1 Serv. Nay, if we be forbidden ftones, we'll fall to it with our teeth.

2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as refolute.

Skirmish again. Glou. You of my houfhold, leave this peevish broil; And fet this unaccuftom'd fight afide.

3 Serv. My lord, we know your Grace to be a man Juft and upright; and for your royal birth Inferior to none but to his Majesty:

And ere that we will fuffer fuch a Prince,
So kind a father of the Common-weal,
To be difgraced by an Inkhorn mate;
We, and our wives, and children, all will fight;
And have our bodies flaughter'd by thy foes.

1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field, when we are dead. [Begin again. Glou. Stay, ftay, I fay;

And if you love me, as you say you do,
Let me perfuade you to forbear awhile.

K. Henry. O, how this difcord doth afflict my foul!
Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold
My fighs and tears, and will not once relent?
Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
Or who should ftudy to prefer a peace,
If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
War. My lord Protector, yield: yield, Winchester;
Except you mean with obftinate repulfe

To flay your fov'reign, and destroy the Realm.
Ye fee, what mifchief, and what murder too,
Hath been enacted thro' your cnmity:
Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.
Win. He fhall fubmit, or I will never yield.
Glou. Compaflion on the King commands me ftoop;
Or I would fee his heart out, ere the priest
Should ever get that privilege of me.

War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the Duke
Hath banish'd moody difcontented fury,

As by his smoothed brows it doth

appear. Why look you ftill fo ftern and tragical? Glou. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.

K. Henry. Fie, uncle Beauford: I have heard you preach,

That malice was a great and grievous fin:

And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
But prove a chief offender in the fame?

War. Sweet King! the Bishop hath a kindly gird:
For fhame, my lord of Winchester, relent;
What, fhall a child inftruct you what to do?
Win. Well, Duke of Glofter, I will yield to thee;
Love for thy love, and hand for hand, I give.
Glou. Ay, but I fear me, with a hollow heart.
See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
This token ferveth for a flag of truce

Betwixt ourselves, and all our followers:
So help me God, as I diffemble not!

Win. [Afide.] So help me God, as I intend it not! K. Henry. O loving uncle, gentle Duke of Glofter, How joyful am I made by this contract!

Away, my mafters, trouble us no more;
But join in friendship, as your lords have done.
1 Serv. Content, I'll to the furgeon's.

2 Serv. So will I.

3 Serv. And I'll fee what phyfic the tavern affords.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

II.

War. CCEPT this fcrowl, moft gracious Sove

A reign,

Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet

We do exhibit to your Majefty.

Glou. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick; For, fweet

Prince,

An if your Grace mark ev'ry circumftance,

You have great reafon to do Richard right:

Esp ›

,

Efpecially, for those occafions

At Eltham-place I told your Majefty.

K. Henry. And those occafions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, That Richard be restored to his blood.

War. Let Richard be restored to his blood,
So fhall his father's wrongs be recompens'd.
Win. As will the reft, fo willeth Winchester.
K. Henry. If Richard will be true, not that alone,
But all the whole inheritance I give,

That doth belong unto the house of York;
From whence you spring by lineal Descent.
Rich Thy humble fervant vows obedience,
And faithful fervice, till the point of death.

K. Henry. Stoop, then, and fet your knee against
my foot.

And in reguerdon of that duty done,

I gird thee with the valiant fword of York.

Rife, Richard, like a true Plantagenet,

And rife created Princely Duke of York.

Rich. And fo thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall! And as my duty springs, so perish they, That grudge one thought against your Majefty! All. Welcome, high Prince, the mighty Duke of York! Som. Perish, bafe Prince, ignoble Duke of York!

[Afide.

Glou. Now will it beft avail your Majefty
To cross the feas, and to be crown'd in France:
The Prefence of a King engenders love

Amongst his fubjects and his loyal friends,
As it difanimates his enemies.

[goes;

K. Henry. When Glo'fler fays the word, King Henry

For friendly counfel cuts off many foes.

Glou. Your fhips already are in readinefs. [Exeunt.

Manet Exeter.

Exe. Ay, we may march in England or in France,

Not fecing what is likely to enfue;

This late diffention, grown betwixt the peers,
Burns under feigned afhes of forg'd love;
And will at laft break out into a flame,
As fefter'd members rot but by degrees,
'Till bones, and flesh, and finews, fall away;
So will this bafe and envious difcord breed.
And now I fear that fatal Prophecy,

Which in the time of Henry, nam'd the Fifth,
Was in the mouth of every fucking babe;
That Henry, born at Monmouth, fhould win all;
And Henry, born at Windfor, fhould lofe all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter dọth wish,
His days may finifh ere that hapless time.

[Exit.

Enter Joan la Pucelle difguis'd, and four Soldiers with Sacks upon their backs.

Pucel. THESE are the city-gates, the gates of

THES

Roan,

Thro' which our policy must make a breach.
Take heed, be wary, how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar fort of market-men,
That come to gather money for their corn.
If we have entrance, (as, I hope, we fhall;)
And that we find the flothful Watch but weak,
I'll by a fign give notice to our friends;
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
Sol. Our facks fhall be a mean to fack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;

Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Qui va là?

Pucel Puifans, pauvres gens de France.

[Knocks.

Poor market-folks, that come to fell their corn.
Watch. Enter, go in, the market-bell is rung.

Pucel. Now, Roan, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.

[Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanfon.
Dau. St. Dennis blefs this happy ftratagem!
And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.
Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practisants:
Now he is there, how will the specify
Where is the best and safest paffage in?

Reig. By thrufting out a torch from yonder tow'r, Which, once difcern'd, fhews, that her meaning is, No way to that (for weakness) which fhe enter'd.

Enter Joan la Pucelle on the top, thrufting out a torch burning.

Pucel. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, That joineth Roan unto her countrymen; But burning fatal to the Talbotites.

Baft. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend, The burning torch in yonder turret ftands.

Dau. Now fhines it like a comet of revenge,

A prophet to the fall of all our foes.

Reig. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; Enter and cry, The Dauphin! presently,

And then do execution on the Watch.

[An Alarm; Talbot in an Excurfion.

Tal. France, thou fhalt rue this treafon with thy

If Talbot but furvive thy treachery.

Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs.

That hardly we efcap'd the pride of France.

Hath wrought this hellish mifchief unawares ;

[Lears.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

An alarm: Excurfions. Bedford brought in, fick, in a chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy, without; within, Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Baflard, and Reignier,

on the walls.

Pucel.

GOOD-morrow, gallants, want ye corn

I think, the Duke of Burgundy will faft,

Before