And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,'
Nestor-like aged, in an age of care,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.

spent,

Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent:2

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.

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

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.

Enter Richard Plantagenet.

1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now

come.

is

Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend? Is he come?

Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your nephew, late-despised Richard, comes. Mor. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: O, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,

Why didst thou say-of late thou wert despis'd?

Plan. First, lean thine aged back against 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 used 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:
The refore, 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 head.
Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me,
And hath detain'd me, all my flow'ring youth,
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was cursed instrument of his decease.

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 politic
Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,
And, like a mountain, not to be remov'd.
But now thy uncle is removing hence;
As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd
With long continuance in a settled place.

Plan. Ö, uncle, 'would some part of my young

[Dies.

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,

(1) The heralds that, fore-running death, proclaim its approach.

(2) End.

(3) c. He who terminates or concludes misery.

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. [Exil

(4) Lately-despised. (5) Uneasiness, discontert (6) High. (7) Thinking. (8) Lucky, prosperous. (9) My ill, is my ill usage.

ACT III. SCENE L-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 commands
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 dissentious 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;
In that tho. laid'st a trap to take my life,
As well at London-bridge, as at the Tower?
Besides, 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, vouchsafe
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 dissention, Who preferreth peace
More than I do,-except I be provok'd?
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
It is not that, that hath incens'd the duke:
It is, because no one should sway but he;
No one, but he, should be about the king;
And that engenders thunder in his breast,
And makes him roar these accusations forth.
But he shall know, I am as good-

Glo.

As good?

Thou bastard of my grandfather!
Win. Ay, lordly sir; For what are you, I 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

[Aside

War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should; Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue, Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Else would I have a fling at Winchester. 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 dissention 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 contráry 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 ana
Winchester, with bloody pates.

K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife."

1 Serv. Nay, if we be

Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish

broil,

And set this unaccustom'd2 fight aside.

3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man 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,3
We, and our wives, and children, all will fight,
And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.

1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field, when we are dead.

[Skirmish aga Stay, stay, I say!

Glo.
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,

(3) This was a term of reproach towards mes of learning.

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, I 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.1

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;
Love for thy love, and hand for hand, I give.
Glo. Ay; but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.-
See here, my friends, and loving countrymen ;
This token serveth for a flag of truce,
Betwixt ourselves, and all our followers:
So help me God, as I dissemble not!

Win. So help me God, as I intend it not!

[Aside. 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 I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet We do exhibit to your majesty.

Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick: for, sweet prince,

An 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.

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

Glo. Now it will 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.
Exe. 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 name 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.

[Exit.

Enter

SCENE II.-France. Before Rouen. La Pucelle disguised, and Soldiers dressed like countrymen, with sacks upon their backs.

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,)
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 là ?
Puc. Paissans, pauvres gens de France:

force:

Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is,
That Richard be restored to his blood.

War. Let Richard be restored to his blood;
So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd.

Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. K. Hen. 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. Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience, And humble service, till the point of death. K. Hen. Stoop then, and set your knee against my foot;

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.

Plan. And so thrive Richard, as thy foes may 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!

(1) Feels an emotion of kind remorse.
72 Recompense.

Guard. Enter, go in; the market-bell is rung. [Opens the gates. 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 practisants;" Now she is there, how will she specify Where is the best and safest passage in?

Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower, Which, once discern'd, shows, that her mearing is, No way to that, for weakness, which she enter❜d. Enter La Pucelle on a battlement: holding out a torch burning.

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

Bast. See, noble Charles! the beacon of our friend,

The burning torch in yonder turret stands.

() Confederates in stratagems.
i. e. No way equal to that.

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.

you.

bread?

I think, the duke of Burgundy will fast

Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
'Twas full of darnel; Do you like the taste?

Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless court

ezan.

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. 9, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!

Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,

And run a tilt at death within a chair?

Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encor pass'd with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his vauant age, And twit with cowardice a man half dead? Dameel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with unis shame. Puc. Are you so hot, sir?-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? 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 Hecaté,
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 foot-boys 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.God be wi' you my lord! we came, sir, but to tell you

that we are here.

But gather we our forces out of hand,
And set upon our boasting enemy.

[Exeunt Burgundy, Talbot, and forces, leat
ing Bedford, and others.

Retreat: Excursions. Enter from the town, La Pucelle, Alençon, Charles, &c.; and exeunt flying.

Bed. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please; For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. What is the trust or strength of foolish man? They, that of late were daring with their scoffs, Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.

[Dies, and is carried off in his chair

Alarum: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and others. Tal. Lost, and recover'd in a day again! This is a double honour, Burgundy: Yet, heavens have glory for this victory!

Bur. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy Enshrines thee in his heart; and there erects Thy noble deeds, as valour's monument.

Tal. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pu celle now?

I think her old familiar is asleep:
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles ha
gleeks??

What, all a-mort?3 Rouen hangs her head for grief,
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers;
And then depart to Paris, to the king;
For there young Harry, with his nobles, lies.

Bur. What wills lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy
Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But see his exequies fulfill'd in Roŭen;

(4) Make some necessary dispositions. (5) Funeral rites.