KING HENRY VI

PART I

ACT I

SCENE I.-Westminster Abbey. The Cloisters.

Enter the DUKes of Bedford, GLOSTER, and EXETER, and the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.

Bed.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states,

Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,

And with them scourge the bad revolting stars,
That have consented unto Henry's death!

Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long !
England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

Glo. England ne'er had a king until his time.

Virtue he had, deserving to command:
His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
More dazzled and drove back his enemies,

Than mid-day sun, fierce bent against their faces.

What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech :

He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

Exe. We mourn in black: Why mourn we not in blood?

Henry is dead, and never shall revive:

Upon a wooden coffin we attend ;

And death's dishonourable victory

We with our stately presence glorify,

Like captives bound to a triumphant car.

Win. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings.

The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought :
The church's prayers made him so prosperous.
Glo. The church! where is it?
pray'd,

Had not churchmen

His thread of life had not so soon decay'd;

None do you like but an effeminate prince,
Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.

Win. Gloster, whate'er we like, thou art protector;

And lookest to command the prince and realm.

Bed. Cease, cease these jars, and rest your minds in peace!

Let's to the altar :-Heralds, wait on us :

Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms
Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.
Henry the Fifth! thy ghost I invocate;

Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance : France is revolted from the English quite;

Except some petty towns of no import :

The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims
The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd ;

Duke Reignier of Anjou doth take his part;

The Duke of Alençon flieth to his side.

;

Exe. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

Glo.

We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats :Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.

Bed. Gloster, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,

Wherewith already France is overrun.

Exe. Were our tears wanting to this funeral, These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.

Bed. Me they concern; regent I am of France :

Give me my steeled coat, I'll fight for France.
Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

Exe. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,

Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,

Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.

Bed. I do remember; and here take my leave, To go about my preparation.

Glo. I'll to the Tower, with all the haste I can, To view the artillery and munition ;

And then I will proclaim young Henry king.

SCENE II.-London. The Temple Garden.

[Exeunt.

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 the truth;

Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in 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. War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, 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 loth 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 no 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,
The argument you held was wrong in you;
In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too.

Plan.
Som.

Now, Somerset, where is your argument? Here, in my scabbard; meditating that Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.

Plan. Meantime, your cheeks do counterfeit our roses, For pale they look with fear as witnessing

The truth on our side.

Som.

No, Plantagenet,

'Tis not for fear, but anger,—that thy cheeks Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses; And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.

Plan. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset ?

Som.

Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet ?

Plan. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth, Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.

Som. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding rose, That shall maintain what I have said is true,

Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.

Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,

I scorn thee and thy faction, peevish boy.

Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.

Plan. Proud Poole, 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 Poole !

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:
Was not thy father, Richard, Earl of Cambridge,
For treason, in our late king's days beheaded?
And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry ?
His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood :
And, till thou be restor❜d, thou art a yeoman.

Plan. My father was attached, not attainted:
Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,
Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partaker, Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,

To scourge you for this apprehension :
Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd.

Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still:

words.

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;