Glou. You of my houfhold, leave this peevish broil; And fet this unaccustom'd fight aside.

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.

[Begin again.

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

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

my

K. Henry. O, how this difcord doth afflict
Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold
My fighs and tears, and will not once relent?
Who fhould be pitiful, if you be not?
Or who should study to prefer a peace,

If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

foul!

War. My lord Protector, yield: yield, Winchester ; Except you mean with obftinate repulse

To flay your Soveraign, and destroy the Realm.
You fee, what mischief, and what murther too,
Hath been enacted thro' your enmity :

Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.
Win. He fhall fubmit, or I will never yield.

Glou. Compaffion on the King commands me ftoop;

/Or I would fee his heart out, ere the priest

Should ever get that priviledge of me.

War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the Duke

Hath banish'd moody difcontented fury,

As by his fmoothed brows it doth appear.

Why look you still 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

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

War. Sweet King! the Bifhop hath a kindly gird:
For fhame, my lord of Winchester, relent;
What, fhall a child instruct you what to do?
Win. Well, Duke of Glo'fter, 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 our felves, 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 masters, 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 phyfick the tavern affords.

[Exeunt. War. Accept this fcrowl, moft gracious Soveraign, 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:

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 fpring by lineal defcent.

K 4

Rich.

Rich. Thy humble fervant vows obedience, And faithful fervice, till the point of death.

[foot,

K. Henry. Stoop then, and fet your knee against my And in reguerdon of that duty done,

I gird thee with the valiant Sword 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 fprings, fo perish they,
That grudge one thought againft your Majefty!

All. Welcome, high Prince, the mighty Duke of York!
Som. Perish, base Prince, ignoble Duke of York!

Glou. Now will it beft avail your Majefty
To cross the feas, and to be crown'd in France :
The presence of a King engenders love
Amongst his fubjects and his loyal friends,
As it difanimates his enemies.

K. Henry. When Glo'fter fays the word,
For friendly counsel cuts off

many foes.

Glou. Your fhips already are in readiness.

Manet Exeter.

[Afide.

[goes;

King Henry

[Exeunt.

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

Not feeing what is likely to enfue;

This late diffenfion, 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 ev'ry fucking babe;
That Henry, born at Monmouth, fhould win all;
And Henry, born at Windfor, fhould lose all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter doth with,
His days may finish ere that hapless time,

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE changes to Roan in France.

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

"T

PucelHESE are the city-gates, the gates of Roan,
Thro' which our policy muft make a breach.
Take heed, be wary, how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar fort of market-men,
That come to gather mony 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 Sacks 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. Paifans, 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 fhake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanson.

Dau. St. Dennis blefs this happy ftratagem!
And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.
Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practifants:
Now she is there, how will fhe fpecifie
Where is the best and safest paffage in?

Reig. By thrusting 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, thrusting out a torch burning.

Pucel. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch,

That joineth Roan unto her countrymen ;

But burning fatal to the Talbotites. 3

Baft.

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

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

tears,

If Talbot but furvive thy treachery.

Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs,

Hath wrought this hellifh mifchief unawares;

That hardly we escap'd the prize of France. (18) [Exit.
An alarm: Excurfions. Bedford brought in, fick, in a chair.
Enter Talbot and Burgundy, without; within, Joan la
Pucelle, Dauphin, Bastard, and Reignier, on the walls.
Pucel. Good morrow, gallants, want ye corn for
bread?

I think, the Duke of Burgundy will fast,
Before he'll buy again at fuch a rate.

'Twas full of darnel; do you like the tafte?

Burg. Scoff on, vile fiend, and shameless curtizan !
I truft, ere long to choak thee with thine own;
And make thee curfe the harveft of that corn.

Dau. Your Grace may ftarve, perhaps, before that

time.

Bed. Oh, let not words, but deeds, revenge this treason!

(18) That hardly we efcap'd the Pride of France.] All the Copies concur in this Reading: but it seems to be an abfurd and unmeaning one. The best Conftruction, that can arise from escaping the Pride of France, is, efcaping the proud French: which would come very improperly from Talbot's Mouth. I have ventur'd to fuppofe, our Author wrote, the Prize: i. e. We hardly efcap'd being feiz'd by, becoming the Prize of the French. So in Richard the IIId.

A beauty-waining, and diftreffed Widow,
Ev'n in the Afternoon of her best days,

Made prize and purchase of his wanton Eye.

So likewife in the French Tongue, la Prife fignifies the feizure, or apprebending of any thing, as well as the Thing feized.

2

Pucel.