King Henry VI, First Part

SCENE IV. Paris. The palace

[Enter the King, 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

 
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

 
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 colors that I wear
In honor of my noble Lord of York: —
Dar'st 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 honor 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.]

ACT FOURTH

SCENE I. Paris. A hall of state

[Enter the King, 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.
 

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 practices against his state:
This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
 

[Enter Sir John 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 honorable 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

 
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

 
What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
 

GLOUCESTER

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

KING

 
Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
 

GLOUCESTER

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

KING

 
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

 
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, favor him.
 

KING

 
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

 
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

 
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 honorable 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

 
Come hither, you that would be combatants:
Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favor,
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 willful 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 forgo
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,
 

[Putting on a red rose.]

 
That any one should therefore be suspicious
I more incline to Somerset than York:
Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both:
As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd.
But your discretions better can persuade
Than I am able to instruct or teach;
And, therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us still continue peace and love.
Cousin of York, we institute your grace
To be our Regent in these parts of France:
And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite
Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot;
And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,
Go cheerfully together and digest
Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourself, my lord protector and the rest
After some respite will return to Calais;
From thence to England; where I hope ere long
To be presented, by your victories,
With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous rout.
 

[Flourish. Exeunt all but York, Warwick, Exeter and Vernon.]

WARWICK

 
My Lord of York, I promise you, the king
Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
 

YORK

 
And so he did; but yet I like it not,
In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
 

WARWICK

 
Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not;
I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
 

YORK

 
An if I wist he did, – but let it rest;
Other affairs must now be managed.
 

[Exeunt all but Exeter.]

EXETER

 
Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagined or supposed.
But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
This jarring discord of nobility,
This shouldering of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favorites,
But that it doth presage some ill event.
Tis much when scepters are in children's hands;
But more when envy breeds unkind division;
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
 

[Exit.]

SCENE II. Before Bordeaux

[Enter Talbot, with trump and drum.]

TALBOT

 
Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter:
Summon their general unto the wall.
 

[Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others, aloft.]

 
English John Talbot, Captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
And thus he would: Open your city-gates,
Be humble to us; call my sovereign yours,
And do him homage as obedient subjects;
And I 'll withdraw me and my bloody power:
But, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire;
Who in a moment even with the earth
Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers,
If you forsake the offer of their love.
 

GENERAL

 
Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge!
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On us thou canst not enter but by death;
For, I protest, we are well fortified
And strong enough to issue out and fight:
If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:
On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd
To wall thee from the liberty of flight;
And no way canst thou turn thee for redress,
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil,
And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament
To rive their dangerous artillery
Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit!
This is the latest glory of thy praise
That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
For ere the glass, that now begins to run,
Finish the process of his sandy hour,
These eyes, that see thee now well colored,
Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
 

[Drum afar off.]

 
Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
 

[Exeunt General, etc.]

TALBOT

 
He fables not; I hear the enemy:
Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.
O, negligent and heedless discipline!
How are we park'd and bounded in a pale,
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood;
Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch,
But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags,
Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel
And make the cowards stand aloof at bay:
Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.
God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right,
Prosper our colors in this dangerous fight!
 

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Plains in Gascony

[Enter a Messenger that meets York. Enter York with trumpet and many soldiers.]

YORK

 
Are not the speedy scouts return'd again,
That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin?
 

MESSENGER

 
They are return'd, my lord, and give it out
That he is march'd to Bordeaux with his power,
To fight with Talbot: as he march'd along,
By your espials were discovered
Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led,
Which join'd with him and made their march for
Bordeaux.
 

YORK

 
A plague upon that villain Somerset,
That thus delays my promised supply
Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege!
Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid,
And I am lowted by a traitor villain,
And cannot help the noble chevalier:
God comfort him in this necessity!
If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
 

[Enter Sir William Lucy.]

LUCY

 
Thou princely leader of our English strength,
Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron,
And hemm'd about with grim destruction.
To Bordeaux, warlike Duke! to Bordeaux, York!
Else, farewell, Talbot, France, and England's honor.
 

YORK

 
O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart
Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep,
That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
 

LUCY

 
O, send some succor to the distress'd lord!
 

YORK

 
He dies; we lose; I break my warlike word;
We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get;
All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset.
 

LUCY

 
Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul;
And on his son young John, who two hours since
I met in travel toward his warlike father!
This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
And now they meet where both their lives are done.
 

YORK

 
Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
Away! vexation almost stops my breath,
That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.
Lucy, farewell: no more my fortune can,
But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,
'Long all of Somerset and his delay.
 

[Exit, with his soldiers.]

LUCY

 
Thus, while the vulture of sedition
Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,
That ever living man of memory,
Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross,
Lives, honors, lands and all hurry to loss.
 

[Exit.]

SCENE IV. Other plains in Gascony

[Enter Somerset, with his army; a Captain of

 
Talbot's with him.]
 

SOMERSET

 
It is too late; I cannot send them now:
This expedition was by York and Talbot
Too rashly plotted: all our general force
Might with a sally of the very town
Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot
Hath sullied all his gloss of former honor
By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure:
York set him on to fight and die in shame,
That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
 

CAPTAIN

 
Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.
 

[Enter Sir William Lucy.]

SOMERSET

 
How now, Sir William! whither were you sent?
 

LUCY

 
Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot;
Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
To beat assailing death from his weak legions;
And whiles the honorable captain there
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
Let not your private discord keep away
The levied succors that should lend him aid,
While he, renowned noble gentleman,
Yield up his life unto a world of odds.
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,
And Talbot perisheth by your default.
 

SOMERSET

 
York set him on; York should have sent him aid.
 

LUCY

 
And York as fast upon your grace exclaims;
Swearing that you withhold his levied host,
Collected for this expedition.
 

SOMERSET

 
York lies; he might have sent and had the horse:
I owe him little duty, and less love;
And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
 

LUCY

 
The fraud of England, not the force of France,
Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot:
Never to England shall he bear his life;
But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
 

SOMERSET

 
Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight:
Within six hours they will be at his aid.
 

LUCY

 
Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or slain;
For fly he could not, if he would have fled;
And fly would Talbot never, though he might.
 

SOMERSET

 
If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu!
 

LUCY

 
His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
 

[Exeunt.]