The Complete Dramatic and Poetical Works of William Shakespeare

For I am sorry that with reverence
I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue

The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done hath not offended me;
Nor other satisfaction do I crave,

But only, with your patience, that we may
Taste of your wine and see what cates you have;
For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
Count. With all my heart, and think me honoured
To feast so great a warrior in my house. [Exeunt.

The Temple-garden.

SCENE IV. — London. Enter the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick; Richard Plantagenet, Vernon, and another Lawyer. Plan. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suf. Within the Temple-hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient.

Plan. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth; Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error? Suf. Faith, I have been a truant in the law, And never yet could frame my will to it; And therefore frame the law unto my will. Som. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us. [pitch; War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which bears the better temper; Between two horses, which doth bear him best; Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye; I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.

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

Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,

So clear, so shining and so evident

That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. Plan. Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,

In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
Let him that is a true-born gentleman
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.
Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
But dare maintain the party of the truth,
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.

War. I love no colours, and without all colour Of base insinuating flattery

I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.

Suf. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset And say withal I think he held the right.

Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck

more,

Till you conclude that he upon whose side
The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.

Som. Good Master Vernon, it is well objected:
If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
Plan. And I.

Ver. Then for the truth and plainness of the case, I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, Giving my verdict on the white rose side.

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

Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt
And keep me on the side where still I am.

Som. Well, well, come on: who else?

Law. Unless my study and my books be false,

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 fashion, peevish boy.
Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
Plan. Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him
and thee.

Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William de la Pole! We grace the yeoman by conversing with him. 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 restored, 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 Pole 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. Ah, 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 rose, As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, Will I for ever and my faction wear, Until it wither with me to my grave Or flourish to the height of my degree.

[tion!

Suf. Go forward and be choked with thy ambiAnd so farewell until I meet thee next. [Exit. Som. Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard.

[Exit.

Plan. How I am braved and must perforce endure it! [house

War. This blot that they object against your
Shall be wiped out in the next parliament
Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester;
And if thou be not then created York,

I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Meantime, in signal of my love to thee,
Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rose:
And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,

Shall send between the red rose and the white
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
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 Tower of London.

Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Gaolers.
Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
Even like a man new haled from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment;
And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
Nestor-like aged in an age of care,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.

These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;
Weak shoulders, overborne with burthening grief,
And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine
That droops his sapless branches to the ground:
Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb,
Unable to support this lump of clay,
Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
As witting I no other comfort have.
But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
First Gaol. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will

come:

We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber;
And answer was return'd that he will come.

Mor. Enough: my soul 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 obscured,
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 expired,
That so he might recover what was lost.

Enter Richard Plantagenet.

First Gaol. My lord, your loving nephew now is

come.

Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come ?
Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used,
Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes.

Mor. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck,
And in his bosom spend my latter gasp:
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 despised?
Plan. First, lean thine aged back against mine

arm;

And, in that ease, 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 used his lavish tongue
And did upbraid me with my father's death:
Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
Else with the like I had requited him."
Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet

And for alliance sake, declare the cause
My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.

Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was cursed instrument of his decease.
Plan. Discover more at large what cause that was,
For I am ignorant and cannot guess.

Mor. I will, if that my fading breath permit
And death approach not ere my tale be done.
Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king,
Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son,
The first-begotten and the lawful heir
Of Edward king, the third of that descent:
During whose reign the Percies of the north,
Finding his usurpation most unjust,
Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne:

The reason moved these warlike lords to this

Was, for that- young King Richard thus removed,
Leaving no heir begotten of his body-

I was the next by birth and parentage;
For by my mother I derived am
From Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son
To King Edward the Third; whereas he
From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
Being but fourth of that heroic line.
But mark as in this haughty great attempt
They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
I lost my liberty and they their lives.
Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,
Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign,
Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, then derived
From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
Again in pity of my hard distress
Levied an army, weening to redeem
And have install'd me in the diadem:
But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl
And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
In whom the title rested, were suppress'd.

Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the 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 me:
But yet, methinks, my father's execution
Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.

Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politic:
Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster
And like a mountain, not to be removed.
But now thy uncle is removing hence;
As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd
With long continuance in a settled place.

Plan. O, uncle, would some part of my young years
Might but redeem the passage of your age!

Mor. Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaugh-
terer doth

Which giveth many wounds when one will kill.
Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good;
Only give order for my funeral:

And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes
And prosperous be thy life in peace and war! [Dies.
Plan. And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul!
In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage
And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.
Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
And what I do imagine let that rest.
Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself
Will see his burial better than his life.

[Exeunt Gaolers, bearing out the body of Mortimer.
Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
Choked with ambition of the meaner sort:
And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house,
I doubt not but with honour to redress;
And therefore haste I to the parliament,

Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me Either to be restored to my blood,

And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth

Or make my ill the advantage of my good.

[Exit.

London.

ACT III.

The Parliament-house.

SCENE I. Flourish. Enter King, Exeter, Gloucester, Warwick, Somerset, and Suffolk; the Bishop of Winchester, Richard Plantagenet, and others. Gloucester offers to put up a bill; Winchester snatches it, and tears it. Win. Comest thou with deep premeditated lines, With written pamphlets studiously devised, Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse, Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge, Do it without invention, suddenly; As I with sudden and extemporal speech Purpose to answer what thou canst object.

Glou. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience,

Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me.
Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
That therefore I have forged, or am not able
Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen:
No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks,
As very infants prattle of thy pride.
Thou art a most pernicious usurer,
Froward by nature, enemy to peace;
Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
A man of thy profession and degree;
And for thy treachery, what's more manifest?
In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
As well at London bridge as at the Tower.
Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
Win. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouch-
To give me hearing what I shall reply.
If I were covetous, ambitious or perverse,
As he will have me, how am I so poor?
Or how haps it I seek not to advance

Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
And for dissension, who preferreth peace
More than I do?-except I be provoked.
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
It is not that that hath incensed the duke:
It is, because no one should sway but he;
No one but he should be about the king;
And that engenders thunder in his breast
And makes him roar these accusations forth.
But he shall know I am as good-
Glou.

Thou bastard of my grandfather!

As good!

[safe

I pray,

Win. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you,
But one imperious in another's throne?
Glou. Am I not protector, saucy priest?
Win. And am not I a prelate of the church?
Glou. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps
And useth it to patronage his theft.
Win. Unreverent Gloster!
Glou.

Thou art reverent
Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
Win. Rome shall remedy this.
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.

Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. War. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? [tongue, Plan. [Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his 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.

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May. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
Pity the city of London, pity us!

The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester'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.

Enter Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates.
King. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
To hold your slaughtering hands and keep the peace.
Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.
First Serv. Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we 'll
fall to it with our teeth.

Sec. Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glou. You of my household, leave this peevish And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. [broil

Third Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, [man Inferior to none but to his majesty: And ere that we will suffer such a prince, So kind a father of the commonweal,

To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,

We and our wives and children all will fight
And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.
First Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails
Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Begin again.
Glon.
Stay, stay, I say!
And if you love me, as you say you do,
Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.
King. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!
Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
My sighs and tears and will not once relent?
Who should be pitiful, if you be not?

Or who should study to prefer a peace,

If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

War. Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester; Except you mean with obstinate repulse To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm. You see what mischief and what murder too Hath been enacted through your enmity; Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.

Win. He shall submit, or I will never yield. Glou. Compassion on the king commands me Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest [stoop; Should ever get that privilege of me.

War. Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, As by his smoothed brows it doth appear: Why look you still so stern and tragical?

Glou. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. King. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach

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 Gloucester, I will yield to thee;
Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.
Glou. [Aside] Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow
heart.-

See here, my friends and loving countrymen;
This token serveth for a flag of truce
Betwixt ourselves and all our followers:
So help me God, as I dissemble not!

Win. [Aside] So help me God, as I intend it not!
King. O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester,
How joyful am I made by this contract!
Away, my masters! trouble us no more;
But join in friendship, as your lords have done.
First Serv. Content: I'll to the surgeon's.
Sec. Serv.
And so will I.
Third Serv. And I will see what physic the tav-
ern affords.
[Exeunt Serving-men, Mayor, &c.
War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign,
Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet
We do exhibit to your majesty.

[prince,
Glou. Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: for, sweet
An 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.
King. 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:
So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed.
Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.
King. If Richard will be true, not that alone
But all the whole inheritance I give
That doth belong unto the house of York,
From whence you spring by lineal descent.

Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience
And humble service till the point of death. [foot;
King. Stoop then and set your knee against my
And, in reguerdon of that duty done,

I gird thee with the valiant sword of York:
Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
And rise created princely Duke of York.

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!
[of York!
Som. [Aside] Perish, base prince, ignoble Duke
Glou. 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; King. When Gloucester says the word, King For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Glou. Your ships already are in readiness.

[Sennet. Flourish. 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
Burns under feigned ashes of forged love
And will at last break out into a flame:

As fester'd members rot but by degree,
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 named the Fifth
Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
And Henry born at Windsor 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, with four Soldiers 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. If we have entrance, as I hope we shall, And that we find the slothful watch but weak, I'll by a sign give notice to our friends, That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. First Sol. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the And we be lords and rulers over Rouen; Therefore we 'll knock.

Watch. [Within] Qui est là?

[city, [Knocks.

Puc. Paysans, pauvres gens de France; Poor market folks that come to sell their corn. Watch. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Exeunt. Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, Reignier, and forces.

Char. Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem! And once again we 'll sleep secure in Rouen. Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants; Now she is there, how will she specify Where is the best and safest passage in?

Reign. 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 the top, thrusting out a torch burning.

Puc. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbotites!

[Exit.

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!

Reign. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends: Enter, and cry 'The Dauphin!' presently, And then do execution on the watch.

[Alarum. Exeunt.

An alarum. Enter Talbot in an excursion. Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy If Talbot but survive thy treachery. [tears, Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress, Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, That hardly we escaped the pride of France. [Exit.

An alarum: excursions. Bedford, brought in sick in a chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy without: within La Pucelle, Charles, Bastard, Alençon, and Reignier, on the walls.

[bread?

Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast Before he 'll buy again at such a rate: 'T was full of darnel; do you like the taste? Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan! I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. Char. Your grace may starve perhaps before that time.. [treason! Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break And run a tilt at death within a chair? [a lance, Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead? Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.

Puc. Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow. [peace; [The English whisper together in council. God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? Puc. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools, To try if that our own be ours or no.

Tal. I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest;
Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
Alen. Signior, no.

Tal. Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Puc. Away, captains! let 's get us from the walls; For Talbot means no goodness by his looks. God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you That we are here. [Exeunt from the walls. Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame! Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house, Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France, Either to get the town again or die: 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.

Bur. My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
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,
Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.

Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen
And will be partner of your weal or woe.

[you.

Bur. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade
Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
Came to the field and vanquished his foes:
Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
Because I ever found them as myself.

Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe!
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand
And set upon our boasting enemy.

[Exeunt all but Bedford and Attendants. An alarum: 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 Talbot! Fast. Ay,

All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. [Exit. Cap. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! [Exit.

Retreat: excursions. La Pucelle, Alençon, and Charles fly.

Bed. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please, For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. What is the trust or strength of foolish man? They that of late were daring with their scoffs Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. [Bedford dies, and is carried in by two in

his chair.

An alarum. Re-enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.

Tal. Lost, and recover'd in a day again!
This is a double honour, Burgundy:
Yet heavens have glory for this victory!

Bur. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy

Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments.
Tal. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle
I think her old familiar is asleep:
[now?
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his
gleeks?

What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the king,
For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

Bur. What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet, before we go, let 's not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court;
But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that 's the end of human misery.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The plains near Rouen. Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, La Pucelle, and forces.

Puc. Dismay not, princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered: Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied. Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while And like a peacock sweep along his tail; We'll pull his plumes and take away his train, If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled. Char. We have been guided by thee hitherto And of thy cunning had no diffidence: One sudden foil shall never breed distrust. Bast. Search out thy wit for secret policies, And we will make thee famous through the world. Alen. We'll set thy statue in some holy place, And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint: Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good. Puc. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise: By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words We will entice the Duke of Burgundy To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

Char. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, France were no place for Henry's warriors; Nor should that nation boast it so with us, But be extirped from our provinces. Alen. For ever should they be expulsed from And not have title of an earldom here. [France Puc. Your honours shall perceive how I will work To bring this matter to the wished end. [Drum sounds afar off. Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. Here sound 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. French march. Enter the Duke of Burgundy and forces.

Now in the rearward comes the duke and his: Fortune in favour makes him lag behind. Suminon a parley; we will talk with him. [Trumpets sound a parley. Char. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! Bur. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. [ing hence. Bur. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marchChar. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.

Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

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The Complete Dramatic and Poetical Works of William Shakespeare, Volumul 2