The Plays of William Shakspeare

About relieving of the sentinels:

Then how, or which way, should they first break in?
Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How, or which way; 'tis sure, they found some place
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there rests no other shift but this,
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them.
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying a Tal-
bot! a Talbot! They fly, leaving their clothes

behind.

Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
For I have loaden me with many spoils,
Using no other weapon but his name.

Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-rul'd: -
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks;
And in submission will attend on her. -
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will:
And I have heard it said, - Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
[Exit. I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
Come hither, captain. [Whispers.] - You perceive
my mind.

SCENE II.- Orleans. Within the Town. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others.

Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

[Retreat sounded.

Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury;
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this cursed town.
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night.
And, that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I'll erect

A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd:
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans;

The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

I muse, we met not with the Dauphin's grace;
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc;
Nor any of his false confederates.

Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight
began,

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
They did, amongst the troops of armed men,
Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern,
For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night,)
Am sure, I scar'd the Dauphin, and his trull;
When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves,
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We'll follow them with all the power we have.

Enter a Messenger.

Capt. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Auvergne. Court of the Castle.
Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter.
Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge;
And, when you have done so, bring the keys to me.
Port. Madam, I will.
[Exit.
Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
I shall as famous be by this exploit,
As Scythian Thomyris by Cyrus' death.
Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,
And his achievements of no less account:
Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
To give their censure of these rare reports.

Enter Messenger and TALBOT.

Mess. Madam, it is.

Count.

What! is this the

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 aspéct,
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

Mess. All hail, my lords! which of this princely To know the cause of your abrupt departure.

train

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;

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceiv'd, my substance is 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 Peal 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 rebellious 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 misconstrue 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,

But only (with your patience,) that we may Taste of your wine, and see what cates you have; For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.

Count. With all my heart; and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in my house. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.- London. The Temple Garden.

Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suf. Within the Temple hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient.

Plan. Then say at once, If I maintain'd the truth; Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in the error? Suf. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law; And never yet could frame my will to it; And, therefore, frame the law unto my will. Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then be

tween 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 judgment
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 forbearance:
The truth appears so naked on my side,
That any purblind eye may 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 flatterer,
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.

Suf. I pluck this red rose, with young Somerset; And say withal, I think he held the right.

Ver. Stay, lords, and gentlemen; and pluck no

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 die your white rose in a bloody red.
Plan. Mean time, your cheeks do counterfeit our

SCENE IV.

Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.

Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him
and thee,

Suf. 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 thou attainted,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
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.
Suf. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition!
And so farewell, until I meet thee next.
Som. Have with thee, Poole.

[Exit. Farewell, ambi[Exit.

tious Richard.
Plan. How I am brav'd, and must perforce en-
dure 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 thousands 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 grey 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,
Depriv'd 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 is

come.

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.
stock,
And now declare, sweet stem from York's great
of late thou wert despis'd?
Why didst thou say
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:
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 head.
Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me,
And hath detain'd me, all my flow'ring youth,
Was cursed instrument of his decease.
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,

Plan. Discover more at large what cause that 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,
Ji 2

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 bebeaded. 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; And yet be wary in thy studious care.

Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me:

[Dies

Plan. And peace, no war, befal thy parting soul! 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. [Erit.

ACT III.

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; WIN

CHESTER 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 ;

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 provoked?
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.

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

Thou art reverent,

Roam thither then.

Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.

Win. This Rome shall remedy.
War.
Sam. 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 humbler; 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.
0, 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.
[4 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 and
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'd fight aside.

1 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,

We, and our wives, and children, all will fight,
And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.

Glo.

[Skirmish again. 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, I offer thee my hand.
K. Hen. Fye, 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; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give.

Glo. Aye; 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 physick 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.

K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of

force:

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

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The Plays of William Shakspeare, Volúmenes11-12