Plan. O uncle, would some part of my young years Might but redeem the passage of your age! Mor. Thou dost, then, wrong me,—as the slaughterer doth, Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill. And so, farewell; and fair be all thy hopes, [Dies. [Exeunt Keepers, bearing out the body of Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Or make my ill th' advantage of my good. ACT III. [Exit. Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, As I, with sudden and extemporal speech, Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience, Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me. Win. Gloster, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouchsafe As he will have me, how am I so poor? As good! Thou bastard of my grandfather!- Thou art reverent Som. 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. [Aside.] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue, Lest it be said, "Speak, sirrah, when you should; K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, What tumult's this? K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, And, ere that we will suffer such a prince, We, and our wives, and children, all will fight, 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? Or who should study to prefer a peace, War. Yield, my lord protector;-yield, Winchester; Except you mean, with obstinate repulse, Win. He shall submit, or I will never yield. Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. K. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach, That malice was a great and grievous sin; War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly gird. For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent! Win. Well, duke of Gloster, I will yield to thee; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give. See here, my friends, and loving countrymen; Win. [Aside.] So help me God, as I intend it not! 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. I Serv. Content: I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv. And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. [Exeunt Mayor, serving-men, &r. 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, At Eltham place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. K. Hen. If Richard will be true, not that alone, But all the whole inheritance I give, That doth belong unto the house of York, From whence you spring by lineal descent. Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience, And humble service, till the point of death. K. Hen. Stoop, then, and set your knee against my foot; And, in reguerdon of that duty done, I girt thee with the valiant sword of York: [fall! Plan. And so thrive Richard as thy foes may And as my duty springs, so perish they That grudge one thought against your majesty! All. Welcome, high prince, the mighty duke of York! Som. [Aside.] Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York! Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, To cross the seas, and to be crown'd in France. As it disanimates his enemies. K. Hen. When Gloster says the word, king Henry For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Glo. Your ships already are in readiness. [goes; [Flourish. Exeunt all except EXETER. Exe. Ay, we may march in England, or i:: France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue. This late dissension, grown betwixt the peers, [Exit. SCENE II.] FIRST PART OF KING HENRY VI SCENE II.-FRANCE. Before ROUEN. Enter LA PUCELLE, disguised, and Soldiers dressed like countrymen, with sacks upon their backs. Puc. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach: Take heed, be wary how you place your words; Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men, That come to gather money for their corn. If we have entrance, (as I hope we shall,) And that we find the slothful watch but weak, I'll by a sign give notice to our friends, That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. 1 Sold. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city, And we be lords and rulers over Rouen; Therefore we'll knock. Guard. [Within.] Qui est là? [Knocks. Puc. Paisans, pauvres gens de France,- Puc. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENÇON, and forces. Char. Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem! Bast. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practisants; Alen. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower; Which, once decern'd, shows, that her meaning is, No way to that, for weakness, which she enter❜d. Enter LA PUCELLE on a battlement, holding out a torch Puc. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, Bast. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; The burning torch in yonder turret stands. Char. Now shine it like a comet of revenge, Alen. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; [They enter the town. Exit LA PUCELLE Alarum. Enter, from the town, TALBOT, and English Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, If Talbot but survive thy treachery.- Alarum: Excursions. [Exeunt into the town. Enter, from the town, BEDFORD, Puc. Good morrow, gallants! Want ye corn for I think the duke of Burgundy will fast, Before he 'll buy again at such a rate: Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason! Puc. What will you do, good gray-beard? break a lance, And run a tilt at death within a chair? Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardice a man half dead? Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. Puc. Are you so hot, Sir?-Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace; If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.[TALBOT and the rest consult together. God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field? Puc. Belike your lordship takes us, then, for fools, To try if that our own be ours, or no. Tal. speak not to that railing Hecate, Tal. Signior, hang!-base muleteers of France! Puc. Away, captains! let's get us from the walls; [Exeunt LA PUCELLE, &c., from the Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Bur. My vows are equal partners with thy vows. Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me: you. Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read, That stout Pendragon, in his litter, sick, Came to the field, and vanquished his foes: Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts, Because I ever found them as myself. Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!Then, be it so:-heavens keep old Bedford safe! |