Complete Plays, The (252 page)

There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
And all the troops of English after him.

French march. Enter Burgundy and forces

Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley; we will talk with him.

Trumpets sound a parley

Charles

A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!

Burgundy

Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

Joan La Pucelle

The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

Burgundy

What say’st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.

Charles

Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.

Joan La Pucelle

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

Burgundy

Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

Joan La Pucelle

Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country’s stained spots.

Burgundy

Either she hath bewitch’d me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Joan La Pucelle

Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who joint’st thou with but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit’s sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashion’d thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord
And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See, then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And joint’st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.

Burgundy

I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
Have batter’d me like roaring cannon-shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees.
Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
My forces and my power of men are yours:
So farewell, Talbot; I’ll no longer trust thee.

Joan La Pucelle

[Aside]
 
Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!

Charles

Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.

Bastard Of Orleans

And doth beget new courage in our breasts.

Alencon

Pucelle hath bravely play’d her part in this,
And doth deserve a coronet of gold.

Charles

Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
And seek how we may prejudice the foe.

Exeunt

S
CENE
IV. P
ARIS
. T
HE
PALACE
.

Enter King Henry VI, Gloucester, Bishop Of Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Exeter, Vernon Basset, and others. To them with his Soldiers, Talbot

Talbot

My gracious prince, and honourable peers,
Hearing of your arrival in this realm,
I have awhile given truce unto my wars,
To do my duty to my sovereign:
In sign, whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim’d
To your obedience fifty fortresses,
Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength,
Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,
Lets fall his sword before your highness’ feet,
And with submissive loyalty of heart
Ascribes the glory of his conquest got
First to my God and next unto your grace.

Kneels

King Henry VI

Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
That hath so long been resident in France?

Gloucester

Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.

King Henry VI

Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!
When I was young, as yet I am not old,
I do remember how my father said
A stouter champion never handled sword.
Long since we were resolved of your truth,
Your faithful service and your toil in war;
Yet never have you tasted our reward,
Or been reguerdon’d with so much as thanks,
Because till now we never saw your face:
Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
And in our coronation take your place.

Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but Vernon and Basset

Vernon

Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
Disgracing of these colours that I wear
In honour of my noble Lord of York:
Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest?

Basset

Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage
The envious barking of your saucy tongue
Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

Vernon

Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.

Basset

Why, what is he? as good a man as York.

Vernon

Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that.

Strikes him

Basset

Villain, thou know’st the law of arms is such
That whoso draws a sword, ’tis present death,
Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
But I’ll unto his majesty, and crave
I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
When thou shalt see I’ll meet thee to thy cost.

Vernon

Well, miscreant, I’ll be there as soon as you;
And, after, meet you sooner than you would.

Exeunt

A
CT
IV

S
CENE
I. P
ARIS
. A
HALL
OF
STATE
.

Enter King Henry VI, Gloucester, Bishop Of Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, the Governor, of Paris, and others

Gloucester

Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.

Bishop of Winchester

God save King Henry, of that name the sixth!

Gloucester

Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,
That you elect no other king but him;
Esteem none friends but such as are his friends,
And none your foes but such as shall pretend
Malicious practises against his state:
This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!

Enter Fastolfe

Fastolfe

My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais,
To haste unto your coronation,
A letter was deliver’d to my hands,
Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.

Talbot

Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!
I vow’d, base knight, when I did meet thee next,
To tear the garter from thy craven’s leg,

Plucking it off

Which I have done, because unworthily
Thou wast installed in that high degree.
Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest
This dastard, at the battle of Patay,
When but in all I was six thousand strong
And that the French were almost ten to one,
Before we met or that a stroke was given,
Like to a trusty squire did run away:
In which assault we lost twelve hundred men;
Myself and divers gentlemen beside
Were there surprised and taken prisoners.
Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss;
Or whether that such cowards ought to wear
This ornament of knighthood, yea or no.

Gloucester

To say the truth, this fact was infamous
And ill beseeming any common man,
Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.

Talbot

When first this order was ordain’d, my lords,
Knights of the garter were of noble birth,
Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress,
But always resolute in most extremes.
He then that is not furnish’d in this sort
Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
Profaning this most honourable order,
And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.

King Henry VI

Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear’st thy doom!
Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight:
Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.

Exit Fastolfe

And now, my lord protector, view the letter
Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.

Gloucester

What means his grace, that he hath changed his style?
No more but, plain and bluntly, ‘To the king!’
Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?
Or doth this churlish superscription
Pretend some alteration in good will?
What’s here?

Reads

‘I have, upon especial cause,
Moved with compassion of my country’s wreck,
Together with the pitiful complaints
Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
Forsaken your pernicious faction
And join’d with Charles, the rightful King of France.’
O monstrous treachery! can this be so,
That in alliance, amity and oaths,
There should be found such false dissembling guile?

King Henry VI

What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?

Gloucester

He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.

King Henry VI

Is that the worst this letter doth contain?

Gloucester

It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.

King Henry VI

Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him
And give him chastisement for this abuse.
How say you, my lord? are you not content?

Talbot

Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented,
I should have begg’d I might have been employ’d.

King Henry VI

Then gather strength and march unto him straight:
Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason
And what offence it is to flout his friends.

Talbot

I go, my lord, in heart desiring still
You may behold confusion of your foes.

Exit

Enter Vernon and Basset

Vernon

Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.

Basset

And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.

York

This is my servant: hear him, noble prince.

Somerset

And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him.

King Henry VI

Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak.
Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim?
And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?

Vernon

With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.

Basset

And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.

King Henry VI

What is that wrong whereof you both complain?
First let me know, and then I’ll answer you.

Basset

Crossing the sea from England into France,
This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rose I wear;
Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves
Did represent my master’s blushing cheeks,
When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain question in the law
Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him;
With other vile and ignominious terms:
In confutation of which rude reproach
And in defence of my lord’s worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.

Vernon

And that is my petition, noble lord:
For though he seem with forged quaint conceit
To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him;
And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
Bewray’d the faintness of my master’s heart.

York

Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?

Somerset

Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne’er so cunningly you smother it.

King Henry VI

Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men,
When for so slight and frivolous a cause
Such factious emulations shall arise!
Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.

York

Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
And then your highness shall command a peace.

Somerset

The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.

York

There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.

Vernon

Nay, let it rest where it began at first.

Basset

Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.

Gloucester

Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife!
And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed
With this immodest clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the king and us?
And you, my lords, methinks you do not well
To bear with their perverse objections;
Much less to take occasion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves:
Let me persuade you take a better course.

Exeter

It grieves his highness: good my lords, be friends.

King Henry VI

Come hither, you that would be combatants:
Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.
And you, my lords, remember where we are,
In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation:
If they perceive dissension in our looks
And that within ourselves we disagree,
How will their grudging stomachs be provoked
To wilful disobedience, and rebel!
Beside, what infamy will there arise,
When foreign princes shall be certified
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry’s peers and chief nobility
Destroy’d themselves, and lost the realm of France!
O, think upon the conquest of my father,
My tender years, and let us not forego
That for a trifle that was bought with blood
Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
I see no reason, if I wear this rose,