Mess. Madam, it is. Count.

Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes?
I see report is fabulous and false:

I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspect,
And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf:
It cannot be, this weak and writhled shrimp
Should strike such terror to his enemies.
Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But, since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I'll sort some other time to visit you.
Count What means he now?-Go ask him
whither he goes.

Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady

craves

To know the cause of your abrupt departure. Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, go to certify her, Talbot's here.

Re-enter Porter, with Keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Tal. Prisoner! to whom? Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord;| And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my gallery thy picture hangs; But now the substance shall endure the like; And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, That hast by tyranny, these many years, Wasted our country, slain our citizens, And sent our sons and husbands captivate. Tal. Ha, ha, ha!

Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall

turn to moan.

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond, To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow,

Whereon to practise your severity.
Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal
I am indeed.
Count. Then have I substance too.
Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceiv'd, my substance not here;
For what you see, is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity:

I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,
Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.

Count. This is a riddling merchant for the

nonce;

He will be here, and yet he is not here;
How can these contrarieties agree?
Tal. That will I show you presently.
He winds a Horn Drums heard; then a Peci
of ordnance. The Gates being forced, enter
Soldiers.

How say you, madam? are you now persuaded,
That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
These are his substance, sinews, arms, and
strength,

With which he yoketh your rebellions necks;
Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns,
And in a moment makes them desolate.

Count Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse: I find, thou art no less than fame hath bruited, And more than may be gather'd by thy shape. Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath; For I am sorry, that with reverence

I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor mis

construe

The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done, hath not offended me:
No other satisfaction do I crave,

Taste of your wine, and see what cates you
But only (with your patience) that we may

have;

For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
Count. With all my heart: and think me ho-
noured
To feast so great a warrior in my house.

[Exeunt.

truth;

Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in the error?
Suff. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law;
And never yes could frame my will to it;
And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.
Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then
between us.

War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,

Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, Between two blades, which bears the better temper,

Between two horses, which doth bear him best, Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye, I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judg

ment;

But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbear

ance;

The truth appears so naked on my side,
That any purblind eye might find it out.
Som. And on my side, it is so well apparell'd,
So clear, so shining, and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
Plan. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and so loath
to speak.

In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
Let him, that is a true-born gentleman,
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.
Som. Let him that is no coward, nor no flat-

terer,

But dare maintain the party of the truth,
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
War. I love no colours; and, without all
colour

Of base insinuating flattery,

I pluck this white rose, with Plantagenet.
Suff. I pluck this red rose, with young Somer-

set;

And say withal, I think he held the right.
Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen; and pluck no

more,

Till you conclude that he, upon whose side
The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree,
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
Som. Good master Vernon, it is well objected;
If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.

Plan. And I.

Ver. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case,

I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
Giving my verdict on the white rose side.

Som Prick not your finger as you pluck it off; Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red, And fall on my side so against your will.

Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, And keep me on the side where still I am. Som. Well, well, come on: Who else? Law. Unless my study and my books be false, The argument you held, was wrong in you; [To Somerset. In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument?

Som. Here, in my scabbard; meditating that, Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red. Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit

ing roses,

That shall maintain what I have said is true,
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my
hand,

I scorn thee and thy faction, peevish boy.
Suff. Turn not thy scorns this way, Planta-
genet.

Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and thee.

Suff. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William De-la-Poole! We grace the yeoman, by conversing with him. War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset ;

His grandfather was Lionel, duke of Clarence,
Third son to the third Edward, king of England;
Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,
Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.
Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my
words

On any plot of ground in Christendom:
Was not thy father, Richard, earl of Cambridge,
For treason executed in our late king's days?
And, by his treason, stand'st not thon attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry 7
His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
And, till thou be restor'd, thou art a yeoman.
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted;
Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,

Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partaker Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this apprehension:
Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd.
Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still
And know us, by these colours, for thy foes;
For these my friends, in spite of thee, shall wear.
Plan. And, by my soul, this pale and angry

rose,

As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
Will I for ever, and my faction, wear;
Until it wither with me to my grave,
Or flourish to the height of my degree.
Suff. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy am-
bition!

And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [Exit.
Som. Have with thee, Poole.-Farewell, am-
bitious Richard.
[Exit.

Plan. How I am brav'd, and must perforce endure it!

War. This blot, that they object against your house,

Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloster:
And, if thou be not then created York,

I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Mean time, in signal of my love to thee,
Against proud Somerset, and William Poole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rose:
And here I prophecy,-This brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden,
Shall send, between the red rose and the white,
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Plan. Good master Vernon, I am bound to you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same.
Law. And so will I.

Plan. Thanks, gentle sir.

Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say,
This quarrel will drink blood another day.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. The same. A Room in the Tower. Enter Mortimer, brought in a Chair by two Keepers.

Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.-
Even like a man new haled from the rack,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment:
And these gray locks, the pursuivants of death,
Nestor-like aged, in an age of care
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
These eyes,-like lamps whose wasting oil is
spent,-

Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent:
Weak shoulders, overborne with burd'ning grief,
And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine
That droops his sapless branches to the ground:-
Yet are these feet-whose strengthless stay is
numb,

Unable to support this lump of clay,-
Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
As witting I no other comfort have.-
But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
1 Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will

come:

We sent unto the Temple, to his chamber;
And answer was return'd that he will come.
Mor. Enough; my soul shall then be satisfied.-
Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign
(Before whose glory I was great in arms,)
This loathsome sequestration have I had;
And even since then hath Richard been obscur❜d,
Deprived of honour and inheritance:
But now, the arbitrator of despairs,
Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence;
I would, his troubles likewise were expir'd,
That so he might recover what was lost.

mine arm;

And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.
This day, in argument upon a case,
Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me:
Among which terms he us'd his lavish tongue,
And did upbraid me with my father's death;
Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
Else with the like I had requited him:
Therefore, good uncle,-for my father's sake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,

And for alliance' sake,-declare the cause
My father, earl of Cambridge, lost his nead.
Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd

was;

For I am ignorant, and cannot guess.

Mor. I will; if that my fading breath permit, And death approach not ere my tale be done. Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, Depos'd his nephew Richard; Edward's son, The first begotten, and the lawful heir Of Edward king, the third of that descent: During whose reign, the Percies of the north, Finding his usurpation most unjust,

Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne:
The reason mov'd these warlike lords to this,
Was-for that (young King Richard thus re-
mov'd,

Leaving no heir begotten of his body)
I was the next by birth and parentage;
For by my mother I derived am

From Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son
To King Edward the Third, whereas he
From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
Being but fourth of that heroick line.
But mark; as, in this haughty great attempt,
They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
I lost my liberty, and they their lives.
Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,-
Succeeding his father Bolingbroke,-did reign,
Thy father, earl of Cambridge,-then deriv'd
From famous Edmund Langley, duke of York,
Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
Again, in pity of my hard distress,
Levied an army; weening to redeem,
And have install'd me in the diadem:"
But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,
And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
In whom the title rested, were suppress'd.
Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the
last.

Mor. True; and thou seest, that I no issue have;

And that my fainting words do warrant death:
Thou art my heir; the rest, I wish thee gather:
But yet be wary in thy studious care.
Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with

me:

But yet, methinks, my father's execution
Was nothing less than bloody tyranny
Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politick;
Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,

In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage,
And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.-
Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
And what I do imagine, let that rest.—
Keepers, convey him hence; and I myself
Will see his burial better than his life.

Exeunt Keepers, bearing out Mortimer.
Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
Chok'd with ambition of the meaner sort :-
And, for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house,
I doubt not, but with honour to redress:
And therefore haste I to the parliament;
Either to be restored to my blood,

Or make my ill, the advantage of my good.

ACT III.

[Eril

SCENE I. The same. The Parliament House. Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Gloster, Warwick, Somerset, and Suffolk; the Bishop of Winchester, Richard Plantagenet, and others. Gloster offers to put up a Bill: Winchester snatches it, and tears it.

Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines,

With written pamphlets studiously devis'd,
Humphrey of Gloster? if thou canst accuse,
Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge,
Do it without invention suddenly;
As I with sudden and extemporal speech
Purpose to answer what thou canst object.
Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place com-
mands my patience,

Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd

me.

Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able
Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen:
No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissensious pranks,
As very infants prattle of thy pride.
Thou art a most pernicious usurer;
Froward by nature, enemy to peace;
Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
A man of thy profession, and degree;
And for thy treachery, What's more manifest 7
In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
As well at London Bridge, as at the Tower?
Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
Win. Gloster, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouch
safe

To give me hearing what I shall reply.
If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse,
As he will have me, How am I so poor ?
Or how haps it, I seek not to advance
Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling"
And for dissension, Who preferreth peace
More than I do,-except I be provok❜d 7

pray,

But one imperious in another's throne?

Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest?
Win. And am I not a prelate of the church?
Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps,
And useth it to patronage his theft.
Win. Unreverent Gloster!
Glo.

Thou art reverent
Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
Win. This Rome shall remedy."
War.
Roam thither then.
Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear.
War. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne.
Som. Methinks, my lord should be religious,
And know the office that belongs to such.
War. Methinks his lordship should be hum-
bler;

It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.

Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so

near.

War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king?

Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue; Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should! Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

[Aside. K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal; I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown, That two such noble peers as ye, should jar! Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell, Civil dissension is a viperous worm, That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.[A noise within; Down with the tawny coats! What tumult's this? War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop's men. [A noise again; Stones! Stones! Enter the Mayor of London, attended. May. O, my good lords,-and virtuous Henry,

Pity the city of London, pity us!

The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men,
Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones;
And, banding themselves in contrary parts,
Do pelt so fast at one another's pate,

That many have their giddy brains knock'd

out :

Our windows are broke down in every street, And we, for fear, compell'd to shut our shops. Enter, skirmishing, the Retainers of Gloster and Winchester, with bloody pates.

Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,
Inferior to none, but his majesty:

And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
So kind a father of the commonweal,

To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,
We, and our wives, and children, all will fight,
And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.
2 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails,
Shall pitch a field, when we are dead.
[Skirmish again.
Glo.
Stay, stay, I say!
And, if you love me, as you say you do,
Let me persuade you to forbear a while.
K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my
soul!

Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold
My sighs and tears, and will not once relent?
Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
Or who should study to prefer a peace,
If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
War. My lord protector, yield;-yield Win-
chester;

Except you mean with obstinate repulse,
To slay your sovereign, and destroy the realm.
You see what mischief, and what murder too,
Hath been enacted through your enmity;
Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.
Win. He shall submit, or I will never yield.
Glo. Compassion on the king commands me
stoop;

Or, I would see 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 discontented fury,
As by his smoothed brows it doth appear:
Why look you still so stern, and tragical?
Glo. Here, Winchester, l'offer thee my hand.
K. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard

you preach,

That malice was a great and grievous sin :
And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
But prove a chief offender in the same?

War. Sweet king !-the bishop hath a kindly gird.

For shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; What, shall a child instruct you what to do? Win. Well, duke of Gloster, I will yield to

thee;

K. Hen. O, loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, How joyful am I made by this contract !— Away, my masters! trouble us no more; But join in friendship, as your lords have done. 1 Serv. Content; I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv.

And so will 1. 3 Serv. And I will see what physick the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign;

Which, in the right of Richard Plantagenet, do exhibit to your majesty. Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick;-for, sweet prince,

And if your grace mark every circumstance,
You have great reason to do Richard right:
Especially, for those occasions

At Eltham-place I told your majesty,
K. Hen. And those occasions, 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;

man

Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester

Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder

tower;

And, in reguerdon of that duty done,

I girt thee with the valiant sword of York; Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet; And rise created princely duke of York.

is,

No way to that, for weakness, which she enter❜d. Enter La Pucelle on a Battlement; holding out a Torch burning.

Pur. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen : But burning fatal to the Talbotites.

fall!

And as my duty springs, so perish they
That grudge one thought against your majesty!
All. Welcome, high prince, the mighty duke
of York!

Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of
York.
[Aside.

Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, To cross the seas, and to be crown'd in France: The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his loyal friends; As it disanimates his enemies.

K. Hen. When Gloster says the word, King
Henry goes;

For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
Glo. Your ships already are in readiness.
[Exeunt all but Exeter.
Ere. Ay, we may march in England, or in
France,

Not seeing what is likely to ensue :
This late dissension, grown betwixt the peers,
Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love,
And will at last break out into a flame:
As fester'd members rot but by degrees,
Till bones, and flesh, and sinews, fall away,
So will this base and envious discord breed.
And now I fear that fatal prophecy,
Which, in the time of Henry, nam'd the fifth,
Was in the mouth of every sucking babe,-
That Henry, born at Monmouth, should win all;
And Henry, born at Windsor, should lose all :
Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish
His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Erit.

Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,

Through which our policy must make a breach: Take heed, be wary how you place your words; Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men, That come to gather money for their corn. If we have entrance, (as, I hope, we shall,) f And that we find the slothful watch but weak, I'll by a sign give notice to our friends, That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. 1 Sold. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,

And we be lords and rulers over Rouen;" Therefore we'll knock. [Knocks.

Guard. [Within.] Qui est la? Puc. Paisans, pauvres gens de France: Poor market folks, that come to sell their corn. Guard. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung. [Opens the Gate. Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Pucelle, &c. enter the City. Enter Charles, Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, and Forces.

Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem! And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen. Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practi

friend,

The burning torch in yonder turret stands.
Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge,
A prophet to the fall of all our foes!
Alen. Defer no time, Delays have dangerous
ends,

Enter, and cry-The Dauphin !-presently,
And then do execution on the watch.

[They enter.

Alarums. Enter Talbot, and certain English.
Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with
thy tears,
If Talbot but survive thy treachery.-
Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress,
Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
That hardly we escap'd the pride of France.
[Exeunt to the Town.

Alarum: Excursions. Enter from the Town
Bedford, brought in sick in a Chair, with
Talbot, Burgundy, and the English Forces.
Then, enter on the Walls, La Pucelle,
Charles, Bastard, Alençon, and others.
Puc. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn
for bread?

Ithink, the Duke of Burgundy will fast,
Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
'Twas full of darnel; Do you like the taste 7
Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless cour
tesan;

I trust, ere long, to choke thee with thine own, And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. Char. Your grace may starve, perhaps, before that time.

Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this Puc. What will you do, good gray-beard?

treason!

break a lance,

And run a tilt at death within a chair?
Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all
despite,

Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age,
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
Puc. Are you so hot, sir 7-Yet, Pucelle, hold
thy peace;

If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
[Talbot, and the rest, consult together.
God speed the parliament! who shall be the
speaker 7

Tal. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field ?

Puc. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,

To try if that our own be ours, or no.
Tal. I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest;
Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
Alen. Signior, no.

Tal. Signior, hang!-base muleteers of France!
Like peasant footboys do they keep the walls,
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.
Puc. Captains, away: let's get us from the
walls;

For Talbot means no goodness, by his looks.