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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; [hood. Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falseSom. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,

That shall maintain what I have said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my

hand,

I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. Suff. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.

Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and thee."

Suff. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throa.. Som. Away, away, good William De-laPoole! [him. We grace the yeoman, by conversing with War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset ;

Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloster:
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 Poole,
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

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Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, His grandfather was Lionel, duke of Clarence, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.Third son to the third Edward king of Eng-Even like a man new haled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment: And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,*

land;

Spring crestless yeomen* from so deep a root? Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,t Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus. Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words

On any plot of ground in Christendom: Was not thy father, Richard, earl of Cambridge,

For treason executed in our late king's days?
And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
And, till thou be restor'd, thou art a yeoman.
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted;
Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
And that I'll prove on better men than Somer-
set,

Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partakers Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this apprehension :||
Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd.
Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee
still:

And know us, by these colours, for thy foes;
For these my friends, in spite of thee, sha!l

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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 burd'ning
grief;

And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine That droops his sapless branches to the ground:[numb, Yet are these feet-whose strengthless stay is 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? 1 Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will

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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 ob-
Depriv'd of honour and inheritance: [scur'd.
But now, the arbitrator of despairs,

Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence;

I would, his troubles likewise were expir'd, That so he might recover what was lost.

Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET.

1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now

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Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, 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 despis'd? 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, [me:
Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and
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.
Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that im-
prison'd me,

And hath detain'd me, all my flow'ring youth,
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,
Depos'd 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 mov'd these warlike lords to this,
Was-for that (young king Richard thus re-
mov'd,

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 deriv'd
From famous Edmund Langley, duke of
York,-

Marrying my sister, that thy mother was,
Again, in pity of my hard distress,
Levied an army; weenings 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

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

[Exeunt KEEPERS, bearing out MORTIMER. Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Chok'd 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; Either to be restored to my blood,

Or make my ill the advantage of my good.

ACT III.

[Exit.

SCENE I.-The same.-The Parliament-house. Flourish. Enter King HENRY, EXETER, GLOSTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the Bishop of WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others. GLOSTER offers to put up a Bill; WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it.

Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated

lines,

With written pamphlets studiously devis'd,
Humphrey of Gloster? 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.

Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place com

mands my patience, [me. Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd Think not, although in writing I preferr'd The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: No, prelate; such is thy audacious wicked

ness,

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,

*Lucky, prosperous. +My ill, is my ill usage.
11. e. Articles of accusation.

The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
From envious malice of thy swelling heart."
Win. Gloster, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouch-
To give me hearing what I shall reply. [safe
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 dissention, Who preferreth peace
More than I do,-except I be provok'd?
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
It is not that, that hath incens'd 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-

Glo. As good?

Thou bastard of my grandfather!

Win. Ay, lordly Sir; For what are you, I But one imperious in another's throne? [pray, Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest? Win. And am I not a prelate of the church? Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, And useth it to patronage his theft.

Win. Unreverent Gloster!

Glo. Thou art reverent

Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
Win. This Rome shall reniedy.
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 humIt fitteth not a prelate so to plead. [bler; 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?

Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue;

Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should; Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

[Aside.

K. Hen. Uncies of Gloster, and of Winchester,

The special watchmen of our English weal;
I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
To join your hearts in love and amity.
O, what a scandal is it to our crown,
That two such noble peers as ye, should jar!
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell,
Civil dissention is a viperous worm,
That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.-
[A noise within; Down with the tawny coats!
What tumult's this?

War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop's men. [A noise again; Stones! Stones!

Enter the MAYOR of London, uttended. May. O, my good lords, and virtuous HenPity the city of London, pity us! [ry, The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; And, banding themselves in contrary parts, Do pelt so fast at one another's pate, [out: That many have their giddy brains knock'd Our windows are broke down in every street, 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,

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Glo. Stay, stay, I say!

[Skirmish again.

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!-

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. My lord protector, yield;-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.
Glo. Compassion on the king commands me

stoop;

Or, I would see his heart out, ere the priest Should ever get that privilege of me.

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

Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. K. Hen. 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

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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: Especially, for those occasions

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; So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd. Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.

K. Hen. If Richard will be true, not that But all the whole inheritance I give, [alone, 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. K. Hen. Stoop then, and set your knee a gainst my foot;

And, in reguerdon of that duty done,
I girt 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!

Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York! [Aside.

Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, To cross the seas, and to be crown'd in France: The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his loyal friends; As it disanimates his enemies.

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
Not seeing what is likely to ensue: [France,
This late dissention, grown betwixt the peers,
Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love,
And will at last break out into a flame :
As fester'd members rot but by degrees,
Till bones, and flesh, and sinews, fall away,
So will this base and envious discord breed.
And now I fear that fatal prophecy,
Which, in the time of Henry, nam'd the fifth,
Was in the mouth of every sucking babe,-
That Henry, born at Monmouth, should win
all;

And Henry, born at Windsor, should lose all:
Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish
His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-France.-Before Rouen, Enter LA PUCELLE disguised, and SOLDIERS dressed like Countrymen, with Sacks upon their Backs.

Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,

* Recompense.

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.

1 Sold. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,

And we be lords and rulers over Roüen;
Therefore we'll knock.

Guard. [Within.] Qui est là?

[Knocks.

Puc. Paisans, pauvres gens de France: Poor market-folks, that come to sell their

corn.

Guard. Enter, go in; the market-bell is rung. [Opens the Gates. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.

[PUCELLE, &c. enter the City.

Enter CHARLES, BASTARD of Orleans, ALENÇON, and Forces.

Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem!

And once again we'll sleep secure in Roüen. Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practisants;

Now she is there, how will she specify
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,[enter'd. No way to that,t for weakness, which she

Enter LA PUCELLE on a Buttlement: 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,
And then do execution on the watch.

[They enter.

Alarums. Enter TALBOT, and certain English. Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,

If Talbot but survive thy treachery.-
Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress,
Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
That hardly we escap'd the pride of France.
[Exeunt to the Town.

Alarum: Excursions. Enter from the Town,
BEDFORD, brought in sick, in a Chair, with
TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the English Forces.
Then, enter on the Walls, LA PUCELLE,
CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENÇON, and others.
Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn
for bread?

I think, the duke of Burgundy will fast,

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Before he'll buy again at such a rate: 'Twas full of darnel; Do you like the taste? Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless 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.

Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!

Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,

And run a tilt at death within a chair?

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 you so hot, Sir?-Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;

If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.[TALBOT, and the rest, consult together. 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, Alencon, and the rest; Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out? Alen. Signior, no.

France!

Tul. Signior, hang!-base muleteers of Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls, And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. Puc. Captains, away: let's get us from the walls;

For Talbot means no goodness, by his looks. God be wi' you, my lord! we came, Sir, but to tell you

That we are here.

[Exeunt LA PUCELLE, &c. 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 Roüen, And will be partner of your weal, or woe. Bur. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you.

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!

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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.
[Dies, and is carried off in his Chair.
Alarum: Enter TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and others.
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 monument.

Tal. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is
Pucelle now?

I think, her old familiar is asleep:
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and
Charles his gleeks?*

What, all a-mort?+ Rouen hangs her head for grief,

That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some ordert in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers;
And then depart to Paris, to the king;
For there young Harry, with his nobles, lies.
Bur. What wills lord Talbot, pleaseth Bur-
gundy.

Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
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 same.-The Plains near the
City.

Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD, ALENÇON, LA PUCELLE, and Forces.

Puc. Dismay not, princes, at this accident, Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered: For things that are not to be remedied. Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while, We'll pull his plumes, and take away his train, And like a peacock sweep along his tail; If Dauphin, and the rest, will be but rul'd. * Scoff's. + Quite dispirited. ↑ Make some necessary dispositions. Funeral rites.

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