With Part II, “Q” means a reading from the First Quarto text of 1594, “Q2” one from the Second Quarto of 1600, “Q3” from the Third Quarto of 1619, “F2” a correction from the Second Folio of 1632, “F4” a correction from the Fourth Folio of 1685, and “Ed” a reading from the subsequent editorial tradition. For Part III, “Q” signifies a reading from the First Octavo text of 1595, “Q3” one from the Third Quarto text of 1619, “F2” a correction from the Second Folio of 1632, “F3” a correction from the Third Folio of 1663–64, and “Ed” one from the subsequent editorial tradition. The rejected Folio reading is then given. Thus, for example, in Part II: “5.1.201 household = Q. F = housed. F2 = house’s” means that we have preferred the Quarto reading “household” and rejected the First Folio’s “housed” and the Second Folio’s “house’s” in the phrase “thy household badge.” We have also included interestingly different readings even when we have accepted the reading of the First Folio.
HENRY VI PART I:
KEY FACTS
MAJOR PARTS: (with percentage of lines/number of speeches/scenes onstage) Talbot (15%/59/12), Joan la Pucelle (9%/46/10), Richard Plantagenet, later Duke of York (7%/56/7), Duke of Gloucester (7%/48/7), King Henry VI (7%/29/5), Earl of Suffolk (6%/41/3), Charles, King of France (5%/41/8), Winchester (4%/27/6), Edmund Mortimer (3%/9/1), Sir William Lucy (3%/14/3), Duke of Bedford (3%/19/4), Earl of Warwick (3%/24/4), Duke of Somerset (2%/ 27/4), Duke of Exeter (2%/11/5), Reignier (2%/24/6), Duke of Alençon (2%/18/7), John Talbot (2%/11/2), Countess of Auvergne (2%/13/1), Duke of Burgundy (2%/17/6).
LINGUISTIC MEDIUM: 100% verse.
DATE: 1592. Generally assumed to be the “harey the vi” performed at the Rose Theatre in March 1592 (marked as “ne”—new?—by proprietor Philip Henslowe). Nashe’s pamphlet Pierce Penniless (registered for publication August 1592) refers to the Talbot scenes inspiring “the tears of ten thousand spectators.”
SOURCES: Different chronicle sources seem to have been used, perhaps by the play’s different authors. So, for example, Edward Hall’s The Union of the Two Noble and Illustre Famelies of Lancastre and Yorke (1548) is the main source for the civil contention in England, whereas the account of Joan of Arc draws on Holinshed’s Chronicles (1587 edition). Strikingly, the scenes most likely to be Shakespeare’s—the Temple garden and Talbot with his son—seem to be pure dramatic invention, with no source in the chronicles.
TEXT: 1623 Folio is the only text. There is dispute over whether it was set from (multi-?)authorial holograph or scribal copy, and the extent to which it was influenced by the playhouse bookkeeper. Some textual inconsistencies (e.g. whether Winchester is a bishop or a cardinal) may have been the result of different authors making different assumptions. The Folio editors introduced act and scene divisions that are perhaps more literary than theatrical.
TRILOGY?: Modern scholarship leans to the view that the plays which the Folio calls the second and third parts of Henry the Sixth were originally a two-part “Wars of the Roses” drama (The First Part of the Contention and The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York) and that this play was a (collaborative) “prequel,” written later to cash in on their success. This argument supposes that the three plays only became a “trilogy” when they were renamed and ordered by historical sequence in the 1623 Folio. Some scholars, however, adhere to the minority view that all three parts were written in sequence as a trilogy.
THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH
The English side
KING HENRY VI, probably a boy player
Duke of BEDFORD, Regent of France
Duke of GLOUCESTER, Lord Protector, brother of the late Henry V, uncle of the king
Duke of EXETER, uncle of the late Henry V, great-uncle of the king
Bishop of WINCHESTER, later a Cardinal, Exeter’s younger brother, family name Beaufort
Duke of SOMERSET, Exeter’s nephew
RICHARD PLANTAGENET, later DUKE OF YORK and Regent of France
Earl of WARWICK
Earl of SALISBURY
Earl of SUFFOLK, William de la Pole
Lord TALBOT, later Earl of Shrewsbury
JOHN Talbot, his son
Edmund MORTIMER, Earl of March
Sir Thomas GARGRAVE
Sir William GLASDALE
Sir John FALSTAFF (historically Fastolf, not the same character as in Henry IV and The Merry Wives of Windsor)
Sir William LUCY
WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower of London
MAYOR of London
OFFICER to the Mayor of London
VERNON
BASSET
A LAWYER
A Papal LEGATE
JAILERS
English CAPTAIN
FIRST SERVINGMAN
FIRST MESSENGER
SECOND MESSENGER
THIRD MESSENGER
FIRST WARDER
SECOND WARDER
The French side
CHARLES the Dauphin, later King of France
REIGNIER, Duke of Anjou, King of Naples
MARGARET, his daughter
Duke of ALENÇON
BASTARD of Orléans
Duke of BURGUNDY
French GENERAL
Joan la PUCELLE, also called Joan of Arc
SHEPHERD, father of Joan
MASTER GUNNER of Orléans
Master Gunner’s BOY, his son
COUNTESS of Auvergne
Her PORTER
French SERGEANT
FIRST SENTINEL WATCH
FIRST SOLDIER
French SCOUT
Soldiers, Attendants, Ambassadors, the Governor of Paris, French herald, Servingmen, Messengers, Sentinels, Captains, Fiends, Trumpeters
running scene 1
Dead march. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloucester, Protector; the Duke of Exeter, [the Earl of] Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset, [and Heralds]
BEDFORD Hung be the heavens with black1: yield, day, to night!
Comets, importing change of times and states2,
Brandish your crystal tresses3 in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars4
That have consented unto5 Henry’s death:
King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long6:
England ne’er lost a king of so much worth.
GLOUCESTER England ne’er had a king until his time:
Virtue9 he had, deserving to command:
His10 brandished sword did blind men with his beams:
His arms spread wider than a dragon’s wings:
His sparkling eyes, replete with12 wrathful fire,
More dazzled and drove back his enemies
Than midday sun, fierce bent against their faces.
What should I say?15 His deeds exceed all speech:
He ne’er lift up his hand but conquerèd16.
EXETER We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood17?
Henry is dead and never shall revive18:
Upon a wooden19 coffin we attend,
And death’s dishonourable victory
We with our stately presence glorify,
Like captives bound to a triumphant car22.
What, shall we curse the planets of mishap23,
That plotted24 thus our glory’s overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtle-witted25 French
Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verses have contrived27 his end?
WINCHESTER He was a king blessed of the King of Kings28.
Unto the French the dreadful judgement day29
So dreadful30 will not be as was his sight.
The battles of the Lord of hosts31 he fought:
The church’s prayers made him so prosperous32.
GLOUCESTER The church? Where is it? Had not churchmen prayed33,
His thread of life34 had not so soon decayed.
None do you like but an effeminate prince35,
Whom like a schoolboy you may overawe36.
WINCHESTER Gloucester, whate’er we like, thou art Protector37
And lookest38 to command the Prince and realm.
Thy wife is proud: she holdeth thee in awe,
More than God or religious churchmen may.
GLOUCESTER Name not religion, for thou lov’st the flesh41,
And ne’er throughout the year to church thou go’st
Except it be to pray against thy foes.
BEDFORD Cease, cease these jars44, and rest your minds in peace:
Let’s to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
[Exeunt funeral procession]
Instead of gold, we’ll offer up our arms:
Since arms avail not47 now that Henry’s dead:
Posterity, await for48 wretched years,
When, at their mothers’ moistened eyes, babes shall suck,49
Our isle be made a nourish50 of salt tears,
And none but women left to wail the dead.
Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate52:
Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils53,
Combat with adverse planets54 in the heavens:
A far more glorious star thy soul will make
Than Julius Caesar56, or bright—
Enter a Messenger
FIRST MESSENGER My honourable lords, health to you all:
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture59:
Guyenne, Champaigne60, Rouen, Rheims, Orléans,
Paris, Gisors, Poitiers, are all quite lost.
BEDFORD What say’st thou, man, before dead Henry’s corpse?
Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
Will make him burst his lead64 and rise from death.
GLOUCESTER Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?
If Henry were recalled to life again,
These news would cause him once more yield the ghost67.
EXETER How were they lost? What treachery was used?
FIRST MESSENGER No treachery, but want69 of men and money.
Amongst the soldiers this is mutterèd:
That here you maintain several71 factions,
And whilst a field should be dispatched72 and fought,
You are disputing of73 your generals.
One would have lingering wars with little cost:
Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings:
A third thinks, without expense at all,
By guileful77 fair words peace may be obtained.
Awake, awake, English nobility!
Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot79:
Cropped are the flower-de-luces in your arms80:
Of England’s coat81, one half is cut away.
[Exit]
EXETER Were our tears wanting to82 this funeral,
These tidings would call forth her flowing tides83.
BEDFORD Me they concern: Regent84 I am of France:
Give me my steelèd coat85: I’ll fight for France.
He removes his mourning robes
Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
To weep their intermissive88 miseries.
Enter to them another Messenger
SECOND MESSENGER Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance89.
France is revolted from the English quite90,
Except some petty91 towns of no import.
The dauphin92 Charles is crownèd king in Rheims:
The Bastard93 of Orléans with him is joined:
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part:
The Duke of Alençon flieth to his side.
Exit
EXETER The dauphin crownèd king! All fly to him?
O whither shall we fly from this reproach97?
GLOUCESTER We will not fly, but to our enemies’ throats.
Bedford, if thou be slack, I’ll fight it out.
BEDFORD Gloucester, why doubt’st thou of my forwardness100?
An army have I mustered in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is overrun.
Enter another Messenger
THIRD MESSENGER My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew104 King Henry’s hearse,
I must inform you of a dismal fight105
Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
WINCHESTER What? Wherein Talbot overcame — is’t so?
THIRD MESSENGER O no: wherein Lord Talbot was o’erthrown:
The circumstance109 I’ll tell you more at large.
The tenth of August last, this dreadful110 lord,
Retiring from the siege of Orléans,
Having full scarce112 six thousand in his troop,
By three and twenty thousand of the French
Was round encompassèd114 and set upon:
No leisure had he to enrank115 his men.
He wanted pikes116 to set before his archers:
Instead whereof, sharp stakes plucked out of hedges
They pitchèd in the ground confusedly118,
To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
More than three hours the fight continuèd,
Where valiant Talbot above human thought121
Enacted wonders with his sword and lance.
Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand123 him:
Here, there, and everywhere, enraged he slew.
The French exclaimed the devil was in arms:
All the whole army stood agazed on126 him.
His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit
‘A Talbot! A Talbot!’ cried out amain128
And rushed into the bowels129 of the battle.
Here had the conquest fully been sealed up130,
If Sir John Falstaff131 had not played the coward.
He, being in the vanguard, placed behind
With133 purpose to relieve and follow them,
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
Hence grew the general wrack135 and massacre;
Enclosèd136 were they with their enemies.
A base Walloon, to win the dauphin’s grace137,
Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
Whom all France with their chief assembled strength
Durst not presume to look once in the face.
BEDFORD Is Talbot slain then? I will slay myself,
For living idly here in pomp142 and ease,
Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his dastard foemen144 is betrayed.
THIRD MESSENGER O no, he lives, but is took prisoner,
And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford:
Most of the rest slaughtered, or took likewise.
BEDFORD His ransom there is none but I shall pay.
I’ll hale149 the dauphin headlong from his throne:
His crown shall be the ransom of my friend:
Four of their lords I’ll change151 for one of ours.
Farewell, my masters: to my task will I.
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
To keep our great Saint George’s feast withal154.
Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.
THIRD MESSENGER So you had need, for Orléans is besieged.
The English army is grown weak and faint:
The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply159,
And hardly160 keeps his men from mutiny,
Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.
[Exit]
EXETER Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn:
Either to quell163 the dauphin utterly,
Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.
BEDFORD I do remember it, and here take my leave,
To go about my preparation.
Exit Bedford
GLOUCESTER I’ll to the Tower167 with all the haste I can,
To view th’artillery and munition,
And then I will proclaim young Henry king.
Exit Gloucester
EXETER To Eltham170 will I, where the young king is,
Being ordained his special governor171,
And for his safety there I’ll best devise.
Exit
WINCHESTER Each hath his place and function to attend:
I am left out; for me nothing remains:
But long I will not be Jack-out-of-office175.
The king from Eltham I intend to steal
And sit at chiefest stern of public weal177.
Exit
running scene 2
Sound a flourish. Enter Charles [the Dauphin, the Duke of] Alençon and Reignier [Duke of Anjou], marching with Drum and Soldiers
CHARLES Mars his true moving1, even as in the heavens
So in the earth, to this day is not known.
Late3 did he shine upon the English side:
Now we are victors: upon us he smiles.
What towns of any moment5 but we have?
At pleasure here we lie near Orléans;
Otherwhiles7 the famished English, like pale ghosts,
Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
ALENÇON They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves9:
Either they must be dieted10 like mules,
And have their provender11 tied to their mouths,
Or piteous they will look, like drownèd mice.
REIGNIER Let’s raise13 the siege: why live we idly here?
Talbot is taken, whom we wont14 to fear:
Remaineth none but mad-brained Salisbury,
And he may well in fretting spend his gall16,
Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
CHARLES Sound, sound alarum18! We will rush on them.
Now for the honour of the forlorn19 French:
Him I forgive my death that killeth me
When he sees me go back one foot or fly.
Exeunt
Here alarum: they are beaten back by the English with great loss
Enter Charles, Alençon and Reignier
CHARLES Who ever saw the like? What men have I?
Dogs, cowards, dastards23! I would ne’er have fled,
But that they left me ’midst my enemies.
REIGNIER Salisbury is a desperate homicide25;
He fighteth as one weary of his life:
The other lords, like lions27 wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry28 prey.
ALENÇON Froissart29, a countryman of ours, records
England all Olivers and Rowlands30 bred,
During the time Edward the Third did reign:
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samsons and Goliases33
It sendeth forth to skirmish: one to ten34!
Lean raw-boned rascals35, who would e’er suppose
They had such courage and audacity?
CHARLES Let’s leave this town, for they are hare-brained slaves37,
And hunger will enforce them to be more eager38:
Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
The walls they’ll tear down than forsake40 the siege.
REIGNIER I think by some odd gimmers or device41
Their arms are set, like clocks, still42 to strike on;
Else ne’er could they hold out so as they do:
By my consent, we’ll even44 let them alone.
ALENÇON Be it so.
Enter the Bastard of Orléans
BASTARD Where’s the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
CHARLES Bastard of Orléans, thrice welcome to us.
BASTARD Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appalled48.
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence49?
Be not dismayed, for succour is at hand:
A holy maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a vision sent to her from heaven,
Ordainèd is to raise this tedious53 siege
And drive the English forth the bounds54 of France:
The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
Exceeding the nine sibyls56 of old Rome:
What’s past and what’s to come she can descry57.
Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
For they are certain and unfallible.
CHARLES Go, call her in.
[Exit Bastard of Orléans]
But first, to try60 her skill,
Reignier, stand thou as dauphin in my place:
Question her proudly62: let thy looks be stern:
By this means shall we sound63 what skill she hath.
Enter [the Bastard of Orléans, with] Joan [la] Pucelle [armed]
As Charles
REIGNIER Fair maid, is’t thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
PUCELLE Reignier, is’t thou that thinkest to beguile65 me?
To Charles
Where is the dauphin?— Come, come from behind:
I know thee well, though never seen before.
Be not amazed, there’s nothing hid from me;
In private will I talk with thee apart69:
Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
Reignier, Aiençon, and Bastard stand apart
REIGNIER She takes upon her bravely at first dash71.
PUCELLE Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd’s daughter,
My wit untrained in any kind of art73:
Heaven and our Lady gracious74 hath it pleased
To shine on my contemptible estate75.
Lo, whilst I waited on my tender76 lambs,
And to sun’s parching heat displayed my cheeks,
God’s mother deignèd to appear to me,
And in a vision full of majesty,
Willed me to leave my base vocation
And free my country from calamity:
Her aid she promised, and assured success.
In complete83 glory she revealed herself:
And whereas I was black and swart84 before,
With those clear rays which she infused on85 me
That beauty am I blessed with, which you may see.
Ask me what question thou canst possible,
And I will answer unpremeditated88:
My courage try by combat, if thou dar’st,
And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
Resolve on91 this, thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike mate92.
CHARLES Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms93:
Only this proof94 I’ll of thy valour make,
In single combat thou shalt buckle95 with me,
And if thou vanquishest96, thy words are true:
Otherwise I renounce all confidence97.
PUCELLE I am prepared: here is my keen-edged98 sword,
Decked with five flower-de-luces99 on each side,
The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine100’s churchyard,
Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
CHARLES Then come, a102 God’s name: I fear no woman.
PUCELLE And while I live, I’ll ne’er fly from a man103.
Here they fight, and Joan la Pucelle overcomes
CHARLES Stay, stay thy hands! Thou art an Amazon104
And fightest with the sword of Deborah105.
PUCELLE Christ’s mother helps me, else106 I were too weak.
CHARLES Whoe’er helps thee, ’tis thou that must help me:
Impatiently I burn with thy desire108:
My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
Let me thy servant111 and not sovereign be:
’Tis the French dauphin sueth to112 thee thus.
PUCELLE I must not yield to any rites of love,
For my profession’s114 sacred from above:
When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
Then will I think upon a recompense116.
CHARLES Meantime, look gracious on thy prostrate thrall117.
To the others, apart
REIGNIER My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
ALENÇON Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock119,
Else ne’er could he so long protract120 his speech.
REIGNIER Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean121?
ALENÇON He may mean more than we poor men do know122.
These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues123.
REIGNIER My lord, where are you? What devise you on124?
Shall we give o’er125 Orléans, or no?
PUCELLE Why, no, I say: distrustful recreants126,
Fight till the last gasp: I’ll be your guard.
CHARLES What she says, I’ll confirm: we’ll fight it out.
PUCELLE Assigned am I to be the English scourge129.
This night the siege assuredly I’ll raise:
Expect Saint Martin’s summer, halcyon’s days131,
Since I have entered into these wars.
Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
With Henry’s death, the English circle ends:
Dispersèd are the glories it included:
Now am I like that proud insulting138 ship
Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once139.
CHARLES Was Mahomet inspirèd with a dove140?
Thou with141 an eagle art inspirèd then.
Helen142, the mother of great Constantine,
Nor yet Saint Philip’s daughters143 were like thee.
Bright star of Venus144, fall’n down on the earth,
How may I reverently worship thee enough?
ALENÇON Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
REIGNIER Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;
Drive them from Orléans, and be immortalized148.
CHARLES Presently149 we’ll try: come, let’s away about it:
No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.
Exeunt
running scene 3
Enter Gloucester, with his Servingmen [in blue coats]
GLOUCESTER I am come to survey the Tower this day:
Since Henry’s death, I fear, there is conveyance2:
Servingmen knock on gates
Where be these warders3, that they wait not here?
Open the gates; ’tis Gloucester that calls.
Within
FIRST WARDER Who’s there that knocks so imperiously?
FIRST SERVINGMAN It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.
Within
SECOND WARDER Whoe’er he be, you may not be let in.
FIRST SERVINGMAN Villains8, answer you so the Lord Protector?
Within
FIRST WARDER The Lord protect him, so we answer him:
We do no otherwise than we are willed10.
GLOUCESTER Who willèd you? Or whose will stands but mine?
There’s none12 protector of the realm but I.
To Servingmen
Break up the gates, I’ll be your warrantize13:
Shall I be flouted14 thus by dunghill grooms?
Gloucester’s men rush at the Tower Gates, and Woodville the Lieutenant speaks within
WOODVILLE What noise is this? What traitors have we here?
GLOUCESTER Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?
Open the gates: here’s Gloucester that would enter.
WOODVILLE Have patience, noble duke: I may not open:
The Cardinal19 of Winchester forbids:
From him I have express commandment
That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.
GLOUCESTER Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him ’fore22 me?
Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate,
Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne’er could brook24?
Thou art no friend to God or to the king:
Open the gates, or I’ll shut thee out shortly26.
SERVINGMEN Open the gates unto the Lord Protector,
Or we’ll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.
Enter to the [Lord] Protector at the Tower Gates, [the Bishop of] Winchester and his men in tawny coats
WINCHESTER How now, ambitious umpire29! What means this?
GLOUCESTER Peeled30 priest, dost thou command me to be shut out?
WINCHESTER I do, thou most usurping proditor31,
And not ‘Protector’, of the king or realm.
GLOUCESTER Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
Thou that contrived’st to murder our dead lord34:
Thou that giv’st whores indulgences to sin35:
I’ll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal’s hat36,
If thou proceed in this thy insolence.
WINCHESTER Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot:
This be Damascus, be thou cursèd Cain39,
To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.
GLOUCESTER I will not slay thee, but I’ll drive thee back:
Thy scarlet robes as a child’s bearing-cloth42
I’ll use to carry thee out of this place.
WINCHESTER Do what thou dar’st, I beard44 thee to thy face.
GLOUCESTER What? Am I dared45 and bearded to my face?
Draw, men, for all this privilegèd place46;
All draw their swords
Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard,
I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly.
Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal’s hat:
In spite of Pope or dignities50 of Church,
Here by the cheeks I’ll drag thee up and down.
WINCHESTER Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the Pope.
GLOUCESTER Winchester goose, I cry, ‘A rope53, a rope!’—
To Servingmen
Now beat them hence: why do you let them stay?—
To Winchester
Thee I’ll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep’s array.—
Out, tawny coats!— Out, scarlet hypocrite!
Here Gloucester’s men beat out the [Bishop of Winchester’s] men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Mayor of London and his Officers
MAYOR Fie57, lords, that you, being supreme magistrates,
Thus contumeliously58 should break the peace!
GLOUCESTER Peace, mayor, thou know’st little of my wrongs:
Here’s Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king,
Hath here distrained61 the Tower to his use.
WINCHESTER Here’s Gloucester — a foe to citizens,
One that still63 motions war and never peace,
O’ercharging your free64 purses with large fines—
That seeks to overthrow religion,
Because he is Protector of the realm,
And would have armour here out of the Tower,
To crown himself king and suppress the prince68.
GLOUCESTER I will not answer thee with words, but blows.
Here they skirmish again
MAYOR Naught rests70 for me, in this tumultuous strife,
But to make open proclamation.
Come, officer, as loud as e’er thou canst, cry.
Handing a paper to the Officer, who reads
OFFICER All manner of men assembled here in
arms this day against God’s peace and the king’s,
we charge and command you, in his highness’ name, to repair75
to your several76 dwelling-places, and not to wear, handle, or
use any sword, weapon, or dagger, henceforward, upon pain
of death.
The skirmish ends
GLOUCESTER Cardinal, I’ll be no breaker of the law:
But we shall meet, and break our minds at large80.
WINCHESTER Gloucester, we’ll meet to thy cost, be sure:
Thy heart-blood I will have for this day’s work.
MAYOR I’ll call for clubs83, if you will not away:
This cardinal’s more haughty than the devil.
GLOUCESTER Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst.
WINCHESTER Abominable86 Gloucester, guard thy head,
For I intend to have it ere87 long.
Exeunt [separately, Gloucester and Bishop of Winchester with their Servingmen]
MAYOR See the coast cleared, and then we will depart.
Good God, these nobles should such stomachs89 bear!
I myself fight not once in forty year.
Exeunt
running scene 4
Enter the Master Gunner of Orléans and his Boy
MASTER GUNNER Sirrah1, thou know’st how Orléans is besieged,
And how the English have the suburbs2 won.
BOY Father, I know, and oft have shot at them,
Howe’er, unfortunate, I missed my aim.
MASTER GUNNER But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me:
Chief Master Gunner am I of this town,
Something I must do to procure me grace7:
The prince’s espials8 have informèd me
How the English, in the suburbs close entrenched9,
Wont10, through a secret grate of iron bars
In yonder tower, to overpeer the city,
And thence discover how with most advantage
They may vex us with shot or with assault.
To intercept this inconvenience14,
A piece of ordnance gainst15 it I have placed,
And even these three days have I watched,
If I could see them. Now do thou watch
For I can stay no longer.
If thou spy’st any, run and bring me word,
And thou shalt find me at the governor’s.
BOY Father, I warrant you, take you no care21:
Exit [Master Gunner]
I’ll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
Exit
Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the turrets, with others [including Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glasdale]
SALISBURY Talbot, my life, my joy, again returned?
How wert thou handled, being prisoner?
Or by what means got’st thou to be released?
Discourse, I prithee, on this turret’s top.
TALBOT The Earl of Bedford had a prisoner,
Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles:
For him was I exchanged and ransomèd.
But with a baser man of arms30 by far
Once in contempt they would have bartered me:
Which I, disdaining, scorned, and cravèd32 death,
Rather than I would be so pilled33 esteemed:
In fine, redeemed34 I was as I desired.
But O, the treacherous Falstaff wounds my heart,
Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
If I now had him brought into my power.
SALISBURY Yet tell’st thou not how thou wert entertained38.
TALBOT With scoffs and scorns and contumelious39 taunts:
In open market-place produced they me,
To be a public spectacle to all:
‘Here’, said they, ‘is the terror of the French,
The scarecrow that affrights our children so.’
Then broke I from the officers that led me,
And with my nails digged stones out of the ground,
To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
My grisly47 countenance made others fly:
None durst come near for fear of sudden48 death.
In iron walls they deemed me not secure:
So great fear of my name ’mongst them was spread,
That they supposed I could rend bars of steel,
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant52.
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot53 I had,
That walked about me every minute while54:
And if I did but stir out of my bed,
Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.
Enter the Boy [who passes over the stage and exits] with a linstock [lit and burning]
SALISBURY I grieve to hear what torments you endured,
But we will be revenged sufficiently.
Now it is supper-time in Orléans:
Here, through this grate, I count each one
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
Let us look in: the sight will much delight thee:
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glasdale,
Let me have your express64 opinions
They look through the grate
Where is best place to make our batt’ry65 next.
GARGRAVE I think, at the north gate, for there stands lords.
GLASDALE And I, here, at the bulwark67 of the bridge.
TALBOT For aught68 I see, this city must be famished,
Or with light skirmishes enfeeblèd69.
Here they shoot [within] and Salisbury [and Gargrave] fall down
SALISBURY O Lord have mercy on us, wretched sinners!
GARGRAVE O Lord have mercy on me, woeful man!
TALBOT What chance72 is this that suddenly hath crossed us?
Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speak:
How far’st thou, mirror74 of all martial men?
One of thy eyes and thy cheek’s side struck off?
Accursèd tower! Accursèd fatal76 hand
That hath contrived this woeful tragedy.
In thirteen battles Salisbury o’ercame:
Henry the Fifth he first trained to the wars:
Whilst any trump80 did sound, or drum struck up,
His sword did ne’er leave striking in the field.
Yet liv’st thou, Salisbury? Though thy speech doth fail,
One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace.
The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury wants86 mercy at thy hands.
Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot: nay, look up to him.
Bear hence his body: I will help to bury it.
[Exit one with Gargrave’s body]
Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort:
Thou shalt not die whiles—
He beckons with his hand and smiles on me:
As93 who should say ‘When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.’
Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,
Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn96:
Wretched shall France be only in97 my name.
Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens
What stir is this? What tumult’s in the heavens?
Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head100.
The dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle joined,
A holy prophetess new risen up,
Is come with a great power103 to raise the siege.
Here Salisbury lifteth himself up and groans
TALBOT Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan!
It irks105 his heart he cannot be revenged.
Frenchmen, I’ll be a Salisbury to you.
Puzzel or pucelle, dolphin107 or dogfish,
Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels,
And make a quagmire of your mingled109 brains.
Convey me110 Salisbury into his tent,
And then we’ll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
Alarum. Exeunt
[Act 1 Scene 5]
running scene 4 continues
Here an alarum again, and Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him: then enter Joan la Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her, [and
Exeunt]. Then enter Talbot
TALBOT Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay2 them:
A woman clad in armour chaseth them.
Enter [Joan la] Pucelle
Here, here she comes. I’ll have a bout4 with thee:
Devil or devil’s dam5, I’ll conjure thee:
Blood will I draw on thee — thou art a witch6 —
And straightway give thy soul to him7 thou serv’st.
PUCELLE Come, come, ’tis only I that must disgrace thee.
Here they fight
TALBOT Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
My breast I’ll burst with straining of my courage10
And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder.
But I will chastise this high-minded12 strumpet.
They fight again
PUCELLE Talbot, farewell: thy hour is not yet come:
I must go victual14 Orléans forthwith.
A short alarum: then [the French] enter the town with soldiers
O’ertake me if thou canst: I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starvèd men:
Help Salisbury to make his testament17:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.
Exit
TALBOT My thoughts are whirlèd like a potter’s wheel:
I know not where I am, nor what I do:
A witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal21,
Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists22:
So bees with smoke and doves with noisome23 stench
Are from their hives and houses driven away.
They called us, for our fierceness, English dogs:
A short alarum
Now, like to whelps26, we crying run away.
Hark, countrymen: either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England’s coat28;
Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions’ stead29:
Sheep run not half so treacherous30 from the wolf,
Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subduèd32 slaves.
Alarum. Here another skirmish
It will not be33: retire into your trenches:
You all consented unto34 Salisbury’s death,
For none would strike a stroke in his revenge35.
Pucelle is entered into Orléans,
In spite of us or aught that we could do.
O would38 I were to die with Salisbury!
The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
Exit Talbot
Alarum: retreat: flourish
[Act 1 Scene 6]
running scene 4 continues
Enter on the walls, [Joan la] Pucelle, Charles [the Dauphin], Reignier, Alençon and Soldiers [with colours]
PUCELLE Advance1 our waving colours on the walls:
Rescued is Orléans from the English.
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word.
CHARLES Divinest creature, Astraea4’s daughter,
How shall I honour thee for this success?
Thy promises are like Adonis’ garden6
That one day bloomed and fruitful were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
Recovered is the town of Orléans:
More blessèd hap10 did ne’er befall our state.
REIGNIER Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?
Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires
And feast and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
ALENÇON All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
When they shall hear how we have played the men16.
CHARLES ’Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won:
For which I will divide my crown with her,
And all the priests and friars in my realm
Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
A statelier pyramid to her I’ll rear
Than Rhodope’s of Memphis’22 ever was.
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewelled coffer of Darius25,
Transported shall be at high26 festivals
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on Saint Denis28 will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle shall be France’s saint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory.
Flourish. Exeunt
Act 2 Scene 1
running scene 5
Enter [above] a [French] Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels
SERGEANT Sirs, take your places and be vigilant:
If any noise or soldier you perceive
Near to the walls, by some apparent3 sign
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard4.
FIRST SENTINEL Sergeant, you shall.
[Exit Sergeant]
Thus are poor servitors5,
When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
Constrained7 to watch in darkness, rain and cold.
Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, [and soldiers], with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march
TALBOT Lord Regent, and redoubted8 Burgundy,
By whose approach9 the regions of Artois,
Wallon10, and Picardy are friends to us:
This happy night the Frenchmen are secure11,
Having all day caroused and banqueted:
Embrace we then this opportunity,
As fitting best to quittance14 their deceit,
Contrived by art and baleful15 sorcery.
BEDFORD Coward of France! How much he wrongs his fame16,
Despairing of his own arm’s fortitude17,
To join with witches and the help of hell.
BURGUNDY Traitors have never other company.
But what’s that Pucelle whom they term so pure?
TALBOT A maid, they say.
BEDFORD A maid? And be so martial?
BURGUNDY Pray God she prove not masculine23 ere long,
If underneath the standard24 of the French
She carry armour25 as she hath begun.
TALBOT Well, let them practise and converse26 with spirits.
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
Let us resolve to scale their flinty28 bulwarks.
BEDFORD Ascend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee.
TALBOT Not all together: better far, I guess,
That we do make our entrance several31 ways:
That, if it chance the one of us do fail,
The other yet may rise against their force.
BEDFORD Agreed: I’ll to yond34 corner.
BURGUNDY And I to this.
TALBOT And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave.
Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
Of English Henry, shall this night appear
How much in duty I am bound to both.
SENTINELS Arm! Arm! The enemy doth make assault!
[English soldiers, having scaled the walls] cry: ‘Saint George,’ ‘A Talbot.’
The French leap o’er the walls in their shirts. Enter several ways [the] Bastard [of Orléans], Alençon [and] Reignier, half ready, and half unready
ALENÇON How now, my lords? What, all unready so?
BASTARD Unready? Ay, and glad we scaped so well.
REIGNIER ’Twas time, I trow43, to wake and leave our beds,
Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.
ALENÇON Of all exploits since first I followed arms,
Ne’er heard I of a warlike enterprise
More venturous or desperate47 than this.
BASTARD I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
REIGNIER If not of hell, the heavens sure favour him.
ALENÇON Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped50.
Enter Charles and Joan [la Pucelle]
BASTARD Tut, holy51 Joan was his defensive guard.
CHARLES Is this thy cunning52, thou deceitful dame?
Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal53,
Make us partakers of a little gain,
That now our loss might be ten times so much?
PUCELLE Wherefore is Charles impatient56 with his friend?
At all times will you have my power alike57?
Sleeping or waking must I still prevail58,
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
Improvident60 soldiers, had your watch been good,
This sudden mischief never could have fall’n61.
CHARLES Duke of Alençon, this was your default62,
That, being captain of the watch tonight,
Did look no better to that weighty charge64.
ALENÇON Had all your quarters been as safely kept65
As that whereof I had the government66,
We had not been thus shamefully surprised67.
BASTARD Mine was secure.
REIGNIER And so was mine, my lord.
CHARLES And for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter and mine own precinct71
I was employed in passing72 to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels73.
Then how or which way should they first break in?
PUCELLE Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How or which way: ’tis sure they found some place
But77 weakly guarded, where the breach was made:
And now there rests78 no other shift but this:
To gather our soldiers, scattered and dispersed,
And lay new platforms to endamage them80.
Alarum. Enter an [English] Soldier, crying ‘A Talbot! A Talbot!’ [The French] fly, leaving their clothes behind
SOLDIER 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 spoils83,
Using no other weapon but his name.
Exit
[Act 2 Scene 2]
running scene 5 continues
Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, [a Captain, and others]
BEDFORD The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy2 mantle over-veiled the earth.
Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
Retreat [sounded]
TALBOT Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
And here advance5 it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this cursèd town.
Now have I paid my vow7 unto his soul:
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight.
And that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin11 happened in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I’ll erect
A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interred:
Upon the which, that everyone may read,
Shall be engraved the sack of Orléans,
The treacherous manner of his mournful16 death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I muse19 we met not with the dauphin’s grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous20 Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false confederates.
BEDFORD ’Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
They did amongst the troops of armèd men
Leap o’er the walls for refuge in the field.
BURGUNDY Myself, as far as I could well discern
For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,
Am sure I scared the dauphin and his trull28,
When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves30
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We’ll follow them with all the power33 we have.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train
Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
So much applauded through the realm of France?
TALBOT Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?
MESSENGER The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
With modesty admiring thy renown,
By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe40
To visit her poor castle where she lies41,
That she may boast she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report43.
BURGUNDY Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars
Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport45,
When ladies crave to be encountered with46.
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle47 suit.
TALBOT Ne’er trust me then: for when a world48 of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory49,
Yet hath a woman’s kindness overruled50:
And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
And in submission will attend on52 her.
Will not your honours bear me company?
BEDFORD No, truly, ’tis more than manners will:
And I have heard it said, unbidden55 guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
TALBOT Well then, alone, since there’s no remedy57,
I mean to prove58 this lady’s courtesy.
Come hither, captain.
You perceive my mind60?
Whispers
CAPTAIN I do, my lord, and mean61 accordingly.
Exeunt
running scene 6
Enter [the] Countess [of Auvergne and her Porter]
COUNTESS Porter, remember what I gave in charge1,
And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.
PORTER Madam, I will.
Exit
COUNTESS The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
I shall as famous be by this exploit
As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus’ death6.
Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,
And his achievements of no less account:
Fain9 would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
To give their censure of these rare10 reports.
Enter Messenger and Talbot
MESSENGER Madam, according as your ladyship desired,
By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.
COUNTESS And he is welcome. What, is this the man?
MESSENGER Madam, it is.
COUNTESS Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much feared abroad16
That with his name the mothers still17 their babes?
I see report is fabulous18 and false:
I thought I should have seen some Hercules19,
A second Hector, for20 his grim aspect,
And large proportion of his strong-knit21 limbs.
Alas, this is a child, a silly22 dwarf:
It cannot be this weak and writhled23 shrimp
Should strike such terror to his enemies.
TALBOT Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I’ll sort27 some other time to visit you.
COUNTESS What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes.
MESSENGER Stay, my lord Talbot, for my lady craves
To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
TALBOT Marry, for that she’s in a wrong belief31,
I go to certify her Talbot’s here32.
Enter Porter with keys
COUNTESS If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
TALBOT Prisoner? To whom?
COUNTESS To me, bloodthirsty lord;
And for that cause I trained36 thee to my house.
Long time thy shadow hath been thrall37 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 tyranny41 these many years
Wasted42 our country, slain our citizens,
And sent our sons and husbands captivate43.
TALBOT Ha, ha, ha!
COUNTESS Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to moan.
TALBOT I laugh to see your ladyship so fond46
To think that you have aught47 but Talbot’s shadow
Whereon to practise your severity.
COUNTESS Why, art not thou the man?
TALBOT I am indeed.
COUNTESS Then have I substance too.
TALBOT No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceived, my substance is not here;
For what you see is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity55:
I tell you, madam, were the whole frame56 here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch57,
Your roof were not sufficient to contain’t.
COUNTESS This is a riddling merchant59 for the nonce:
He will be here, and yet he is not here:
How can these contrarieties61 agree?
TALBOT That will I show you presently62.
Winds his horn, drums strike up, a peal of ordnance. 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 yoketh66 your rebellious necks,
Razeth your cities and subverts67 your towns
And in a moment makes them desolate.
COUNTESS Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse69:
I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited70,
And more than may be gathered by thy shape.
Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath,
For I am sorry that with reverence
I did not entertain74 thee as thou art.
TALBOT Be not dismayed, fair lady, nor misconster75
The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done hath not offended me:
Nor other satisfaction do I crave,
But only, with your patience80, that we may
Taste of your wine and see what cates81 you have,
For soldiers’ stomachs82 always serve them well.
COUNTESS With all my heart, and think me honourèd
To feast so great a warrior in my house.
Exeunt
running scene 7
Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerset, Suffolk, A rose brier [Vernon, and a Lawyer] revealed
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
Dare no man answer in a case of truth2?
SUFFOLK Within the Temple hall we were3 too loud:
The garden here is more convenient.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Then say at once if I maintained the truth:
Or else was wrangling6 Somerset in th’error?
SUFFOLK Faith, I have been a truant7 in the law,
And never yet could frame8 my will to it,
And therefore frame the law unto my will.
SOMERSET Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us.
WARWICK Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch11,
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth12,
Between two blades, which bears the better temper13,
Between two horses, which doth bear him14 best,
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,
I have perhaps some shallow16 spirit of judgement:
But in these nice sharp quillets17 of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw18.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance19:
The truth appears so naked20 on my side
That any purblind21 eye may find it out.
SOMERSET And on my side it is so well apparelled22,
So clear, so shining, and so evident
That it will glimmer through a blind24 man’s eye.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
In dumb significants26 proclaim your thoughts:
Let him that is a true-born gentleman
And stands28 upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded29 truth,
He plucks a white rose
From off this brier pluck a white rose30 with me.
SOMERSET Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
But dare maintain the party32 of the truth,
He plucks a red rose
Pluck a red rose33 from off this thorn with me.
WARWICK I love no colours, and without all colour34
Of base insinuating flattery
I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
SUFFOLK I pluck this red rose with young Somerset
And say withal38 I think he held the right.
VERNON Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more
Till you conclude that he upon whose side
The fewest roses are cropped from the tree
Shall yield42 the other in the right opinion.
SOMERSET Good Master Vernon, it is well objected43:
If I have fewest, I subscribe44 in silence.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET And I.
VERNON Then for the truth and plainness of the case.
I pluck this pale and maiden47 blossom here,
Giving my verdict on the white rose side.
SOMERSET 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.
VERNON If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion53 shall be surgeon to my hurt
And keep me on the side where still54 I am.
SOMERSET Well, well, come on, who else?
LAWYER Unless my study and my books be false,
To Somerset
The argument you held was wrong in law:
In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
SOMERSET Here in my scabbard, meditating that60
Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit62 our roses:
For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
The truth on our side.
SOMERSET No, Plantagenet,
’Tis not for fear, but anger, that thy cheeks
Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses,
And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Hath not thy rose a canker69, Somerset?
SOMERSET Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his71 truth,
Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
SOMERSET Well, I’ll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
That shall maintain what I have said is true,
Where false75 Plantagenet dare not be seen.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish77 boy.
SUFFOLK Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Proud Pole79, I will, and scorn both him and thee.
SUFFOLK I’ll turn my part thereof into thy throat80.
SOMERSET Away, away, good William de la Pole:
We grace the yeoman82 by conversing with him.
WARWICK Now, by God’s will, thou wrong’st him, Somerset:
His grandfather84 was Lionel Duke of Clarence,
Third son to the third Edward King of England:
Spring crestless86 yeomen from so deep a root?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET He bears87 him on the place’s privilege,
Or durst not for his craven88 heart say thus.
SOMERSET By him that made me, I’ll maintain89 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 attainted93,
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood,
And till thou be restored96, thou art a yeoman.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET My father was attachèd, not attainted97,
Condemned to die for treason, but no traitor;
And that I’ll prove on better men than Somerset,
Were growing time once ripened to my will100.
For your partaker101 Pole and you yourself,
I’ll note102 you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this apprehension103:
Look to it104 well, and say you are well warned.
SOMERSET Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee still,
And know us by these colours for thy foes,
For these my friends in spite107 of thee shall wear.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET And by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
As cognizance109 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 degree112.
SUFFOLK Go forward and be choked with thy ambition:
And so farewell until I meet thee next.
Exit
SOMERSET Have with thee115, Pole.— Farewell, ambitious Richard.
Exit
RICHARD PLANTAGENET How I am braved and must perforce116 endure it!
WARWICK This blot that they object117 against your house
Shall be wiped out in the next parliament,
Called for the truce of119 Winchester and Gloucester:
And if thou be not then created York,
I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Meantime, in signal122 of my love to thee,
Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
Will I upon thy party124 wear this rose.
And here I prophesy: this brawl today,
Grown to this faction126 in the Temple garden,
Shall send, between the red rose and the white,
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
VERNON In your behalf still131 will I wear the same.
LAWYER And so will I.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Thanks, gentles133.
Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
Exeunt
running scene 8
Enter Mortimer, brought in a chair, and Jailers
MORTIMER Kind keepers1 of my weak decaying age,
Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
Even like a man new haled from the rack3,
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment:
And these grey locks, the pursuivants5 of death,
Nestor-like agèd in an age of care6,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent9:
Weak shoulders, overborne10 with burdening grief,
And pithless11 arms, like to a withered vine,
That droops his sapless branches to the ground.
Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb13,
Unable to support this lump of clay,
Swift-wingèd with desire to get a grave,
As witting16 I no other comfort have.
But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
FIRST JAILER Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come:
We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber,
And answer was returned that he will come.
MORTIMER Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied.
Poor gentleman, his wrong22 doth equal mine.
Since Henry Monmouth23 first began to reign,
Before whose glory I was great in arms,
This loathsome sequestration25 have I had:
And even26 since then hath Richard been obscured,
Deprived of honour and inheritance.
But now, the arbitrator28 of despairs,
Just death, kind umpire29 of men’s miseries,
With sweet enlargement30 doth dismiss me hence:
I would his31 troubles likewise were expired,
That so he might recover what was lost.
Enter Richard [Plantagenet]
FIRST JAILER My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
MORTIMER Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used35,
Your nephew, late36 despisèd Richard, comes.
MORTIMER Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck,
And in his bosom spend my latter38 gasp.
O tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
He embraces Richard
That I may kindly40 give one fainting kiss.
And now declare, sweet stem from York’s great stock41,
Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised?
RICHARD PLANTAGENET First, lean thine agèd back against mine arm,
And in that ease I’ll tell thee my disease44.
This day in argument upon a case,
Some words there grew ’twixt Somerset and me:
Among which terms he used his lavish47 tongue
And did upbraid me with my father’s death:
Which obloquy set bars before my tongue49,
Else with the like I had requited50 him.
Therefore, good uncle, for my father’s sake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,
And for alliance’ sake, declare53 the cause
My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
MORTIMER That cause, fair nephew, that imprisoned me
And hath detained me all my flowering youth
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was cursèd instrument of his decease.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET Discover more at large59 what cause that was,
60 For I am ignorant and cannot guess.
MORTIMER I will, if that my fading breath permit
And death approach not ere my tale be done.
Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king,
Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward’s son64,
The first begotten and the lawful heir
Of Edward king, the third of that descent,
During whose reign the Percies67 of the north,
Finding his usurpation most unjust,
Endeavoured my advancement to the throne.
The reason moved70 these warlike lords to this
Was for that — young King Richard thus removed,
Leaving no heir begotten of his body —
I was the next by birth and parentage:
For by my mother I derivèd74 am
From Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son
To King Edward the Third; whereas the king
From John of Gaunt77 doth bring his pedigree,
Being but fourth of that heroic line.
But mark: as in this haughty79 great attempt
They80 labourèd to plant the rightful heir,
I lost my liberty and they their lives.
Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,
Succeeding his father Bullingbrook83, did reign,
Thy father, Earl of Cambridge then, derived
From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
Again, in pity of my hard87 distress,
Levied an army, weening88 to redeem
And have installed me in the diadem89:
But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,
And was beheaded.
1 comment