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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? Som. Your private grudge, my lord of York, will out,

Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.

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

York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
Bas. Confirm it so, mine honorable lord.

Glos. 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.

Exe. It grieves his highness. Good my lords, be friends.

K. Hen. Come hither, you that would be com-
batants.

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 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,

[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, Alençon, and that traitorous rout. [florish. Exeunt King Henry, Glos. Som. Win. Suf. and Basset.

War. 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.

War. Tush! that was but his fancy: blame him

not:

I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.

York. And, if I wist,1 he did,—But let it rest; Other affairs must now be managed.

[Exeunt York, Warwick, and Vernon.

1 Thought.

Exe. 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,1 when sceptres are in children's hands; But more, when envy breeds unkind division;

There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

France. Before Bourdeaux.

Enter TALBOT, with his forces.

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

Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter, on the walls,
GENERAL of the French forces, and others.

English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry king of England;
And thus he would;-Open your city gates;

It is strange.

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.

Gen. 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,

i. e: to drive or direct.'--Johnson.

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