Enter VERNON, and BASSET,

Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious fovereign! Baf. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too! Tork. This is my fervant; Hear him, noble prince! Som, And this is mine; Sweet Henry, favour him! K. Henry. Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak

Say, gentlemen, What makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom? Ver. With him, my lord; for he hath done me

wrong.

Baf. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. K. Henry. What is that wrong whereof you both complain?

First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
Baf. Croffing the sea from England into France,
This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rofe. I wear;
Saying the fanguine colour of the leaves
Did reprefent my mafter's blufhing cheeks,
When ftubbornly he did repugn the truth,
About a certain question in the law,
Argu'd betwixt the duke of York and him;
With other vile and ignominious terms:
In confutation of which rude reproach,
And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms

Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord :
For though he feem, with forged quaint conceit,
To fet a glofs upon his bold intent,

Yet know my lord, I was provok'd by him;
And he firft took exceptions, at this badge,
Pronouncing that the palenefs of this flower

Bewray'

Bewray'd the faintnefs of my mafter's heart.
York. Will not this malice, Somerfet, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my lord of York, will
Though ne'er fo cunningly you fmother it. [out,
K. Henry. Good Lord! what madness rules in
brain-fick men ;

When, for fo flight and frivolous a caufe,
Such factious emulations shall arife!-
Good coufins both, of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
York. Let this diffention first be try'd by fight,
And then your highness shall command a peace.
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone
Betwixt ourfelves let us decide it then.

York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. Ver. Nay, let it reft where it began at first. Baf. Confirm it fo, mine honourable lord. Glo. Confirm it fo? Confounded be your ftrife! And perish ye, with your audacious prate! Prefumptuous vaffals! are you not asham'd, With this immodeft clamorous outrage To trouble and disturb the king and us And you, my lords-methinks, you do not well, To bear with their perverfe objections; Much lefs, to take occafion from their mouths To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves; Let me perfuade you take a better course. Exe. It grieves his highness ;-Good my lords, be friends.

K. Henry. Come hither, you that would be combatants;

Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel, and the caufe.--
And you, my lords-remember where we are ;

In

In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation:
If they perceive dissention in our looks,
And that within ourfelves we difagree,
How will their grudging ftomachs be provok'd
To wilful difobedience and rebel?

Befide, What infamy will there arife,
When foreign princes thall be certify'd,
That, for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's peers, and chief nobility,
Deftroy'd themselves, and loft the realm of France?
O, think upon the conqueft of my father,
My tender years; and let us not forego
That for a trifle, which was bought with blood!
Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.

I fee no reafon, if I wear this rofe,

[Putting on a red rose.
That any one should therefore be fufpicious
I more incline to Somerset, than York:
Both are my kinfmen, and I love them both :
As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
Because, forfooth, the king of Scots is crown'd.
But your difcretions better can perfuade,
Than I am able to instruct or teach:
And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us still continue peace and love.—
Coufin of York, we institute your grace
To be our regent in these parts of France :-
And good my lord of Somerset, unite

Your troop of horsemen with his bands of foot ;-
And, like true fubjects, fons of your progenitors,
Go cheerfully together, and digest
Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourself, my lord protector, and the rest,
After fome refpite, will return to Calais;

From

From thence to England; where I hope ere long To be presented, by your victories,

With Charles Alençon, and that traiterous rout. [Flourish. Excunt.

Manent YORK, WARWICK, EXETER, and VERNON.
War. My lord of York, I promise you, the king
Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
York. And fo he did; but yet I like it not,
In that he wears the badge of Somerset.

War. Tufh! that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare prefume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. York. And, if I wift, he did-But let it reft; Other affairs must now be managed.

Manent EXETER.

[Exeunt.

Exe. Well didft thou, Richard, to fupprefs thy
For, had the paffion of thy heart burst out, [voice:
I fear, we fhould have feen decypher'd there
More rancorous fpight, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or fuppos'd.

But howfoe'er, no fimple man that fees
This jarring difcord of nobility,

This factious bandying of their favourites,
But that he doth prefage fome ill event.
'Tis much, when fceptres are in children's hands;
But more, when envy breeds unkind divifion;
There comes the ruin, there begins confufion. [Exit.

SCENE II. Before the Walls of Bourdeaux.

Enter TALBOT, with Trumpets and Drum, Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter, Summon their general unto the wall.

G

[Sounds. Enter

Enter General aloft.

English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry king of England;
And thus he would-Open your city gates,
Be humbled to us; call my fovereign yours,
And do him homage as obedient fubjects,
And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power:
But, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
Lean famine, quartering fteel, and climbing fire;
Who in a moment, even with the earth
Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers,
If you forfake the offer of their love.

Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror, and their bloody scourge !
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On us thou canst not enter, but by death:
For, I protest we are well fortify'd,

And ftrong enough to iffue out and fight!
If thou retire, the dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the fnares of war to tangle thee:
On either hand thee there are fquadrons pitch'd,
To wall thee from the liberty of flight;
And no way canst thou turn thee for redress,
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil,
And pale deftruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the facrament,
To rive their dangerous artillery

Upon no Chriftian foul but English Talbot.
Lo! there thou ftand'ft, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible unconquer'd fpirit:
This is the latest glory of thy praife,
That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;

For