ACT IV. SCENE I. 1

PARIS. Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerfet, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, and Governor of Paris.

Glou.

ORD Bishop, fet the crown upon his head.
Win.God fave King Henry, of that name the Sixth!
Glou. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,
That you elect no other King but him;

Efteem none friends but fuch as are his friends,
And none your foes, but fuch as fhall pretend
Malicious practices against his ftate.

This fhall ye do, fo help you righteous God!
*Enter Falftaff.

Fal. My gracious Sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To hafte unto your coronation,

A letter was deliver'd to my hands,

Writ to your Grace from th' Duke of Burgundy.
Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!
I vow'd, bafe Knight, when I did meet thee next,
To tear the garter from thy craven leg,
Which I have done; becaufe unworthily
Thou waft inftalled in that high degree.
Pardon, my Princely Henry, and the reft:
This daftard, at the battle of Poitiers,
When but in all I was fix thousand ftrong,
And that the French were almost ten to one;
Before we met, or that a ftroke was given,
Like to a trufty 'fquire did run away.
In which affault we loft twelve hundred men,
My felf and divers gentlemen befide
Were there furpriz'd and taken prisoners.
Then judge, great Lords, if I have done amiss;
Or whether that fuch cowards ought to wear
This ornament of knighthood, yea or no?

Glou. To fay the truth, this fact was infamous,

And ill befeeming any common man ;

Much more a Knight, a captain, and a leader.
Tal. When firft this order was ordain'd, my Lords,
Knights of the garter were of noble birth,

* S.e the note on the fifth Scene of Act

Valiant

Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
Not fearing death, nor fhrinking for distress,
But always refolute in worst extreams.
He then that is not furnifh'd in this fort
Doth but ufurp the facred name of Knight,
Prophaning this most honourable order;
And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
That doth prefume to boast of gentle blood.

K. Henry. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'ft thy doom,
Be packing therefore thou that wast a Knight;
Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death.
And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter

Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.

[Exit Fal.

Glcu. What means his Grace that he hath chang'd his ftile?

No more but plain and bluntly, To the King.
Hath he forgot he is his Sovereign?

[Reading.

Or doth this churlish fuperfcription

Portend fome alteration in good will?

What's here? I bave upon efpecial caufe,

[Reads.

Mov'd with compaffion of my country's wreck,

Together with the pitiful complaints

of fuch as your oppreffion feeds upon,

Forfaken your pernicious faction,

And joined with Charles the rightful King of France.
O monftrous treachery! can this be fo?

That in alliance, amity, and oaths,

There fhould be found fuch falfe diffembling guile ?
K. Henry. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
Glou. He doth, my Lord, and is become our foe.
K. Henry. Is that the worst this letter doth contain ?
Glou. It is the worst, and all, my Lord, he writes.
K. Henry. Why then Lord Talbot there fhall talk with him,
And give him chastisement for this abuse.

My Lord, how fay you, are you not content?

Tal. Content, my Liege? yes. but that I'm prevented, I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.

K. Henry. Then gather ftrength, and march unto him ftrait: Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason,

And

And what offence it is to flout his friends.

Tal. I go, my Lord, in heart defiring ftill

You may behold confufion of your foes. [Exit Talbot.
SCENE II. Enter Vernon and Baffet.
Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious Sovereign.
Baf. And me, my Lord, grant me the combat too.
York. This is my fervant, hear him, noble Prince.
Som. And this is mine, fweet Henry, favour him.
K. Henry. Be patient, Lords, and give them leave to speak.
Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim?
And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?
Ver. With him, my Lord, for he hath done me wrong.
Baf. And I with him, for he hath done me wrong.
K. Henry. What is the wrong whereon you both complain?
Firft let me know, and then I'll anfwer you.

Baf. Croffing the fea from England into France,
This fellow here with fharp and carping tongue
Upbraided me about the rofe I wear;
Saying the fanguine colour of the leaves
Did reprefent my mafter's blufhing cheeks
When ftubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain queftion in the law,
Argu'd 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.

Ver. And that is my petition, noble Lord;
For though he feem with forged quaint conceit
To fet a glofs upon his bold intent,

Yet know, my Lord, I was provok'd by him,
And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing that the palenefs of this flow'r
Bewray'd the faintnefs of my mafter's heart.
York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne'er fo cunningly you fmother it.

K. Henry. Good Lord! what madness rules in brain-fick

When for fo flight and frivolous a cause
Such factious emulations fhall arife!
Good coufins both of York and Somerset,

[men!

Quiet

Quiet your felves and be again at peace.

York. Let this diffention firft be try'd by fight,
And then your Highness shall command a peace.
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone,
Betwixt our felves let us decide it then.
York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerfet.
Ver. Nay, let it reft where it began at firft.
Baf. Confirm it fo, mine honourable Lord.
Glou. Confirm it fo? confounded be your strife,
And perish ye with your audacious prate!
Prefumptuous vaffals, are you not asham'd
With this immodeft clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the King and us?
And you, my Lords, methinks you do not well
To bear with their perverfe objections:
Much lefs to take occafion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt your felves:

Let me perfuade you take a better courfe.

Exe. It grieves his Highness: good my Lords, be friends,
K. Henry. 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 diffention in our looks,
And that within our felves we difagree,
How will their grudging ftomachs be provok'd
To wilful disobedience, and rebel !
Befide, what infamy will there arife,
When foreign Princes fhall be certify'd,
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's Peers and chief Nobility

Destroy'd themselves, and loft the realm of France!
O, think upon the conqueft of my father,

My tender years, and let us not forego

That for a trifle, which was bought with blood.
Let me be umpire in this doubtful ftrife:
I fee no reafon, if I wear this rofe,
That any one should therefore be fufpicious
I more encline to Somerfet than York:

Both

Both are my kinfmen, and I love them both.
As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
Becaufe, forfooth, the King of Scots is crown'd.
But your difcretions better can perfuade,

Than I am able to inftruct or teach :
And therefore as we hither came in peace,
So let us ftill continue peace and love.
Coufin of York, we inftitute 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 fubjects, fons of your progenitors,
Go chearfully together, and digeft

Your angry choler on your enemies.

Our felf, my Lord Protector, and the reft,
After fome refpite will return to Calais;

From thence to England, where I hope ere long
To be prefented, by your victories,

With Charles, Alanson, and that trait'rous rout. [Flourish.

[Exeunt Manent York, Warwick, Exeter, and Vernon. War. My Lord of York, I promife you the King Moft prettily, methought, did play the orator. York. And fo he did; but yet I like it not, In that he wears the badge of Somerset.

War. Tufh, that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare prefume, fweet Prince, he thought no harm. York. An if I wis, he did.

Other affairs must now be managed.

But let it reft;

[Exeunt.

Manet Exeter.

Exe. Well didft thou, Richard, to fupprefs thy voice:

For had the paffions of thy heart burst out,

I fear we should have feen decypher'd there

More ranc'rous fpight, more furious raging broils,

Than yet can be imagin'd or fuppos'd.

But howfoe'er, no fimple man that fees
This jarring difcord of Nobility,

This fhould'ring of each other in the Court,
This factious bandying of their favourites;
But that he doth prefage fome ill event.