I am sorry, that with reuerence I did not entertaine thee as thou art

Talb. Be not dismay'd, faire Lady, nor misconster The minde of Talbot, as you did mistake The outward composition of his body. What you haue done, hath not offended me: Nor other satisfaction doe I craue, But onely with your patience, that we may Taste of your Wine, and see what Cates you haue, For Souldiers stomacks alwayes serue them well

Count. With all my heart, and thinke me honored, To feast so great a Warrior in my House.

Exeunt.

Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerset, Poole, and others.

Yorke. Great Lords and Gentlemen, What meanes this silence? Dare no man answer in a Case of Truth? Suff. Within the Temple Hall we were too lowd, The Garden here is more conuenient

York. Then say at once, if I maintain'd the Truth: Or else was wrangling Somerset in th' error? Suff. Faith I haue beene a Truant in the Law, And neuer yet could frame my will to it, And therefore frame the Law vnto my will

Som. Iudge you, my Lord of Warwicke, then betweene vs

War. Between two Hawks, which flyes the higher pitch, Between two Dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, Between two Blades, which beares the better temper, Between two Horses, which doth beare him best, Between two Girles, which hath the merryest eye, I haue perhaps some shallow spirit of Iudgement: But in these nice sharpe Quillets of the Law, Good faith I am no wiser then a Daw

York. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance: The truth appeares so naked on my side, That any purblind eye may find it out

Som. And on my side it is so well apparrell'd, So cleare, so shining, and so euident, That it will glimmer through a blind-mans eye

York. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and so loth to speake, In dumbe significants proclayme your thoughts: Let him that is a true-borne Gentleman, And stands vpon the honor of his birth, If he suppose that I haue pleaded truth, From off this Bryer pluck a white Rose with me

Som. Let him that is no Coward, nor no Flatterer, But dare maintaine the partie of the truth, Pluck a red Rose from off this Thorne with me

War. I loue no Colours: and without all colour Of base insinuating flatterie, I pluck this white Rose with Plantagenet

Suff. I pluck this red Rose, with young Somerset, And say withall, I thinke he held the right

Vernon. Stay Lords and Gentlemen, and pluck no more Till you conclude, that he vpon whose side The fewest Roses are cropt from the Tree, Shall yeeld the other in the right opinion

Som. Good Master Vernon, it is well obiected: If I haue fewest, I subscribe in silence

York. And I

Vernon. Then for the truth, and plainnesse of the Case, I pluck this pale and Maiden Blossome here, Giuing my Verdict on the white Rose side

Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, Least bleeding, you doe paint the white Rose red, And fall on my side so against your will

Vernon. If I, my Lord, for my opinion bleed, Opinion shall be Surgeon to my hurt, And keepe me on the side where still I am

Som. Well, well, come on, who else? Lawyer. Vnlesse my Studie and my Bookes be false, The argument you held, was wrong in you; In signe whereof, I pluck a white Rose too

Yorke. Now Somerset, where is your argument? Som. Here in my Scabbard, meditating, that Shall dye your white Rose in a bloody red

York. Meane time your cheeks do counterfeit our Roses: For pale they looke with feare, as witnessing The truth on our side

Som. No Plantagenet: Tis not for feare, but anger, that thy cheekes Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our Roses, And yet thy tongue will not confesse thy error

Yorke. Hath not thy Rose a Canker, Somerset? Som. Hath not thy Rose a Thorne, Plantagenet? Yorke. I, sharpe and piercing to maintaine his truth, Whiles thy consuming Canker eates his falsehood

Som. Well, Ile find friends to weare my bleeding Roses, That shall maintaine what I haue said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seene

Yorke. Now by this Maiden Blossome in my hand, I scorne thee and thy fashion, peeuish Boy

Suff. Turne not thy scornes this way, Plantagenet

Yorke. Prowd Poole, I will, and scorne both him and thee

Suff. Ile turne my part thereof into thy throat

Som. Away, away, good William de la Poole, We grace the Yeoman, by conuersing with him

Warw. Now by Gods will thou wrong'st him, Somerset: His Grandfather was Lyonel Duke of Clarence, Third Sonne to the third Edward King of England: Spring Crestlesse Yeomen from so deepe a Root? Yorke. He beares him on the place's Priuiledge, Or durst not for his crauen heart say thus

Som. By him that made me, Ile maintaine my words On any Plot of Ground in Christendome. Was not thy Father, Richard, Earle of Cambridge, For Treason executed in our late Kings dayes? And by his Treason, stand'st not thou attainted, Corrupted, and exempt from ancient Gentry? His Trespas yet liues guiltie in thy blood, And till thou be restor'd, thou art a Yeoman

Yorke. My Father was attached, not attainted, Condemn'd to dye for Treason, but no Traytor; And that Ile proue on better men then Somerset, Were growing time once ripened to my will. For your partaker Poole, and you your selfe, Ile note you in my Booke of Memorie, To scourge you for this apprehension: Looke to it well, and say you are well warn'd

Som. Ah, thou shalt finde vs ready for thee still: And know vs by these Colours for thy Foes, For these, my friends in spight of thee shall weare

Yorke. And by my Soule, this pale and angry Rose, As Cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, Will I for euer, and my Faction weare, Vntill it wither with me to my Graue, Or flourish to the height of my Degree

Suff. Goe forward, and be choak'd with thy ambition: And so farwell, vntill I meet thee next. Enter.

Som. Haue with thee Poole: Farwell ambitious Richard. Enter.

Yorke. How I am brau'd, and must perforce endure it? Warw. This blot that they obiect against your House, Shall be whipt out in the next Parliament, Call'd for the Truce of Winchester and Gloucester: And if thou be not then created Yorke, I will not liue to be accounted Warwicke. Meane time, in signall of my loue to thee, Against prowd Somerset, and William Poole, Will I vpon thy partie weare this Rose. And here I prophecie: this brawle to day, Growne to this faction in the Temple Garden, Shall send betweene the Red-Rose and the White, A thousand Soules to Death and deadly Night

Yorke. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalfe would pluck a Flower

Ver. In your behalfe still will I weare the same

Lawyer. And so will I

Yorke. Thankes gentle. Come, let vs foure to Dinner: I dare say, This Quarrell will drinke Blood another day.

Exeunt.

Enter Mortimer, brought in a Chayre, and Iaylors.

Mort. Kind Keepers of my weake decaying Age, Let dying Mortimer here rest himselfe. Euen like a man new haled from the Wrack, So fare my Limbes with long Imprisonment: And these gray Locks, the Pursuiuants of death, Nestor-like aged, in an Age of Care, Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. These Eyes like Lampes, whose wasting Oyle is spent, Waxe dimme, as drawing to their Exigent. Weake Shoulders, ouer-borne with burthening Griefe, And pyth-lesse Armes, like to a withered Vine, That droupes his sappe-lesse Branches to the ground. Yet are these Feet, whose strength-lesse stay is numme, (Vnable to support this Lumpe of Clay) Swift-winged with desire to get a Graue, As witting I no other comfort haue. But tell me, Keeper, will my Nephew come? Keeper. Richard Plantagenet, my Lord, will come: We sent vnto the Temple, vnto his Chamber, And answer was return'd, that he will come

Mort. Enough: my Soule shall then be satisfied. Poore Gentleman, his wrong doth equall mine. Since Henry Monmouth first began to reigne, Before whose Glory I was great in Armes, This loathsome sequestration haue I had; And euen since then, hath Richard beene obscur'd, Depriu'd of Honor and Inheritance. But now, the Arbitrator of Despaires, Iust Death, kinde Vmpire of mens miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismisse me hence: I would his troubles likewise were expir'd, That so he might recouer what was lost. Enter Richard.

Keeper. My Lord, your louing Nephew now is come

Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? Rich. I, Noble Vnckle, thus ignobly vs'd, Your Nephew, late despised Richard, comes

Mort. Direct mine Armes, I may embrace his Neck, And in his Bosome spend my latter gaspe. Oh tell me when my Lippes doe touch his Cheekes, That I may kindly giue one fainting Kisse. And now declare sweet Stem from Yorkes great Stock, Why didst thou say of late thou wert despis'd? Rich. First, leane thine aged Back against mine Arme, And in that ease, Ile tell thee my Disease. This day in argument vpon a Case, Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me: Among which tearmes, he vs'd his lauish tongue, And did vpbrayd me with my Fathers death; Which obloquie set barres before my tongue, Else with the like I had requited him. Therefore good Vnckle, for my Fathers sake, In honor of a true Plantagenet, And for Alliance sake, declare the cause My Father, Earle of Cambridge, lost his Head