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 Henry,- The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: And we, for fear, compell'd to shut our shops. Enter, skirmishing, the Retainers of Gloster and Winchester, with bloody pates. K. Hen. We charge you on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. 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 broil, And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. 3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man, Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, Inferior to none, but his majesty: And, ere that we will suffer such a prince, 1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Skirmish again. Glo. Stay, stay, I say! And, if you love me, as you say you do, Let me persuade you to forbear a while. K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Or who should study to prefer a peace, War. My lord protector, yield ;-yield, Winchester: War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. 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; What, shall a child instruct you what to do? Win. Well, duke of Gloster, I will yield to thee; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give. Glo. Ay; but I fear me, with a hollow heart.- Win. So help me God, as I intend it not! [Aside. K. Hen. O loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, How joyful 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 physic the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet We do exhibit to your majesty. Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick ;-for, sweet prince, An if your grace mark every circumstance, You have great reason to do Richard right: At Eltham-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, That Richard be restored to his blood. War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; That doth belong unto the house of York, And humble service till the point of death. K. Hen. Stoop then, and set your knee against my foot; And, in reguerdon of that duty done, I girt thee with the valiant sword of York: Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet; Plan. And so thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall? And as my duty springs, so perish they That grudge one thought against your majesty! All. Welcome high prince, the mighty duke of York! Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, K. Hen. When Gloster says the word, king Henry goes; 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 France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue : This late dissension, grown betwixt the peers, His days may finish ere that hapless time. [Exit. SCENE II.-France. Before Rouen. Enter La Pucelle disguised, and Soldiers dressed like Country men, with sacks upon their backs. Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach: Take heed, be wary how you place your words; Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men, That come to gather money for their corn. That Charles the dauphin may encounter them. Therefore we'll knock. Guard. [Within.] Qui est la? Puc. Paisans, pauvres gens de France: [Knocks. Poor market-folks, that come to sell their corn. Guard. [Within.] Enter, go in: the market-bell is [Opens the gates. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the [Pucelle, &c. enter the city. rung. ground. Enter Charles, Bastard of Orleans, Alencon, and Forces. Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem! Where is the best and safest passage in? Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower; Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,No way to that, for weakness, which she enter❜d. Enter La Pucelle on a battlement; holding out a torch burning. Puc. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen; But burning fatal to the Talbotites. Bast. See, noble Charles! the beacon of our friend, The burning torch in yonder turret stands. Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, A prophet to the fall of all our foes! Alen. Defer no time, Delays have dangerous ends Enter, and cry-The dauphin !-presently, |