Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered.
Care is no cure, but rather corrofive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
Let frantick Talbot triumph for a while;
And, like a Peacock, fweep along his tail:
We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
If Dauphin and the reft will be but rul'd.
Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence.
One fudden foil fhall never breed diftruft.

Baft. Search out thy wit for fecret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
Alan. We'll fet thy ftatue in fome holy place,
And have thee reverenc'd like a bleffed Saint.
Employ thee then, fweet virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be, this doth Joan devife:
By fair perfuafions mixt with fugar'd words,
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy

To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Dau. Ay, marry, fweeting, if we could do That, France were no place for Henry's warriors; Nor fhall that Nation boaft it fo with us,

But be extirped from our provinces.

Alan. For ever fhould they be expuls'd from France, And not have title of an Earldom here.

Pucel. Your honours fhall perceive how I will work, To bring this matter to the wifhed end.

[Drum beats afar off. Hark, by the found of drum you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

[Here beat an English March. There goes the Talbot with his Colours fpread, And all the troops of English after him. [French March. Now, in the rereward, comes the Duke and his : Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind. Summon a parley, we will talk with him.

[Trumpets found a parley.

Enter the Duke of Burgundy marching.

Dan. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy.
Burg. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

Pucel.

Pucel. The princely Charles of France, thy country

man.

[hence. Burg. What fayft thou, Charles? for I am marching Dau. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble hand-maid fpeak to thee. Burg. Speak on, but be not over-tedious.

Pucel. Look on thy country, look on fertile France;
And fee the cities, and the towns defac'd
By wafting ruin of the cruel foe.

As looks the mother on her lowly babe,
When death doth close his tender dying eyes;
See, fee the pining malady of France.

Behold the wounds, the most unnat'ral wounds,
Which thou thy felf haft giv'n her woful breast.
Oh, turn thy edged fword another way;

Strike thofe that hurt; and hurt not thofe that help:
One drop of blood, drawn from thy country's bofom,
Should grieve thee more than ftreams of common gore;
Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country's ftained spots.

Burg. Either he hath bewitch'd me with her words, Or nature makes me fuddenly relent.

Pucel. Befides, all French and France exclaim on thee; Doubting thy birth, and lawful progeny.

Whom join'st thou with, but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit's fake?
When Talbot hath fet footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that inftrument of Ill;
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thruft out like a fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof;
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was not he in England prifoner ?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They fet him free without his ransom paid;
In fpight of Burgundy, and all his friends.
See then, thou fight'it against thy countrymen ;
And join'ft with them, will be thy flaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wand'ring lord;
Charles, and the reft will take thee in their arms.

Burg.

Burg. I'm vanquished. These haughty words of hers Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-fhot, 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 pow'r of men are yours. So farewel, Talbot, I'll no longer trust thee.

Pacel. Done, like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again !-Dau. Welcome, brave Duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.

Baft. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Alan. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deserve a Coronet of gold.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to PARIS.

Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerfet, Warwick, Exeter, &c. To them Talbot, with his foldiers.

Tal.

Y gracious Prince, and honourable Peers,
Hearing of your arrival in this realm,

I have a while giv'n truce unto my wars,

To do my duty to my Sovereign.

In fign whereof, this arm (that hath reclaim'd

To your obedience fifty fortreffes,

Twelve cities, and fev'n walled towns of ftrength,
Befide five hundred prisoners of esteem ;)

Lets fall the fword before your Highness' feet:
And with fubmiffive loyalty of heart
Afcribes the glory of his Conquest got,

First to my God, and next unto your Grace.

K. Henry. Is this the fam'd lord Talbot, uncle Glofter, That hath fo long been refident in France?

Glou. Yes, if it please your Majefty, my Liege. K. Henry. Welcome, brave Captain, and victorious lord. When I was young, (as yet I am not old) I do remember how my father faid, A ftouter champion never handled sword.

Long

Long fince we were refolved of your truth,
Your faithful fervice and your toil in war;
Yet never have you tafted your reward,
Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks,
Because 'till now we never faw your face :
Therefore stand up, and, for thefe good deferts,
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury,
And in our Coronation take your place.

Manent Vernon and Baffet.

[Exeunt.

Ver. Now, Sir, to you that were so hot at fea, Difgracing of these colours that I wear

In honour of my noble lord of York;

Dar'ft thou maintain the former words thou spak'ft ?
Baf. Yes, Sir, as well as you dare patronage
The envious barking of your fawcy tongue
Against my lord, the Duke of Somerset.
Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
Baf. Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
Ver. Hark ye; not fo: in witness, take you that.
[Strikes him.
Baf. Villain, thou know'ft, the law of arms is fuch,
That, whofo draws a fword, 'tis present death ;
Or elfe this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
But I'll unto his Majefty, and crave

I may have liberty to venge this wrong;

When thou shalt fee, I'll meet thee to thy coft.

Ver. Well, mifcreant, I'll be there as foon as you; And, after, meet you fooner than you would. [Exeunt.

VOL. IV.

T

ACT

ACTIV.

SCENE,

PARIS.

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

L

GLOUCESTER.

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 state.

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

Faft. 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, base Knight, when I did meet thee next,
To tear the Garter from thy craven leg,
Which I have done; becaufe unworthily
Thou waft installed in that high degree.
Pardon, my Princely Henry, and the rest:
This daftard, at the battle of Poitiers,
When but in all I was fix thousand strong,
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 lost twelve hundred men ;

My