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I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
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Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
Henry V
,
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, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
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With an underage boy now king of England,
Henry VI, Part 1
, depicts the collapse of England’s role in France, as English nobles fight each other instead of the French and as Joan la Pucelle (Joan of Arc) brings military strength to the French army. The English hero Lord Talbot attacks Orleans, but is defeated by Joan.
In England, Gloucester, Henry VI’s Protector, and Gloucester’s rival Winchester encourage their followers to attack each other in the streets. Richard Plantagenet (later the Duke of York) and Somerset are equally antagonistic, with their followers signaling their allegiance by wearing white or red roses.
Henry VI is crowned in Paris, and orders York and Somerset to fight the French instead of each other. As they squabble, French forces kill Talbot and his son. The English army captures and executes Joan. Suffolk arranges a marriage between Henry and Margaret, daughter of the king of Naples, in order to keep her near him and give him, through her, control of England.
ACT
1
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
,
with
Heralds
and
Attendants
.
Hung
be
the
heavens
with
black
,
yield
day
to
night
!
Comets
,
importing
change
of
times
and
states
,
Brandish
your
crystal
tresses
in
the
sky
,
And
with
them
scourge
the
bad
revolting
stars
That
have
consented
unto
Henry’s
death
:
King
Henry
the
Fifth
,
too
famous
to
live
long
.
England
ne’er
lost
a
king
of
so
much
worth
.
England
ne’er
had
a
king
until
his
time
.
Virtue
he
had
,
deserving
to
command
;
His
brandished
sword
did
blind
men
with
his
beams
;
His
arms
spread
wider
than
a
dragon’s
wings
;
His
sparkling
eyes
,
replete
with
wrathful
fire
,
More
dazzled
and
drove
back
his
enemies
Than
midday
sun
fierce
bent
against
their
faces
.
What
should
I
say
?
His
deeds
exceed
all
speech
.
He
ne’er
lift
up
his
hand
but
conquerèd
.
We
mourn
in
black
;
why
mourn
we
not
in
blood
?
Henry
is
dead
and
never
shall
revive
.
Upon
a
wooden
coffin
we
attend
,
And
Death’s
dishonorable
victory
ACT 1. SC. 1
We
with
our
stately
presence
glorify
,
Like
captives
bound
to
a
triumphant
car
.
What
?
Shall
we
curse
the
planets
of
mishap
That
plotted
thus
our
glory’s
overthrow
?
Or
shall
we
think
the
subtle-witted
French
Conjurers
and
sorcerers
,
that
,
afraid
of
him
,
By
magic
verses
have
contrived
his
end
?
He
was
a
king
blest
of
the
King
of
kings
;
Unto
the
French
the
dreadful
Judgment
Day
So
dreadful
will
not
be
as
was
his
sight
.
The
battles
of
the
Lord
of
Hosts
he
fought
;
The
Church’s
prayers
made
him
so
prosperous
.
The
Church
?
Where
is
it
?
Had
not
churchmen
prayed
,
His
thread
of
life
had
not
so
soon
decayed
.
None
do
you
like
but
an
effeminate
prince
Whom
like
a
schoolboy
you
may
overawe
.
Gloucester
,
whate’er
we
like
,
thou
art
Protector
And
lookest
to
command
the
Prince
and
realm
.
Thy
wife
is
proud
;
she
holdeth
thee
in
awe
More
than
God
or
religious
churchmen
may
.
Name
not
religion
,
for
thou
lov’st
the
flesh
,
And
ne’er
throughout
the
year
to
church
thou
go’st
,
Except
it
be
to
pray
against
thy
foes
.
Cease
,
cease
these
jars
,
and
rest
your
minds
in
peace
!
Let’s
to
the
altar
.
—
Heralds
,
wait
on
us
.
—
Instead
of
gold
,
we’ll
offer
up
our
arms
,
Since
arms
avail
not
,
now
that
Henry’s
dead
.
Posterity
,
await
for
wretched
years
When
at
their
mothers’
moistened
eyes
babes
shall
suck
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
Our
isle
be
made
a
nourish
of
salt
tears
,
And
none
but
women
left
to
wail
the
dead
.
Henry
the
Fifth
,
thy
ghost
I
invocate
:
Prosper
this
realm
,
keep
it
from
civil
broils
,
Combat
with
adverse
planets
in
the
heavens
.
A
far
more
glorious
star
thy
soul
will
make
Than
Julius
Caesar
or
bright
—
Enter
a
Messenger
.
My
honorable
lords
,
health
to
you
all
.
Sad
tidings
bring
I
to
you
out
of
France
,
Of
loss
,
of
slaughter
,
and
discomfiture
:
Guyen
,
Champaigne
,
Rheims
,
Roan
,
Orleance
,
Paris
,
Gisors
,
Poitiers
,
are
all
quite
lost
.
What
say’st
thou
,
man
,
before
dead
Henry’s
corse
?
Speak
softly
,
or
the
loss
of
those
great
towns
Will
make
him
burst
his
lead
and
rise
from
death
.
Is
Paris
lost
?
Is
Roan
yielded
up
?
If
Henry
were
recalled
to
life
again
,
These
news
would
cause
him
once
more
yield
the
ghost
.
How
were
they
lost
?
What
treachery
was
used
?
No
treachery
,
but
want
of
men
and
money
.
Amongst
the
soldiers
,
this
is
mutterèd
:
That
here
you
maintain
several
factions
And
,
whilst
a
field
should
be
dispatched
and
fought
,
You
are
disputing
of
your
generals
.
One
would
have
ling’ring
wars
with
little
cost
;
Another
would
fly
swift
,
but
wanteth
wings
;
A
third
thinks
,
without
expense
at
all
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
By
guileful
fair
words
peace
may
be
obtained
.
Awake
,
awake
,
English
nobility
!
Let
not
sloth
dim
your
honors
new
begot
.
Cropped
are
the
flower-de-luces
in
your
arms
;
Of
England’s
coat
,
one
half
is
cut
away
.
He
exits
.
Were
our
tears
wanting
to
this
funeral
,
These
tidings
would
call
forth
her
flowing
tides
.
Me
they
concern
;
regent
I
am
of
France
.
Give
me
my
steelèd
coat
,
I’ll
fight
for
France
.
Away
with
these
disgraceful
wailing
robes
.
Wounds
will
I
lend
the
French
instead
of
eyes
To
weep
their
intermissive
miseries
.
Enter
to
them
another
Messenger
,
with
papers
.
Lords
,
view
these
letters
,
full
of
bad
mischance
.
France
is
revolted
from
the
English
quite
,
Except
some
petty
towns
of
no
import
.
The
Dauphin
Charles
is
crownèd
king
in
Rheims
;
The
Bastard
of
Orleance
with
him
is
joined
;
Reignier
,
Duke
of
Anjou
,
doth
take
his
part
;
The
Duke
of
Alanson
flieth
to
his
side
.
He
exits
.
The
Dauphin
crownèd
king
?
All
fly
to
him
?
O
,
whither
shall
we
fly
from
this
reproach
?
We
will
not
fly
but
to
our
enemies’
throats
.
—
Bedford
,
if
thou
be
slack
,
I’ll
fight
it
out
.
Gloucester
,
why
doubt’st
thou
of
my
forwardness
?
An
army
have
I
mustered
in
my
thoughts
,
Wherewith
already
France
is
overrun
.
Enter
another
Messenger
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
My
gracious
lords
,
to
add
to
your
laments
,
Wherewith
you
now
bedew
King
Henry’s
hearse
,
I
must
inform
you
of
a
dismal
fight
Betwixt
the
stout
Lord
Talbot
and
the
French
.
What
?
Wherein
Talbot
overcame
,
is
’t
so
?
O
no
,
wherein
Lord
Talbot
was
o’erthrown
.
The
circumstance
I’ll
tell
you
more
at
large
.
The
tenth
of
August
last
,
this
dreadful
lord
,
Retiring
from
the
siege
of
Orleance
,
Having
full
scarce
six
thousand
in
his
troop
,
By
three
and
twenty
thousand
of
the
French
Was
round
encompassèd
and
set
upon
.
No
leisure
had
he
to
enrank
his
men
.
He
wanted
pikes
to
set
before
his
archers
,
Instead
whereof
,
sharp
stakes
plucked
out
of
hedges
They
pitchèd
in
the
ground
confusedly
To
keep
the
horsemen
off
from
breaking
in
.
More
than
three
hours
the
fight
continuèd
,
Where
valiant
Talbot
,
above
human
thought
,
Enacted
wonders
with
his
sword
and
lance
.
Hundreds
he
sent
to
hell
,
and
none
durst
stand
him
;
Here
,
there
,
and
everywhere
,
enraged
,
he
slew
.
The
French
exclaimed
the
devil
was
in
arms
;
All
the
whole
army
stood
agazed
on
him
.
His
soldiers
,
spying
his
undaunted
spirit
,
À
Talbot
!
À
Talbot
!
cried
out
amain
And
rushed
into
the
bowels
of
the
battle
.
Here
had
the
conquest
fully
been
sealed
up
If
Sir
John
Fastolf
had
not
played
the
coward
.
He
,
being
in
the
vaward
,
placed
behind
With
purpose
to
relieve
and
follow
them
,
Cowardly
fled
,
not
having
struck
one
stroke
.
Hence
grew
the
general
wrack
and
massacre
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
Enclosèd
were
they
with
their
enemies
.
A
base
Walloon
,
to
win
the
Dauphin’s
grace
,
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
.
Is
Talbot
slain
then
?
I
will
slay
myself
For
living
idly
here
,
in
pomp
and
ease
,
Whilst
such
a
worthy
leader
,
wanting
aid
,
Unto
his
dastard
foemen
is
betrayed
.
O
,
no
,
he
lives
,
but
is
took
prisoner
,
And
Lord
Scales
with
him
,
and
Lord
Hungerford
;
Most
of
the
rest
slaughtered
or
took
likewise
.
His
ransom
there
is
none
but
I
shall
pay
.
I’ll
hale
the
Dauphin
headlong
from
his
throne
;
His
crown
shall
be
the
ransom
of
my
friend
.
Four
of
their
lords
I’ll
change
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
withal
.
Ten
thousand
soldiers
with
me
I
will
take
,
Whose
bloody
deeds
shall
make
all
Europe
quake
.
So
you
had
need
;
’fore
Orleance
besieged
,
The
English
army
is
grown
weak
and
faint
;
The
Earl
of
Salisbury
craveth
supply
And
hardly
keeps
his
men
from
mutiny
,
Since
they
so
few
watch
such
a
multitude
.
He
exits
.
Remember
,
lords
,
your
oaths
to
Henry
sworn
:
Either
to
quell
the
Dauphin
utterly
Or
bring
him
in
obedience
to
your
yoke
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
I
do
remember
it
,
and
here
take
my
leave
To
go
about
my
preparation
.
Bedford
exits
.
I’ll
to
the
Tower
with
all
the
haste
I
can
To
view
th’
artillery
and
munition
,
And
then
I
will
proclaim
young
Henry
king
.
Gloucester
exits
.
To
Eltham
will
I
,
where
the
young
king
is
,
Being
ordained
his
special
governor
;
And
for
his
safety
there
I’ll
best
devise
.
He
exits
.
,
aside
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-office
.
The
King
from
Eltham
I
intend
to
steal
,
And
sit
at
chiefest
stern
of
public
weal
.
He
exits
at
one
door
;
at
another
door
,
Warwick
,
Somerset
,
Attendants
and
Heralds
exit
with
the
coffin
.
Scene
2
Sound
a
flourish
.
Enter
Charles
the
Dauphin
,
Alanson
,
and
Reignier
,
marching
with
Drum
and
Soldiers
.
Mars
his
true
moving
,
even
as
in
the
heavens
So
in
the
Earth
earth
,
to
this
day
is
not
known
.
Late
did
he
shine
upon
the
English
side
;
Now
we
are
victors
;
upon
us
he
smiles
.
What
towns
of
any
moment
but
we
have
?
At
pleasure
here
we
lie
,
near
Orleance
.
Otherwhiles
,
the
famished
English
,
like
pale
ghosts
,
Faintly
besiege
us
one
hour
in
a
month
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
They
want
their
porridge
and
their
fat
bull
beeves
.
Either
they
must
be
dieted
like
mules
And
have
their
provender
tied
to
their
mouths
,
Or
piteous
they
will
look
,
like
drownèd
mice
.
Let’s
raise
the
siege
.
Why
live
we
idly
here
?
Talbot
is
taken
,
whom
we
wont
to
fear
.
Remaineth
none
but
mad-brained
Salisbury
,
And
he
may
well
in
fretting
spend
his
gall
;
Nor
men
nor
money
hath
he
to
make
war
.
Sound
,
sound
alarum
!
We
will
rush
on
them
.
Now
for
the
honor
of
the
forlorn
French
!
Him
I
forgive
my
death
that
killeth
me
When
he
sees
me
go
back
one
foot
,
or
fly
.
They
exit
.
Here
alarum
.
They
are
beaten
back
by
the
English
,
with
great
loss
.
Enter
Charles
,
Alanson
,
and
Reignier
.
Whoever
saw
the
like
?
What
men
have
I
!
Dogs
,
cowards
,
dastards
!
I
would
ne’er
have
fled
But
that
they
left
me
’midst
my
enemies
.
Salisbury
is
a
desperate
homicide
.
He
fighteth
as
one
weary
of
his
life
.
The
other
lords
,
like
lions
wanting
food
,
Do
rush
upon
us
as
their
hungry
prey
.
Froissart
,
a
countryman
of
ours
,
records
England
all
Olivers
and
Rolands
bred
During
the
time
Edward
the
Third
did
reign
.
More
truly
now
may
this
be
verified
,
For
none
but
Samsons
and
Goliases
It
sendeth
forth
to
skirmish
.
One
to
ten
!
ACT 1. SC. 2
Lean
rawboned
rascals
!
Who
would
e’er
suppose
They
had
such
courage
and
audacity
?
Let’s
leave
this
town
,
for
they
are
hare-brained
slaves
,
And
hunger
will
enforce
them
to
be
more
eager
.
Of
old
I
know
them
;
rather
with
their
teeth
The
walls
they’ll
tear
down
than
forsake
the
siege
.
I
think
by
some
odd
gimmers
or
device
Their
arms
are
set
,
like
clocks
,
still
to
strike
on
;
Else
ne’er
could
they
hold
out
so
as
they
do
.
By
my
consent
,
we’ll
even
let
them
alone
.
Be
it
so
.
Enter
the
Bastard
of
Orleance
.
Where’s
the
Prince
Dauphin
?
I
have
news
for
him
.
Bastard
of
Orleance
,
thrice
welcome
to
us
.
Methinks
your
looks
are
sad
,
your
cheer
appalled
.
Hath
the
late
overthrow
wrought
this
offence
?
Be
not
dismayed
,
for
succor
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
tedious
siege
And
drive
the
English
forth
the
bounds
of
France
.
The
spirit
of
deep
prophecy
she
hath
,
Exceeding
the
nine
Sibyls
of
old
Rome
.
What’s
past
and
what’s
to
come
she
can
descry
.
Speak
,
shall
I
call
her
in
?
Believe
my
words
,
For
they
are
certain
and
unfallible
.
Go
call
her
in
.
Bastard
exits
.
But
first
,
to
try
her
skill
,
Reignier
,
stand
thou
as
Dauphin
in
my
place
;
ACT 1. SC. 2
Question
her
proudly
;
let
thy
looks
be
stern
.
By
this
means
shall
we
sound
what
skill
she
hath
.
Enter
Bastard
,
with
Joan
la
Pucelle
.
,
as
Charles
Fair
maid
,
is
’t
thou
wilt
do
these
wondrous
feats
?
Reignier
,
is
’t
thou
that
thinkest
to
beguile
me
?
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
apart
.
—
Stand
back
,
you
lords
,
and
give
us
leave
a
while
.
She
takes
upon
her
bravely
at
first
dash
.
Alanson
,
Reignier
,
and
Bastard
exit
.
Dauphin
,
I
am
by
birth
a
shepherd’s
daughter
,
My
wit
untrained
in
any
kind
of
art
.
Heaven
and
Our
Lady
gracious
hath
it
pleased
To
shine
on
my
contemptible
estate
.
Lo
,
whilst
I
waited
on
my
tender
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
complete
glory
she
revealed
herself
;
And
whereas
I
was
black
and
swart
before
,
With
those
clear
rays
which
she
infused
on
me
That
beauty
am
I
blest
with
,
which
you
may
see
.
Ask
me
what
question
thou
canst
possible
,
And
I
will
answer
unpremeditated
.
My
courage
try
by
combat
,
if
thou
dar’st
,
And
thou
shalt
find
that
I
exceed
my
sex
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Resolve
on
this
:
thou
shalt
be
fortunate
If
thou
receive
me
for
thy
warlike
mate
.
Thou
hast
astonished
me
with
thy
high
terms
.
Only
this
proof
I’ll
of
thy
valor
make
:
In
single
combat
thou
shalt
buckle
with
me
,
And
if
thou
vanquishest
,
thy
words
are
true
;
Otherwise
I
renounce
all
confidence
.
I
am
prepared
.
Here
is
my
keen-edged
sword
,
Decked
with
fine
flower-de-luces
on
each
side
—
Aside
.
The
which
at
Touraine
,
in
Saint
Katherine’s
churchyard
,
Out
of
a
great
deal
of
old
iron
I
chose
forth
.
Then
come
,
a’
God’s
name
!
I
fear
no
woman
.
And
while
I
live
,
I’ll
ne’er
fly
from
a
man
.
Here
they
fight
,
and
Joan
la
Pucelle
overcomes
.
Stay
,
stay
thy
hands
!
Thou
art
an
Amazon
,
And
fightest
with
the
sword
of
Deborah
.
Christ’s
mother
helps
me
;
else
I
were
too
weak
.
Whoe’er
helps
thee
,
’tis
thou
that
must
help
me
.
Impatiently
I
burn
with
thy
desire
.
My
heart
and
hands
thou
hast
at
once
subdued
.
Excellent
Pucelle
,
if
thy
name
be
so
,
Let
me
thy
servant
and
not
sovereign
be
.
’Tis
the
French
Dauphin
sueth
to
thee
thus
.
I
must
not
yield
to
any
rights
of
love
,
For
my
profession’s
sacred
from
above
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
When
I
have
chasèd
all
thy
foes
from
hence
,
Then
will
I
think
upon
a
recompense
.
Meantime
look
gracious
on
thy
prostrate
thrall
.
Enter
Reignier
and
Alanson
.
,
aside
to
Alanson
My
lord
,
methinks
,
is
very
long
in
talk
.
,
aside
to
Reignier
Doubtless
he
shrives
this
woman
to
her
smock
,
Else
ne’er
could
he
so
long
protract
his
speech
.
,
aside
to
Alanson
Shall
we
disturb
him
,
since
he
keeps
no
mean
?
,
aside
to
Reignier
He
may
mean
more
than
we
poor
men
do
know
.
These
women
are
shrewd
tempters
with
their
tongues
.
,
to
Charles
My
lord
,
where
are
you
?
What
devise
you
on
?
Shall
we
give
o’er
Orleance
,
or
no
?
Why
,
no
,
I
say
.
Distrustful
recreants
,
Fight
till
the
last
gasp
.
I’ll
be
your
guard
.
What
she
says
I’ll
confirm
:
we’ll
fight
it
out
.
Assigned
am
I
to
be
the
English
scourge
.
This
night
the
siege
assuredly
I’ll
raise
.
Expect
Saint
Martin’s
summer
,
halcyons’
days
,
Since
I
have
enterèd
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
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Now
am
I
like
that
proud
insulting
ship
Which
Caesar
and
his
fortune
bare
at
once
.
Was
Mahomet
inspirèd
with
a
dove
?
Thou
with
an
eagle
art
inspirèd
then
.
Helen
,
the
mother
of
great
Constantine
,
Nor
yet
Saint
Philip’s
daughters
were
like
thee
.
Bright
star
of
Venus
,
fall’n
down
on
the
Earth
earth
,
How
may
I
reverently
worship
thee
enough
?
Leave
off
delays
,
and
let
us
raise
the
siege
.
Woman
,
do
what
thou
canst
to
save
our
honors
.
Drive
them
from
Orleance
and
be
immortalized
.
Presently
we’ll
try
.
Come
,
let’s
away
about
it
.
No
prophet
will
I
trust
if
she
prove
false
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Gloucester
with
his
Servingmen
in
blue
coats
.
I
am
come
to
survey
the
Tower
this
day
.
Since
Henry’s
death
I
fear
there
is
conveyance
.
Where
be
these
warders
that
they
wait
not
here
?
—
Open
the
gates
!
’Tis
Gloucester
that
calls
.
Servingmen
knock
at
the
gate
.
,
within
Who’s
there
that
knocks
so
imperiously
?
It
is
the
noble
Duke
of
Gloucester
.
,
within
Whoe’er
he
be
,
you
may
not
be
let
in
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Villains
,
answer
you
so
the
Lord
Protector
?
,
within
The
Lord
protect
him
,
so
we
answer
him
.
We
do
no
otherwise
than
we
are
willed
.
Who
willed
you
?
Or
whose
will
stands
but
mine
?
There’s
none
Protector
of
the
realm
but
I
.
—
Break
up
the
gates
!
I’ll
be
your
warrantize
.
Shall
I
be
flouted
thus
by
dunghill
grooms
?
Gloucester’s
men
rush
at
the
Tower
gates
,
and
Woodville
,
the
lieutenant
,
speaks
within
.
What
noise
is
this
?
What
traitors
have
we
here
?
Lieutenant
,
is
it
you
whose
voice
I
hear
?
Open
the
gates
.
Here’s
Gloucester
that
would
enter
.
Have
patience
,
noble
duke
,
I
may
not
open
.
The
Cardinal
of
Winchester
forbids
.
From
him
I
have
express
commandment
That
thou
nor
none
of
thine
shall
be
let
in
.
Fainthearted
Woodville
,
prizest
him
’fore
me
?
Arrogant
Winchester
,
that
haughty
prelate
Whom
Henry
,
our
late
sovereign
,
ne’er
could
brook
?
Thou
art
no
friend
to
God
or
to
the
King
.
Open
the
gates
,
or
I’ll
shut
thee
out
shortly
.
Open
the
gates
unto
the
Lord
Protector
,
Or
we’ll
burst
them
open
if
that
you
come
not
quickly
.
Enter
,
to
the
Protector
at
the
Tower
gates
,
Winchester
in
cardinal’s
robes
and
his
men
in
tawny
coats
.
How
now
,
ambitious
Humphrey
,
what
means
this
?
ACT 1. SC. 3
Peeled
priest
,
dost
thou
command
me
to
be
shut
out
?
I
do
,
thou
most
usurping
proditor
—
And
not
Protector
—
of
the
King
or
realm
.
Stand
back
,
thou
manifest
conspirator
,
Thou
that
contrived’st
to
murder
our
dead
lord
,
Thou
that
giv’st
whores
indulgences
to
sin
!
I’ll
canvass
thee
in
thy
broad
cardinal’s
hat
If
thou
proceed
in
this
thy
insolence
.
Nay
,
stand
thou
back
.
I
will
not
budge
a
foot
.
This
be
Damascus
;
be
thou
cursèd
Cain
To
slay
thy
brother
Abel
,
if
thou
wilt
.
I
will
not
slay
thee
,
but
I’ll
drive
thee
back
.
Thy
scarlet
robes
,
as
a
child’s
bearing-cloth
,
I’ll
use
to
carry
thee
out
of
this
place
.
Do
what
thou
dar’st
,
I
beard
thee
to
thy
face
.
What
,
am
I
dared
and
bearded
to
my
face
?
—
Draw
,
men
,
for
all
this
privilegèd
place
.
Blue
coats
to
tawny
coats
!
All
draw
their
swords
.
Priest
,
beware
your
beard
.
I
mean
to
tug
it
and
to
cuff
you
soundly
.
Under
my
feet
I’ll
stamp
thy
cardinal’s
hat
;
In
spite
of
pope
or
dignities
of
Church
,
Here
by
the
cheeks
I’ll
drag
thee
up
and
down
.
Gloucester
,
thou
wilt
answer
this
before
the
Pope
.
Winchester
goose
,
I
cry
a
rope
,
a
rope
!
—
Now
beat
them
hence
;
why
do
you
let
them
stay
?
—
ACT 1. SC. 3
Thee
I’ll
chase
hence
,
thou
wolf
in
sheep’s
array
.
—
Out
,
tawny
coats
,
out
,
scarlet
hypocrite
!
Here
Gloucester’s
men
beat
out
the
Cardinal’s
men
,
and
enter
in
the
hurly-burly
the
Mayor
of
London
and
his
Officers
.
Fie
,
lords
,
that
you
,
being
supreme
magistrates
,
Thus
contumeliously
should
break
the
peace
!
Peace
,
Mayor
?
Thou
know’st
little
of
my
wrongs
.
Here’s
Beaufort
,
that
regards
nor
God
nor
king
,
Hath
here
distrained
the
Tower
to
his
use
.
Here’s
Gloucester
,
a
foe
to
citizens
,
One
that
still
motions
war
and
never
peace
,
O’ercharging
your
free
purses
with
large
fines
;
That
seeks
to
overthrow
religion
Because
he
is
Protector
of
the
realm
,
And
would
have
armor
here
out
of
the
Tower
To
crown
himself
king
and
suppress
the
Prince
.
I
will
not
answer
thee
with
words
,
but
blows
.
Here
they
skirmish
again
.
Naught
rests
for
me
in
this
tumultuous
strife
But
to
make
open
proclamation
.
Come
,
officer
,
as
loud
as
e’er
thou
canst
,
cry
.
He
hands
an
Officer
a
paper
.
reads
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
repair
to
your
several
dwelling
places
,
and
not
to
wear
,
handle
,
or
use
any
sword
,
weapon
,
or
dagger
henceforward
,
upon
pain
of
death
.
ACT 1. SC. 4
Cardinal
,
I’ll
be
no
breaker
of
the
law
,
But
we
shall
meet
and
break
our
minds
at
large
.
Gloucester
,
we’ll
meet
to
thy
cost
,
be
sure
.
Thy
heartblood
I
will
have
for
this
day’s
work
.
I’ll
call
for
clubs
if
you
will
not
away
.
(
Aside
.
)
This
cardinal’s
more
haughty
than
the
devil
!
Mayor
,
farewell
.
Thou
dost
but
what
thou
mayst
.
Abominable
Gloucester
,
guard
thy
head
,
For
I
intend
to
have
it
ere
long
.
Gloucester
and
Winchester
exit
at
separate
doors
,
with
their
Servingmen
.
,
to
Officers
See
the
coast
cleared
,
and
then
we
will
depart
.
(
Aside
.
)
Good
God
,
these
nobles
should
such
stomachs
bear
!
I
myself
fight
not
once
in
forty
year
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Enter
the
Master
Gunner
of
Orleance
and
his
Boy
.
Sirrah
,
thou
know’st
how
Orleance
is
besieged
And
how
the
English
have
the
suburbs
won
.
Father
,
I
know
,
and
oft
have
shot
at
them
;
Howe’er
,
unfortunate
,
I
missed
my
aim
.
But
now
thou
shalt
not
.
Be
thou
ruled
by
me
.
Chief
master-gunner
am
I
of
this
town
;
ACT 1. SC. 4
Something
I
must
do
to
procure
me
grace
.
The
Prince’s
espials
have
informèd
me
How
the
English
,
in
the
suburbs
close
entrenched
,
Went
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
inconvenience
,
A
piece
of
ordnance
’gainst
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
.
He
exits
.
Father
,
I
warrant
you
,
take
you
no
care
;
I’ll
never
trouble
you
if
I
may
spy
them
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Salisbury
and
Talbot
on
the
turrets
,
with
Sir
William
Glansdale
,
Sir
Thomas
Gargrave
,
Attendants
and
Others
.
Talbot
,
my
life
,
my
joy
,
again
returned
!
How
wert
thou
handled
,
being
prisoner
?
Or
by
what
means
gott’st
thou
to
be
released
?
Discourse
,
I
prithee
,
on
this
turret’s
top
.
The
Duke
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-arms
by
far
Once
in
contempt
they
would
have
bartered
me
,
Which
I
disdaining
,
scorned
,
and
cravèd
death
Rather
than
I
would
be
so
vile-esteemed
.
In
fine
,
redeemed
I
was
as
I
desired
.
But
O
,
the
treacherous
Fastolf
wounds
my
heart
,
ACT 1. SC. 4
Whom
with
my
bare
fists
I
would
execute
If
I
now
had
him
brought
into
my
power
.
Yet
tell’st
thou
not
how
thou
wert
entertained
.
With
scoffs
and
scorns
and
contumelious
taunts
.
In
open
marketplace
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
grisly
countenance
made
others
fly
;
None
durst
come
near
for
fear
of
sudden
death
.
In
iron
walls
they
deemed
me
not
secure
:
So
great
fear
of
my
name
’mongst
them
were
spread
That
they
supposed
I
could
rend
bars
of
steel
And
spurn
in
pieces
posts
of
adamant
.
Wherefore
a
guard
of
chosen
shot
I
had
That
walked
about
me
every
minute-while
;
And
if
I
did
but
stir
out
of
my
bed
,
Ready
they
were
to
shoot
me
to
the
heart
.
Enter
the
Boy
with
a
linstock
.
He
crosses
the
main
stage
and
exits
.
I
grieve
to
hear
what
torments
you
endured
,
But
we
will
be
revenged
sufficiently
.
Now
it
is
supper
time
in
Orleance
.
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
Glansdale
,
Let
me
have
your
express
opinions
Where
is
best
place
to
make
our
batt’ry
next
?
ACT 1. SC. 4
I
think
at
the
north
gate
,
for
there
stands
lords
.
And
I
,
here
,
at
the
bulwark
of
the
bridge
.
For
aught
I
see
,
this
city
must
be
famished
Or
with
light
skirmishes
enfeeblèd
.
Here
they
shoot
,
and
Salisbury
and
Gargrave
fall
down
.
O
Lord
,
have
mercy
on
us
,
wretched
sinners
!
O
Lord
,
have
mercy
on
me
,
woeful
man
!
What
chance
is
this
that
suddenly
hath
crossed
us
?
—
Speak
,
Salisbury
—
at
least
if
thou
canst
,
speak
!
How
far’st
thou
,
mirror
of
all
martial
men
?
One
of
thy
eyes
and
thy
cheek’s
side
struck
off
!
—
Accursèd
tower
,
accursèd
fatal
hand
That
hath
contrived
this
woeful
tragedy
!
In
thirteen
battles
Salisbury
o’ercame
;
Henry
the
Fifth
he
first
trained
to
the
wars
.
Whilst
any
trump
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
wants
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
.
Attendants
exit
with
body
of
Gargrave
.
Salisbury
,
cheer
thy
spirit
with
this
comfort
,
Thou
shalt
not
die
whiles
—
ACT 1. SC. 5
He
beckons
with
his
hand
and
smiles
on
me
As
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
burn
.
Wretched
shall
France
be
only
in
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
.
My
lord
,
my
lord
,
the
French
have
gathered
head
.
The
Dauphin
,
with
one
Joan
la
Pucelle
joined
,
A
holy
prophetess
new
risen
up
,
Is
come
with
a
great
power
to
raise
the
siege
.
Here
Salisbury
lifteth
himself
up
and
groans
.
Hear
,
hear
,
how
dying
Salisbury
doth
groan
;
It
irks
his
heart
he
cannot
be
revenged
.
Frenchmen
,
I’ll
be
a
Salisbury
to
you
.
Pucelle
or
puzel
,
dauphin
or
dogfish
,
Your
hearts
I’ll
stamp
out
with
my
horse’s
heels
And
make
a
quagmire
of
your
mingled
brains
.
Convey
we
Salisbury
into
his
tent
,
And
then
try
what
these
dastard
Frenchmen
dare
.
Alarum
.
They
exit
.
Scene
5
Here
an
alarum
again
,
and
Talbot
pursueth
the
Dauphin
and
driveth
him
;
then
enter
Joan
la
Pucelle
,
driving
Englishmen
before
her
.
They
cross
the
stage
and
exit
.
Then
enter
Talbot
.
ACT 1. SC. 5
Where
is
my
strength
,
my
valor
,
and
my
force
?
Our
English
troops
retire
;
I
cannot
stay
them
.
A
woman
clad
in
armor
chaseth
them
.
Enter
Pucelle
,
with
Soldiers
.
Here
,
here
she
comes
!
—
I’ll
have
a
bout
with
thee
.
Devil
or
devil’s
dam
,
I’ll
conjure
thee
.
Blood
will
I
draw
on
thee
—
thou
art
a
witch
—
And
straightway
give
thy
soul
to
him
thou
serv’st
.
Come
,
come
;
’tis
only
I
that
must
disgrace
thee
.
Here
they
fight
.
Heavens
,
can
you
suffer
hell
so
to
prevail
?
My
breast
I’ll
burst
with
straining
of
my
courage
,
And
from
my
shoulders
crack
my
arms
asunder
,
But
I
will
chastise
this
high-minded
strumpet
.
They
fight
again
.
Talbot
,
farewell
.
Thy
hour
is
not
yet
come
.
I
must
go
victual
Orleance
forthwith
.
A
short
alarum
.
Then
she
prepares
to
enter
the
town
with
Soldiers
.
O’ertake
me
if
thou
canst
.
I
scorn
thy
strength
.
Go
,
go
,
cheer
up
thy
hunger-starvèd
men
.
Help
Salisbury
to
make
his
testament
.
This
day
is
ours
,
as
many
more
shall
be
.
She
exits
with
Soldiers
.
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
Hannibal
—
Drives
back
our
troops
,
and
conquers
as
she
lists
.
So
bees
with
smoke
and
doves
with
noisome
stench
ACT 1. SC. 6
Are
from
their
hives
and
houses
driven
away
.
They
called
us
,
for
our
fierceness
,
English
dogs
;
Now
like
to
whelps
we
crying
run
away
.
A
short
alarum
.
Enter
English
soldiers
,
chased
by
French
soldiers
.
Hark
,
countrymen
,
either
renew
the
fight
,
Or
tear
the
lions
out
of
England’s
coat
.
Renounce
your
soil
;
give
sheep
in
lions’
stead
.
Sheep
run
not
half
so
treacherous
from
the
wolf
,
Or
horse
or
oxen
from
the
leopard
,
As
you
fly
from
your
oft-subduèd
slaves
.
Alarum
.
Here
another
skirmish
.
It
will
not
be
!
Retire
into
your
trenches
.
You
all
consented
unto
Salisbury’s
death
,
For
none
would
strike
a
stroke
in
his
revenge
.
Pucelle
is
entered
into
Orleance
In
spite
of
us
or
aught
that
we
could
do
.
Soldiers
exit
.
O
,
would
I
were
to
die
with
Salisbury
!
The
shame
hereof
will
make
me
hide
my
head
.
Talbot
exits
.
Alarum
.
Retreat
.
Scene
6
Flourish
.
Enter
on
the
walls
Pucelle
,
Charles
the
Dauphin
,
Reignier
,
Alanson
,
and
Soldiers
.
Advance
our
waving
colors
on
the
walls
.
Rescued
is
Orleance
from
the
English
.
Thus
Joan
la
Pucelle
hath
performed
her
word
.
She
exits
.
Divinest
creature
,
Astraea’s
daughter
,
How
shall
I
honor
thee
for
this
success
?
ACT 1. SC. 6
Thy
promises
are
like
Adonis’
garden
That
one
day
bloomed
and
fruitful
were
the
next
.
France
,
triumph
in
thy
glorious
prophetess
.
Recovered
is
the
town
of
Orleance
.
More
blessèd
hap
did
ne’er
befall
our
state
.
Why
ring
not
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
.
All
France
will
be
replete
with
mirth
and
joy
When
they
shall
hear
how
we
have
played
the
men
.
’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
pyramis
to
her
I’ll
rear
Than
Rhodophe’s
of
Memphis
ever
was
.
In
memory
of
her
,
when
she
is
dead
,
Her
ashes
,
in
an
urn
more
precious
Than
the
rich-jeweled
coffer
of
Darius
,
Transported
shall
be
at
high
festivals
Before
the
kings
and
queens
of
France
.
No
longer
on
Saint
Dennis
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
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
on
the
walls
a
French
Sergeant
of
a
Band
,
with
two
Sentinels
.
Sirs
,
take
your
places
and
be
vigilant
.
If
any
noise
or
soldier
you
perceive
Near
to
the
walls
,
by
some
apparent
sign
Let
us
have
knowledge
at
the
court
of
guard
.
Sergeant
,
you
shall
.
Sergeant
exits
.
Thus
are
poor
servitors
,
When
others
sleep
upon
their
quiet
beds
,
Constrained
to
watch
in
darkness
,
rain
,
and
cold
.
Enter
Talbot
,
Bedford
,
and
Burgundy
,
below
,
with
scaling
ladders
.
Lord
Regent
,
and
redoubted
Burgundy
,
By
whose
approach
the
regions
of
Artois
,
Walloon
,
and
Picardy
are
friends
to
us
,
This
happy
night
the
Frenchmen
are
secure
,
Having
all
day
caroused
and
banqueted
.
Embrace
we
then
this
opportunity
,
As
fitting
best
to
quittance
their
deceit
Contrived
by
art
and
baleful
sorcery
.
Coward
of
France
,
how
much
he
wrongs
his
fame
,
Despairing
of
his
own
arm’s
fortitude
,
To
join
with
witches
and
the
help
of
hell
!
ACT 2. SC. 1
Traitors
have
never
other
company
.
But
what’s
that
Pucelle
whom
they
term
so
pure
?
A
maid
,
they
say
.
A
maid
?
And
be
so
martial
?
Pray
God
she
prove
not
masculine
ere
long
,
If
underneath
the
standard
of
the
French
She
carry
armor
as
she
hath
begun
.
Well
,
let
them
practice
and
converse
with
spirits
.
God
is
our
fortress
,
in
whose
conquering
name
Let
us
resolve
to
scale
their
flinty
bulwarks
.
Ascend
,
brave
Talbot
.
We
will
follow
thee
.
Not
all
together
.
Better
far
,
I
guess
,
That
we
do
make
our
entrance
several
ways
,
That
if
it
chance
the
one
of
us
do
fail
,
The
other
yet
may
rise
against
their
force
.
Agreed
.
I’ll
to
yond
corner
.
And
I
to
this
.
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
.
Scaling
the
walls
,
they
cry
Saint
George
!
À
Talbot
!
Arm
,
arm
!
The
enemy
doth
make
assault
.
The
English
,
pursuing
the
Sentinels
,
exit
aloft
.
The
French
leap
o’er
the
walls
in
their
shirts
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Enter
several
ways
,
Bastard
,
Alanson
,
Reignier
,
half
ready
,
and
half
unready
.
How
now
,
my
lords
?
What
,
all
unready
so
?
Unready
?
Ay
,
and
glad
we
scaped
so
well
.
’Twas
time
,
I
trow
,
to
wake
and
leave
our
beds
,
Hearing
alarums
at
our
chamber
doors
.
Of
all
exploits
since
first
I
followed
arms
Ne’er
heard
I
of
a
warlike
enterprise
More
venturous
or
desperate
than
this
.
I
think
this
Talbot
be
a
fiend
of
hell
.
If
not
of
hell
,
the
heavens
sure
favor
him
.
Here
cometh
Charles
.
I
marvel
how
he
sped
.
Enter
Charles
and
Joan
la
Pucelle
.
Tut
,
holy
Joan
was
his
defensive
guard
.
Is
this
thy
cunning
,
thou
deceitful
dame
?
Didst
thou
at
first
,
to
flatter
us
withal
,
Make
us
partakers
of
a
little
gain
That
now
our
loss
might
be
ten
times
so
much
?
Wherefore
is
Charles
impatient
with
his
friend
?
At
all
times
will
you
have
my
power
alike
?
Sleeping
or
waking
,
must
I
still
prevail
,
Or
will
you
blame
and
lay
the
fault
on
me
?
—
Improvident
soldiers
,
had
your
watch
been
good
,
This
sudden
mischief
never
could
have
fall’n
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Duke
of
Alanson
,
this
was
your
default
,
That
,
being
captain
of
the
watch
tonight
,
Did
look
no
better
to
that
weighty
charge
.
Had
all
your
quarters
been
as
safely
kept
As
that
whereof
I
had
the
government
,
We
had
not
been
thus
shamefully
surprised
.
Mine
was
secure
.
And
so
was
mine
,
my
lord
.
And
for
myself
,
most
part
of
all
this
night
Within
her
quarter
and
mine
own
precinct
I
was
employed
in
passing
to
and
fro
About
relieving
of
the
sentinels
.
Then
how
or
which
way
should
they
first
break
in
?
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
,
scattered
and
dispersed
,
And
lay
new
platforms
to
endamage
them
.
Alarum
.
Enter
an
English
Soldier
,
crying
,
À
Talbot
,
À
Talbot
!
The
French
fly
,
leaving
their
clothes
behind
.
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
.
He
exits
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Talbot
,
Bedford
,
Burgundy
,
a
Captain
and
Others
.
The
day
begins
to
break
and
night
is
fled
,
Whose
pitchy
mantle
over-veiled
the
Earth
earth
.
Here
sound
retreat
and
cease
our
hot
pursuit
.
Retreat
sounded
.
Bring
forth
the
body
of
old
Salisbury
,
And
here
advance
it
in
the
marketplace
,
The
middle
center
of
this
cursèd
town
.
Soldiers
enter
bearing
the
body
of
Salisbury
,
Drums
beating
a
dead
march
.
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
tonight
.
And
,
that
hereafter
ages
may
behold
What
ruin
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
Orleance
,
The
treacherous
manner
of
his
mournful
death
,
And
what
a
terror
he
had
been
to
France
.
Funeral
exits
.
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
.
’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
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Myself
,
as
far
as
I
could
well
discern
For
smoke
and
dusky
vapors
of
the
night
,
Am
sure
I
scared
the
Dauphin
and
his
trull
,
When
arm-in-arm
they
both
came
swiftly
running
,
Like
to
a
pair
of
loving
turtledoves
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
.
All
hail
,
my
lords
.
Which
of
this
princely
train
Call
you
the
warlike
Talbot
,
for
his
acts
So
much
applauded
through
the
realm
of
France
?
Here
is
the
Talbot
.
Who
would
speak
with
him
?
The
virtuous
lady
,
Countess
of
Auvergne
,
With
modesty
admiring
thy
renown
,
By
me
entreats
,
great
lord
,
thou
wouldst
vouchsafe
To
visit
her
poor
castle
where
she
lies
,
That
she
may
boast
she
hath
beheld
the
man
Whose
glory
fills
the
world
with
loud
report
.
Is
it
even
so
?
Nay
,
then
,
I
see
our
wars
Will
turn
unto
a
peaceful
comic
sport
,
When
ladies
crave
to
be
encountered
with
.
You
may
not
,
my
lord
,
despise
her
gentle
suit
.
Ne’er
trust
me
,
then
;
for
when
a
world
of
men
Could
not
prevail
with
all
their
oratory
,
Yet
hath
a
woman’s
kindness
overruled
.
—
And
therefore
tell
her
I
return
great
thanks
,
And
in
submission
will
attend
on
her
.
—
Will
not
your
Honors
bear
me
company
?
ACT 2. SC. 3
No
,
truly
,
’tis
more
than
manners
will
;
And
I
have
heard
it
said
unbidden
guests
Are
often
welcomest
when
they
are
gone
.
Well
then
,
alone
,
since
there’s
no
remedy
,
I
mean
to
prove
this
lady’s
courtesy
.
—
Come
hither
,
captain
.
Whispers
.
You
perceive
my
mind
?
I
do
,
my
lord
,
and
mean
accordingly
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Countess
of
Auvergne
,
with
Porter
.
Porter
,
remember
what
I
gave
in
charge
,
And
when
you
have
done
so
,
bring
the
keys
to
me
.
Madam
,
I
will
.
He
exits
.
The
plot
is
laid
.
If
all
things
fall
out
right
,
I
shall
as
famous
be
by
this
exploit
As
Scythian
Tamyris
by
Cyrus’
death
.
Great
is
the
rumor
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
.
Madam
,
according
as
your
Ladyship
desired
,
By
message
craved
,
so
is
Lord
Talbot
come
.
And
he
is
welcome
.
What
,
is
this
the
man
?
ACT 2. SC. 3
Madam
,
it
is
.
Is
this
the
scourge
of
France
?
Is
this
the
Talbot
,
so
much
feared
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
aspect
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
.
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
.
He
begins
to
exit
.
,
to
Messenger
What
means
he
now
?
Go
ask
him
whither
he
goes
.
Stay
,
my
Lord
Talbot
,
for
my
lady
craves
To
know
the
cause
of
your
abrupt
departure
.
Marry
,
for
that
she’s
in
a
wrong
belief
,
I
go
to
certify
her
Talbot’s
here
.
Enter
Porter
with
keys
.
,
to
Talbot
If
thou
be
he
,
then
art
thou
prisoner
.
Prisoner
?
To
whom
?
To
me
,
bloodthirsty
lord
.
And
for
that
cause
I
trained
thee
to
my
house
.
Long
time
thy
shadow
hath
been
thrall
to
me
,
For
in
my
gallery
thy
picture
hangs
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
But
now
the
substance
shall
endure
the
like
,
And
I
will
chain
these
legs
and
arms
of
thine
,
That
hast
by
tyranny
these
many
years
Wasted
our
country
,
slain
our
citizens
,
And
sent
our
sons
and
husbands
captivate
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
!
Laughest
thou
,
wretch
?
Thy
mirth
shall
turn
to
moan
.
I
laugh
to
see
your
Ladyship
so
fond
To
think
that
you
have
aught
but
Talbot’s
shadow
Whereon
to
practice
your
severity
.
Why
,
art
not
thou
the
man
?
I
am
,
indeed
.
Then
have
I
substance
too
.
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
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
’t
.
This
is
a
riddling
merchant
for
the
nonce
:
He
will
be
here
and
yet
he
is
not
here
.
How
can
these
contrarieties
agree
?
That
will
I
show
you
presently
.
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
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
Victorious
Talbot
,
pardon
my
abuse
.
I
find
thou
art
no
less
than
fame
hath
bruited
,
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
entertain
thee
as
thou
art
.
Be
not
dismayed
,
fair
lady
,
nor
misconster
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
patience
,
that
we
may
Taste
of
your
wine
and
see
what
cates
you
have
,
For
soldiers’
stomachs
always
serve
them
well
.
With
all
my
heart
,
and
think
me
honorèd
To
feast
so
great
a
warrior
in
my
house
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Enter
Richard
Plantagenet
,
Warwick
,
Somerset
,
William
de
la
Pole
the
Earl
of
Suffolk
,
Vernon
,
a
Lawyer
,
and
Others
.
Great
lords
and
gentlemen
,
what
means
this
silence
?
Dare
no
man
answer
in
a
case
of
truth
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
Within
the
Temple
Hall
we
were
too
loud
;
The
garden
here
is
more
convenient
.
Then
say
at
once
if
I
maintained
the
truth
,
Or
else
was
wrangling
Somerset
in
th’
error
?
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
.
Judge
you
,
my
Lord
of
Warwick
,
then
,
between
us
.
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
.
Tut
,
tut
,
here
is
a
mannerly
forbearance
!
The
truth
appears
so
naked
on
my
side
That
any
purblind
eye
may
find
it
out
.
And
on
my
side
it
is
so
well
appareled
,
So
clear
,
so
shining
,
and
so
evident
,
That
it
will
glimmer
through
a
blind
man’s
eye
.
Since
you
are
tongue-tied
and
so
loath
to
speak
,
In
dumb
significants
proclaim
your
thoughts
:
Let
him
that
is
a
trueborn
gentleman
And
stands
upon
the
honor
of
his
birth
,
If
he
suppose
that
I
have
pleaded
truth
,
From
off
this
brier
pluck
a
white
rose
with
me
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
I
love
no
colors
;
and
,
without
all
color
Of
base
insinuating
flattery
,
I
pluck
this
white
rose
with
Plantagenet
.
I
pluck
this
red
rose
with
young
Somerset
,
And
say
withal
I
think
he
held
the
right
.
Stay
,
lords
and
gentlemen
,
and
pluck
no
more
Till
you
conclude
that
he
upon
whose
side
The
fewest
roses
are
croppèd
from
the
tree
Shall
yield
the
other
in
the
right
opinion
.
Good
Master
Vernon
,
it
is
well
objected
:
If
I
have
fewest
,
I
subscribe
in
silence
.
And
I
.
Then
for
the
truth
and
plainness
of
the
case
,
I
pluck
this
pale
and
maiden
blossom
here
,
Giving
my
verdict
on
the
white
rose
side
.
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
.
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
.
Well
,
well
,
come
on
,
who
else
?
Unless
my
study
and
my
books
be
false
,
ACT 2. SC. 4
The
argument
you
held
was
wrong
in
law
,
In
sign
whereof
I
pluck
a
white
rose
too
.
Now
,
Somerset
,
where
is
your
argument
?
Here
in
my
scabbard
,
meditating
that
Shall
dye
your
white
rose
in
a
bloody
red
.
Meantime
your
cheeks
do
counterfeit
our
roses
,
For
pale
they
look
with
fear
,
as
witnessing
The
truth
on
our
side
.
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
.
Hath
not
thy
rose
a
canker
,
Somerset
?
Hath
not
thy
rose
a
thorn
,
Plantagenet
?
Ay
,
sharp
and
piercing
,
to
maintain
his
truth
,
Whiles
thy
consuming
canker
eats
his
falsehood
.
Well
,
I’ll
find
friends
to
wear
my
bleeding
roses
That
shall
maintain
what
I
have
said
is
true
,
Where
false
Plantagenet
dare
not
be
seen
.
Now
,
by
this
maiden
blossom
in
my
hand
,
I
scorn
thee
and
thy
fashion
,
peevish
boy
.
Turn
not
thy
scorns
this
way
,
Plantagenet
.
Proud
Pole
,
I
will
,
and
scorn
both
him
and
thee
.
I’ll
turn
my
part
thereof
into
thy
throat
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Away
,
away
,
good
William
de
la
Pole
!
We
grace
the
yeoman
by
conversing
with
him
.
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
?
He
bears
him
on
the
place’s
privilege
,
Or
durst
not
for
his
craven
heart
say
thus
.
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
restored
,
thou
art
a
yeoman
.
My
father
was
attachèd
,
not
attainted
,
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
will
.
For
your
partaker
Pole
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
warned
.
Ah
,
thou
shalt
find
us
ready
for
thee
still
,
And
know
us
by
these
colors
for
thy
foes
,
For
these
my
friends
in
spite
of
thee
shall
wear
.
And
,
by
my
soul
,
this
pale
and
angry
rose
,
As
cognizance
of
my
blood-drinking
hate
,
ACT 2. SC. 4
Will
I
forever
,
and
my
faction
,
wear
Until
it
wither
with
me
to
my
grave
Or
flourish
to
the
height
of
my
degree
.
Go
forward
,
and
be
choked
with
thy
ambition
!
And
so
farewell
,
until
I
meet
thee
next
.
He
exits
.
Have
with
thee
,
Pole
.
—
Farewell
,
ambitious
Richard
.
He
exits
.
How
I
am
braved
,
and
must
perforce
endure
it
!
This
blot
that
they
object
against
your
house
Shall
be
whipped
out
in
the
next
parliament
,
Called
for
the
truce
of
Winchester
and
Gloucester
;
And
if
thou
be
not
then
created
York
,
I
will
not
live
to
be
accounted
Warwick
.
Meantime
,
in
signal
of
my
love
to
thee
,
Against
proud
Somerset
and
William
Pole
Will
I
upon
thy
party
wear
this
rose
.
And
here
I
prophesy
:
this
brawl
today
,
Grown
to
this
faction
in
the
Temple
garden
,
Shall
send
,
between
the
red
rose
and
the
white
,
A
thousand
souls
to
death
and
deadly
night
.
Good
Master
Vernon
,
I
am
bound
to
you
,
That
you
on
my
behalf
would
pluck
a
flower
.
In
your
behalf
still
will
I
wear
the
same
.
And
so
will
I
.
Thanks
,
gentle
sir
.
Come
,
let
us
four
to
dinner
.
I
dare
say
This
quarrel
will
drink
blood
another
day
.
They
exit
.
ACT 2. SC. 5
Scene
5
Enter
Edmund
Mortimer
,
brought
in
a
chair
,
and
Jailers
.
Kind
keepers
of
my
weak
decaying
age
,
Let
dying
Mortimer
here
rest
himself
.
Even
like
a
man
new-halèd
from
the
rack
,
So
fare
my
limbs
with
long
imprisonment
;
And
these
gray
locks
,
the
pursuivants
of
death
,
Nestor-like
agèd
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
burdening
grief
,
And
pithless
arms
,
like
to
a
withered
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-wingèd
with
desire
to
get
a
grave
,
As
witting
I
no
other
comfort
have
.
But
tell
me
,
keeper
,
will
my
nephew
come
?
Richard
Plantagenet
,
my
lord
,
will
come
.
We
sent
unto
the
Temple
,
unto
his
chamber
,
And
answer
was
returned
that
he
will
come
.
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
obscured
,
Deprived
of
honor
and
inheritance
.
But
now
the
arbitrator
of
despairs
,
ACT 2. SC. 5
Just
Death
,
kind
umpire
of
men’s
miseries
,
With
sweet
enlargement
doth
dismiss
me
hence
.
I
would
his
troubles
likewise
were
expired
,
That
so
he
might
recover
what
was
lost
.
Enter
Richard
Plantagenet
.
My
lord
,
your
loving
nephew
now
is
come
.
Richard
Plantagenet
,
my
friend
,
is
he
come
?
Ay
,
noble
uncle
,
thus
ignobly
used
,
Your
nephew
,
late
despisèd
Richard
,
comes
.
,
to
Jailer
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
.
He
embraces
Richard
.
And
now
declare
,
sweet
stem
from
York’s
great
stock
,
Why
didst
thou
say
of
late
thou
wert
despised
?
First
,
lean
thine
agèd
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
honor
of
a
true
Plantagenet
,
And
for
alliance’
sake
,
declare
the
cause
My
father
,
Earl
of
Cambridge
,
lost
his
head
.
ACT 2. SC. 5
That
cause
,
fair
nephew
,
that
imprisoned
me
And
hath
detained
me
all
my
flow’ring
youth
Within
a
loathsome
dungeon
,
there
to
pine
,
Was
cursèd
instrument
of
his
decease
.
Discover
more
at
large
what
cause
that
was
,
For
I
am
ignorant
and
cannot
guess
.
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
son
,
The
first
begotten
and
the
lawful
heir
Of
Edward
king
,
the
third
of
that
descent
;
During
whose
reign
the
Percies
of
the
north
,
Finding
his
usurpation
most
unjust
,
Endeavored
my
advancement
to
the
throne
.
The
reason
moved
these
warlike
lords
to
this
Was
,
for
that
—
young
Richard
thus
removed
,
Leaving
no
heir
begotten
of
his
body
—
I
was
the
next
by
birth
and
parentage
;
For
by
my
mother
I
derivèd
am
From
Lionel
,
Duke
of
Clarence
,
third
son
To
King
Edward
the
Third
;
whereas
he
From
John
of
Gaunt
doth
bring
his
pedigree
,
Being
but
fourth
of
that
heroic
line
.
But
mark
:
as
in
this
haughty
great
attempt
They
laborèd
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
,
derived
From
famous
Edmund
Langley
,
Duke
of
York
,
Marrying
my
sister
that
thy
mother
was
,
ACT 2. SC. 5
Again
,
in
pity
of
my
hard
distress
,
Levied
an
army
,
weening
to
redeem
And
have
installed
me
in
the
diadem
.
But
,
as
the
rest
,
so
fell
that
noble
earl
And
was
beheaded
.
Thus
the
Mortimers
,
In
whom
the
title
rested
,
were
suppressed
.
Of
which
,
my
lord
,
your
Honor
is
the
last
.
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
.
But
yet
be
wary
in
thy
studious
care
.
Thy
grave
admonishments
prevail
with
me
.
But
yet
methinks
my
father’s
execution
Was
nothing
less
than
bloody
tyranny
.
With
silence
,
nephew
,
be
thou
politic
;
Strong-fixèd
is
the
house
of
Lancaster
,
And
,
like
a
mountain
,
not
to
be
removed
.
But
now
thy
uncle
is
removing
hence
,
As
princes
do
their
courts
when
they
are
cloyed
With
long
continuance
in
a
settled
place
.
O
uncle
,
would
some
part
of
my
young
years
Might
but
redeem
the
passage
of
your
age
.
Thou
dost
then
wrong
me
,
as
that
slaughterer
doth
Which
giveth
many
wounds
when
one
will
kill
.
Mourn
not
,
except
thou
sorrow
for
my
good
;
Only
give
order
for
my
funeral
.
And
so
farewell
,
and
fair
be
all
thy
hopes
,
And
prosperous
be
thy
life
in
peace
and
war
.
Dies
.
ACT 2. SC. 5
And
peace
,
no
war
,
befall
thy
parting
soul
.
In
prison
hast
thou
spent
a
pilgrimage
,
And
like
a
hermit
overpassed
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
.
Jailers
exit
carrying
Mortimer’s
body
.
Here
dies
the
dusky
torch
of
Mortimer
,
Choked
with
ambition
of
the
meaner
sort
.
And
for
those
wrongs
,
those
bitter
injuries
,
Which
Somerset
hath
offered
to
my
house
,
I
doubt
not
but
with
honor
to
redress
.
And
therefore
haste
I
to
the
Parliament
,
Either
to
be
restorèd
to
my
blood
,
Or
make
mine
ill
th’
advantage
of
my
good
.
He
exits
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Flourish
.
Enter
King
Henry
,
Exeter
,
Gloucester
,
and
Winchester
;
Richard
Plantagenet
and
Warwick
,
with
white
roses
;
Somerset
and
Suffolk
,
with
red
roses
;
and
Others
.
Gloucester
offers
to
put
up
a
bill
.
Winchester
snatches
it
,
tears
it
.
Com’st
thou
with
deep
premeditated
lines
,
With
written
pamphlets
studiously
devised
?
Humphrey
of
Gloucester
,
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
.
Presumptuous
priest
,
this
place
commands
my
patience
,
Or
thou
shouldst
find
thou
hast
dishonored
me
.
Think
not
,
although
in
writing
I
preferred
The
manner
of
thy
vile
outrageous
crimes
,
That
therefore
I
have
forged
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
ACT 3. SC. 1
A
man
of
thy
profession
and
degree
.
And
for
thy
treachery
,
what’s
more
manifest
,
In
that
thou
laid’st
a
trap
to
take
my
life
As
well
at
London
Bridge
as
at
the
Tower
?
Besides
,
I
fear
me
,
if
thy
thoughts
were
sifted
,
The
King
,
thy
sovereign
,
is
not
quite
exempt
From
envious
malice
of
thy
swelling
heart
.
Gloucester
,
I
do
defy
thee
.
—
Lords
,
vouchsafe
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
dissension
,
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
incensed
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
—
As
good
!
Thou
bastard
of
my
grandfather
!
Ay
,
lordly
sir
;
for
what
are
you
,
I
pray
,
But
one
imperious
in
another’s
throne
?
Am
I
not
Protector
,
saucy
priest
?
And
am
not
I
a
prelate
of
the
Church
?
Yes
,
as
an
outlaw
in
a
castle
keeps
,
And
useth
it
to
patronage
his
theft
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Unreverent
Gloucester
!
Thou
art
reverend
Touching
thy
spiritual
function
,
not
thy
life
.
Rome
shall
remedy
this
.
Roam
thither
then
.
,
to
Winchester
My
lord
,
it
were
your
duty
to
forbear
.
Ay
,
so
the
Bishop
be
not
overborne
.
Methinks
my
lord
should
be
religious
,
And
know
the
office
that
belongs
to
such
.
Methinks
his
Lordship
should
be
humbler
.
It
fitteth
not
a
prelate
so
to
plead
.
Yes
,
when
his
holy
state
is
touched
so
near
.
State
holy
,
or
unhallowed
,
what
of
that
?
Is
not
his
Grace
Protector
to
the
King
?
,
aside
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
.
Uncles
of
Gloucester
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
.
O
,
what
a
scandal
is
it
to
our
crown
That
two
such
noble
peers
as
you
should
jar
!
Believe
me
,
lords
,
my
tender
years
can
tell
Civil
dissension
is
a
viperous
worm
That
gnaws
the
bowels
of
the
commonwealth
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
A
noise
within
:
Down
with
the
tawny
coats
!
What
tumult
’s
this
?
An
uproar
,
I
dare
warrant
,
Begun
through
malice
of
the
Bishop’s
men
.
A
noise
again
:
Stones
!
Stones
!
Enter
Mayor
.
O
,
my
good
lords
,
and
virtuous
Henry
,
Pity
the
city
of
London
,
pity
us
!
The
Bishop
and
the
Duke
of
Gloucester’s
men
,
Forbidden
late
to
carry
any
weapon
,
Have
filled
their
pockets
full
of
pebble
stones
And
,
banding
themselves
in
contrary
parts
,
Do
pelt
so
fast
at
one
another’s
pate
That
many
have
their
giddy
brains
knocked
out
;
Our
windows
are
broke
down
in
every
street
,
And
we
,
for
fear
,
compelled
to
shut
our
shops
.
Enter
Servingmen
in
skirmish
with
bloody
pates
.
We
charge
you
,
on
allegiance
to
ourself
,
To
hold
your
slaught’ring
hands
and
keep
the
peace
.
—
Pray
,
Uncle
Gloucester
,
mitigate
this
strife
.
Nay
,
if
we
be
forbidden
stones
,
we’ll
fall
to
it
with
our
teeth
.
Do
what
you
dare
,
we
are
as
resolute
.
Skirmish
again
.
You
of
my
household
,
leave
this
peevish
broil
,
And
set
this
unaccustomed
fight
aside
.
My
lord
,
we
know
your
Grace
to
be
a
man
Just
and
upright
,
and
,
for
your
royal
birth
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
Inferior
to
none
but
to
his
Majesty
;
And
ere
that
we
will
suffer
such
a
prince
,
So
kind
a
father
of
the
commonweal
,
To
be
disgracèd
by
an
inkhorn
mate
,
We
and
our
wives
and
children
all
will
fight
And
have
our
bodies
slaughtered
by
thy
foes
.
Ay
,
and
the
very
parings
of
our
nails
Shall
pitch
a
field
when
we
are
dead
.
Begin
again
.
Stay
,
stay
,
I
say
!
And
if
you
love
me
,
as
you
say
you
do
,
Let
me
persuade
you
to
forbear
awhile
.
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
?
Yield
,
my
Lord
Protector
—
yield
,
Winchester
—
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
you
thirst
for
blood
.
He
shall
submit
,
or
I
will
never
yield
.
Compassion
on
the
King
commands
me
stoop
,
Or
I
would
see
his
heart
out
ere
the
priest
Should
ever
get
that
privilege
of
me
.
Behold
,
my
Lord
of
Winchester
,
the
Duke
Hath
banished
moody
discontented
fury
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
As
by
his
smoothèd
brows
it
doth
appear
.
Why
look
you
still
so
stern
and
tragical
?
Here
,
Winchester
,
I
offer
thee
my
hand
.
Winchester
refuses
Gloucester’s
hand
.
Fie
,
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
?
Sweet
king
!
The
Bishop
hath
a
kindly
gird
.
—
For
shame
,
my
Lord
of
Winchester
,
relent
;
What
,
shall
a
child
instruct
you
what
to
do
?
Well
,
Duke
of
Gloucester
,
I
will
yield
to
thee
;
Love
for
thy
love
and
hand
for
hand
I
give
.
They
take
each
other’s
hand
.
,
aside
Ay
,
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
.
,
aside
So
help
me
God
,
as
I
intend
it
not
.
O
,
loving
uncle
—
kind
Duke
of
Gloucester
—
How
joyful
am
I
made
by
this
contract
.
To
the
Servingmen
.
Away
,
my
masters
,
trouble
us
no
more
,
But
join
in
friendship
as
your
lords
have
done
.
Content
.
I’ll
to
the
surgeon’s
.
And
so
will
I
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
And
I
will
see
what
physic
the
tavern
affords
.
They
exit
with
Mayor
and
Others
.
,
presenting
a
scroll
Accept
this
scroll
,
most
gracious
sovereign
,
Which
in
the
right
of
Richard
Plantagenet
We
do
exhibit
to
your
Majesty
.
Well
urged
,
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
.
And
those
occasions
,
uncle
,
were
of
force
.
—
Therefore
,
my
loving
lords
,
our
pleasure
is
That
Richard
be
restorèd
to
his
blood
.
Let
Richard
be
restorèd
to
his
blood
;
So
shall
his
father’s
wrongs
be
recompensed
.
As
will
the
rest
,
so
willeth
Winchester
.
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
.
Thy
humble
servant
vows
obedience
And
humble
service
till
the
point
of
death
.
Stoop
then
,
and
set
your
knee
against
my
foot
;
Plantagenet
kneels
.
And
in
reguerdon
of
that
duty
done
I
girt
thee
with
the
valiant
sword
of
York
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Rise
,
Richard
,
like
a
true
Plantagenet
,
And
rise
created
princely
Duke
of
York
.
,
formerly
PLANTAGENET
,
standing
And
so
thrive
Richard
as
thy
foes
may
fall
!
And
as
my
duty
springs
,
so
perish
they
That
grudge
one
thought
against
your
Majesty
.
Welcome
,
high
prince
,
the
mighty
Duke
of
York
.
,
aside
Perish
,
base
prince
,
ignoble
Duke
of
York
.
Now
will
it
best
avail
your
Majesty
To
cross
the
seas
and
to
be
crowned
in
France
.
The
presence
of
a
king
engenders
love
Amongst
his
subjects
and
his
loyal
friends
,
As
it
disanimates
his
enemies
.
When
Gloucester
says
the
word
,
King
Henry
goes
,
For
friendly
counsel
cuts
off
many
foes
.
Your
ships
already
are
in
readiness
.
Sennet
.
Flourish
.
All
but
Exeter
exit
.
Ay
,
we
may
march
in
England
or
in
France
,
Not
seeing
what
is
likely
to
ensue
.
This
late
dissension
grown
betwixt
the
peers
Burns
under
feignèd
ashes
of
forged
love
And
will
at
last
break
out
into
a
flame
.
As
festered
members
rot
but
by
degree
Till
bones
and
flesh
and
sinews
fall
away
,
So
will
this
base
and
envious
discord
breed
.
And
now
I
fear
that
fatal
prophecy
Which
in
the
time
of
Henry
named
the
Fifth
Was
in
the
mouth
of
every
sucking
babe
:
That
Henry
born
at
Monmouth
should
win
all
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
And
Henry
born
at
Windsor
should
lose
all
,
Which
is
so
plain
that
Exeter
doth
wish
His
days
may
finish
ere
that
hapless
time
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Pucelle
disguised
,
with
four
Soldiers
with
sacks
upon
their
backs
.
These
are
the
city
gates
,
the
gates
of
Roan
,
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
.
Our
sacks
shall
be
a
mean
to
sack
the
city
,
And
we
be
lords
and
rulers
over
Roan
;
Therefore
we’ll
knock
.
Knock
.
,
within
Qui
là
?
Paysans
la
pauvre
gens
de
France
:
Poor
market
folks
that
come
to
sell
their
corn
.
Enter
,
go
in
.
The
market
bell
is
rung
.
,
aside
Now
,
Roan
,
I’ll
shake
thy
bulwarks
to
the
ground
.
They
exit
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Enter
Charles
,
Bastard
,
Alanson
,
Reignier
,
and
Soldiers
.
Saint
Dennis
bless
this
happy
stratagem
And
once
again
we’ll
sleep
secure
in
Roan
.
Here
entered
Pucelle
and
her
practisants
.
Now
she
is
there
,
how
will
she
specify
Here
is
the
best
and
safest
passage
in
?
By
thrusting
out
a
torch
from
yonder
tower
,
Which
,
once
discerned
,
shows
that
her
meaning
is
:
No
way
to
that
,
for
weakness
,
which
she
entered
.
Enter
Pucelle
on
the
top
,
thrusting
out
a
torch
burning
.
Behold
,
this
is
the
happy
wedding
torch
That
joineth
Roan
unto
her
countrymen
,
But
burning
fatal
to
the
Talbonites
.
See
,
noble
Charles
,
the
beacon
of
our
friend
;
The
burning
torch
,
in
yonder
turret
stands
.
Now
shine
it
like
a
comet
of
revenge
,
A
prophet
to
the
fall
of
all
our
foes
!
Defer
no
time
;
delays
have
dangerous
ends
.
Enter
and
cry
The
Dauphin
!
presently
,
And
then
do
execution
on
the
watch
.
Alarum
.
They
exit
.
An
Alarum
.
Enter
Talbot
in
an
excursion
.
France
,
thou
shalt
rue
this
treason
with
thy
tears
,
If
Talbot
but
survive
thy
treachery
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Pucelle
,
that
witch
,
that
damnèd
sorceress
,
Hath
wrought
this
hellish
mischief
unawares
,
That
hardly
we
escaped
the
pride
of
France
.
He
exits
.
An
alarum
.
Excursions
.
Bedford
brought
in
sick
in
a
chair
,
carried
by
two
Attendants
.
Enter
Talbot
and
Burgundy
without
;
within
,
Pucelle
with
a
sack
of
grain
,
Charles
,
Bastard
,
Alanson
,
and
Reignier
on
the
walls
.
,
to
those
below
Good
morrow
,
gallants
.
Want
you
corn
for
bread
?
She
scatters
grain
on
those
below
.
I
think
the
Duke
of
Burgundy
will
fast
Before
he’ll
buy
again
at
such
a
rate
.
’Twas
full
of
darnel
.
Do
you
like
the
taste
?
Scoff
on
,
vile
fiend
and
shameless
courtesan
!
I
trust
ere
long
to
choke
thee
with
thine
own
,
And
make
thee
curse
the
harvest
of
that
corn
.
Your
Grace
may
starve
,
perhaps
,
before
that
time
.
O
,
let
no
words
,
but
deeds
,
revenge
this
treason
.
What
will
you
do
,
good
graybeard
?
Break
a
lance
And
run
a-tilt
at
Death
within
a
chair
?
Foul
fiend
of
France
and
hag
of
all
despite
,
Encompassed
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
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Are
you
so
hot
,
sir
?
Yet
,
Pucelle
,
hold
thy
peace
,
If
Talbot
do
but
thunder
,
rain
will
follow
.
Those
below
whisper
together
in
council
.
God
speed
the
Parliament
!
Who
shall
be
the
Speaker
?
Dare
you
come
forth
and
meet
us
in
the
field
?
Belike
your
Lordship
takes
us
then
for
fools
,
To
try
if
that
our
own
be
ours
or
no
.
I
speak
not
to
that
railing
Hecate
,
But
unto
thee
,
Alanson
,
and
the
rest
.
Will
you
,
like
soldiers
,
come
and
fight
it
out
?
Seigneur
,
no
.
Seigneur
,
hang
!
Base
muleteers
of
France
,
Like
peasant
footboys
do
they
keep
the
walls
And
dare
not
take
up
arms
like
gentlemen
.
Away
,
captains
.
Let’s
get
us
from
the
walls
,
For
Talbot
means
no
goodness
by
his
looks
.
—
Goodbye
,
my
lord
.
We
came
but
to
tell
you
That
we
are
here
.
They
exit
from
the
walls
.
And
there
will
we
be
too
,
ere
it
be
long
,
Or
else
reproach
be
Talbot’s
greatest
fame
.
—
Vow
,
Burgundy
,
by
honor
of
thy
house
,
Pricked
on
by
public
wrongs
sustained
in
France
,
Either
to
get
the
town
again
or
die
.
And
I
,
as
sure
as
English
Henry
lives
,
And
as
his
father
here
was
conqueror
,
As
sure
as
in
this
late-betrayèd
town
Great
Coeur-de-lion’s
heart
was
burièd
,
So
sure
I
swear
to
get
the
town
or
die
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
My
vows
are
equal
partners
with
thy
vows
.
But
,
ere
we
go
,
regard
this
dying
prince
,
The
valiant
Duke
of
Bedford
.
—
Come
,
my
lord
,
We
will
bestow
you
in
some
better
place
,
Fitter
for
sickness
and
for
crazy
age
.
Lord
Talbot
,
do
not
so
dishonor
me
.
Here
will
I
sit
,
before
the
walls
of
Roan
,
And
will
be
partner
of
your
weal
or
woe
.
Courageous
Bedford
,
let
us
now
persuade
you
—
Not
to
be
gone
from
hence
,
for
once
I
read
That
stout
Pendragon
,
in
his
litter
sick
,
Came
to
the
field
and
vanquishèd
his
foes
.
Methinks
I
should
revive
the
soldiers’
hearts
Because
I
ever
found
them
as
myself
.
Undaunted
spirit
in
a
dying
breast
,
Then
be
it
so
.
Heavens
keep
old
Bedford
safe
!
—
And
now
no
more
ado
,
brave
Burgundy
,
But
gather
we
our
forces
out
of
hand
And
set
upon
our
boasting
enemy
.
He
exits
with
Burgundy
.
Bedford
and
Attendants
remain
.
An
alarum
.
Excursions
.
Enter
Sir
John
Fastolf
and
a
Captain
.
Whither
away
,
Sir
John
Fastolf
,
in
such
haste
?
Whither
away
?
To
save
myself
by
flight
.
We
are
like
to
have
the
overthrow
again
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
What
,
will
you
fly
and
leave
Lord
Talbot
?
Ay
,
All
the
Talbots
in
the
world
,
to
save
my
life
.
He
exits
.
Cowardly
knight
,
ill
fortune
follow
thee
.
He
exits
.
Retreat
.
Excursions
.
Pucelle
,
Alanson
,
and
Charles
enter
,
pursued
by
English
Soldiers
,
and
fly
.
Now
,
quiet
soul
,
depart
when
heaven
please
,
For
I
have
seen
our
enemies’
overthrow
.
What
is
the
trust
or
strength
of
foolish
man
?
They
that
of
late
were
daring
with
their
scoffs
Are
glad
and
fain
by
flight
to
save
themselves
.
Bedford
dies
,
and
is
carried
in
by
two
in
his
chair
.
An
alarum
.
Enter
Talbot
,
Burgundy
,
and
the
rest
.
Lost
and
recovered
in
a
day
again
!
This
is
a
double
honor
,
Burgundy
.
Yet
heavens
have
glory
for
this
victory
.
Warlike
and
martial
Talbot
,
Burgundy
Enshrines
thee
in
his
heart
,
and
there
erects
Thy
noble
deeds
as
valor’s
monuments
.
Thanks
,
gentle
duke
.
But
where
is
Pucelle
now
?
I
think
her
old
familiar
is
asleep
.
Now
where’s
the
Bastard’s
braves
and
Charles
his
gleeks
?
What
,
all
amort
?
Roan
hangs
her
head
for
grief
ACT 3. SC. 3
That
such
a
valiant
company
are
fled
.
Now
will
we
take
some
order
in
the
town
,
Placing
therein
some
expert
officers
,
And
then
depart
to
Paris
to
the
King
,
For
there
young
Henry
with
his
nobles
lie
.
What
wills
Lord
Talbot
pleaseth
Burgundy
.
But
yet
,
before
we
go
,
let’s
not
forget
The
noble
Duke
of
Bedford
late-deceased
,
But
see
his
exequies
fulfilled
in
Roan
.
A
braver
soldier
never
couchèd
lance
,
A
gentler
heart
did
never
sway
in
court
.
But
kings
and
mightiest
potentates
must
die
,
For
that’s
the
end
of
human
misery
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Charles
,
Bastard
,
Alanson
,
Pucelle
,
and
Soldiers
.
Dismay
not
,
princes
,
at
this
accident
,
Nor
grieve
that
Roan
is
so
recoverèd
.
Care
is
no
cure
,
but
rather
corrosive
For
things
that
are
not
to
be
remedied
.
Let
frantic
Talbot
triumph
for
a
while
,
And
like
a
peacock
sweep
along
his
tail
;
We’ll
pull
his
plumes
and
take
away
his
train
,
If
dauphin
and
the
rest
will
be
but
ruled
.
We
have
been
guided
by
thee
hitherto
,
And
of
thy
cunning
had
no
diffidence
.
One
sudden
foil
shall
never
breed
distrust
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
,
to
Pucelle
Search
out
thy
wit
for
secret
policies
,
And
we
will
make
thee
famous
through
the
world
.
,
to
Pucelle
We’ll
set
thy
statue
in
some
holy
place
And
have
thee
reverenced
like
a
blessèd
saint
.
Employ
thee
then
,
sweet
virgin
,
for
our
good
.
Then
thus
it
must
be
;
this
doth
Joan
devise
:
By
fair
persuasions
mixed
with
sugared
words
We
will
entice
the
Duke
of
Burgundy
To
leave
the
Talbot
and
to
follow
us
.
Ay
,
marry
,
sweeting
,
if
we
could
do
that
,
France
were
no
place
for
Henry’s
warriors
,
Nor
should
that
nation
boast
it
so
with
us
,
But
be
extirpèd
from
our
provinces
.
Forever
should
they
be
expulsed
from
France
,
And
not
have
title
of
an
earldom
here
.
Your
honors
shall
perceive
how
I
will
work
To
bring
this
matter
to
the
wishèd
end
.
Drum
sounds
afar
off
.
Hark
!
By
the
sound
of
drum
you
may
perceive
Their
powers
are
marching
unto
Paris-ward
.
Here
sound
an
English
march
.
There
goes
the
Talbot
with
his
colors
spread
,
And
all
the
troops
of
English
after
him
.
French
march
.
Now
in
the
rearward
comes
the
Duke
and
his
.
Fortune
in
favor
makes
him
lag
behind
.
Summon
a
parley
;
we
will
talk
with
him
.
Trumpets
sound
a
parley
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
A
parley
with
the
Duke
of
Burgundy
!
Enter
Burgundy
.
Who
craves
a
parley
with
the
Burgundy
?
The
princely
Charles
of
France
,
thy
countryman
.
What
say’st
thou
,
Charles
?
—
for
I
am
marching
hence
.
,
aside
to
Pucelle
Speak
,
Pucelle
,
and
enchant
him
with
thy
words
.
Brave
Burgundy
,
undoubted
hope
of
France
,
Stay
;
let
thy
humble
handmaid
speak
to
thee
.
Speak
on
,
but
be
not
over-tedious
.
Look
on
thy
country
,
look
on
fertile
France
,
And
see
the
cities
and
the
towns
defaced
By
wasting
ruin
of
the
cruel
foe
.
As
looks
the
mother
on
her
lowly
babe
When
death
doth
close
his
tender-dying
eyes
,
See
,
see
the
pining
malady
of
France
:
Behold
the
wounds
,
the
most
unnatural
wounds
,
Which
thou
thyself
hast
given
her
woeful
breast
.
O
,
turn
thy
edgèd
sword
another
way
;
Strike
those
that
hurt
,
and
hurt
not
those
that
help
.
One
drop
of
blood
drawn
from
thy
country’s
bosom
Should
grieve
thee
more
than
streams
of
foreign
gore
.
Return
thee
therefore
with
a
flood
of
tears
,
And
wash
away
thy
country’s
stainèd
spots
.
,
aside
Either
she
hath
bewitched
me
with
her
words
,
Or
nature
makes
me
suddenly
relent
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
Besides
,
all
French
and
France
exclaims
on
thee
,
Doubting
thy
birth
and
lawful
progeny
.
Who
join’st
thou
with
but
with
a
lordly
nation
That
will
not
trust
thee
but
for
profit’s
sake
?
When
Talbot
hath
set
footing
once
in
France
And
fashioned
thee
that
instrument
of
ill
,
Who
then
but
English
Henry
will
be
lord
,
And
thou
be
thrust
out
like
a
fugitive
?
Call
we
to
mind
,
and
mark
but
this
for
proof
:
Was
not
the
Duke
of
Orleance
thy
foe
?
And
was
he
not
in
England
prisoner
?
But
when
they
heard
he
was
thine
enemy
,
They
set
him
free
,
without
his
ransom
paid
,
In
spite
of
Burgundy
and
all
his
friends
.
See
then
,
thou
fight’st
against
thy
countrymen
,
And
join’st
with
them
will
be
thy
slaughtermen
.
Come
,
come
,
return
;
return
,
thou
wandering
lord
.
Charles
and
the
rest
will
take
thee
in
their
arms
.
,
aside
I
am
vanquishèd
.
These
haughty
words
of
hers
Have
battered
me
like
roaring
cannon-shot
,
And
made
me
almost
yield
upon
my
knees
.
—
Forgive
me
,
country
,
and
sweet
countrymen
;
And
,
lords
,
accept
this
hearty
kind
embrace
.
He
embraces
Charles
,
Bastard
,
and
Alanson
.
My
forces
and
my
power
of
men
are
yours
.
So
,
farewell
,
Talbot
.
I’ll
no
longer
trust
thee
.
,
aside
Done
like
a
Frenchman
:
turn
and
turn
again
.
Welcome
,
brave
duke
.
Thy
friendship
makes
us
fresh
.
And
doth
beget
new
courage
in
our
breasts
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
Pucelle
hath
bravely
played
her
part
in
this
And
doth
deserve
a
coronet
of
gold
.
Now
let
us
on
,
my
lords
,
and
join
our
powers
,
And
seek
how
we
may
prejudice
the
foe
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Flourish
.
Enter
the
King
,
Gloucester
,
Winchester
,
Exeter
;
York
,
Warwick
,
and
Vernon
,
with
white
roses
;
Somerset
,
Suffolk
,
and
Basset
,
with
red
roses
.
To
them
,
with
his
Soldiers
,
Talbot
.
My
gracious
prince
and
honorable
peers
,
Hearing
of
your
arrival
in
this
realm
,
I
have
awhile
given
truce
unto
my
wars
To
do
my
duty
to
my
sovereign
;
In
sign
whereof
,
this
arm
,
that
hath
reclaimed
To
your
obedience
fifty
fortresses
,
Twelve
cities
,
and
seven
walled
towns
of
strength
,
Besides
five
hundred
prisoners
of
esteem
,
Lets
fall
his
sword
before
your
Highness’
feet
,
And
with
submissive
loyalty
of
heart
Ascribes
the
glory
of
his
conquest
got
First
to
my
God
,
and
next
unto
your
Grace
.
He
kneels
.
Is
this
the
Lord
Talbot
,
Uncle
Gloucester
,
That
hath
so
long
been
resident
in
France
?
Yes
,
if
it
please
your
Majesty
,
my
liege
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
Welcome
,
brave
captain
and
victorious
lord
.
When
I
was
young
—
as
yet
I
am
not
old
—
I
do
remember
how
my
father
said
A
stouter
champion
never
handled
sword
.
Long
since
we
were
resolvèd
of
your
truth
,
Your
faithful
service
,
and
your
toil
in
war
;
Yet
never
have
you
tasted
our
reward
Or
been
reguerdoned
with
so
much
as
thanks
,
Because
till
now
we
never
saw
your
face
.
Therefore
stand
up
;
and
for
these
good
deserts
We
here
create
you
Earl
of
Shrewsbury
;
And
in
our
coronation
take
your
place
.
Talbot
rises
.
Sennet
.
Flourish
.
All
except
Vernon
and
Basset
exit
.
Now
,
sir
,
to
you
that
were
so
hot
at
sea
,
Disgracing
of
these
colors
that
I
wear
In
honor
of
my
noble
Lord
of
York
,
Dar’st
thou
maintain
the
former
words
thou
spak’st
?
Yes
,
sir
,
as
well
as
you
dare
patronage
The
envious
barking
of
your
saucy
tongue
Against
my
lord
the
Duke
of
Somerset
.
Sirrah
,
thy
lord
I
honor
as
he
is
.
Why
,
what
is
he
?
As
good
a
man
as
York
.
Hark
you
,
not
so
;
in
witness
,
take
you
that
.
Strikes
him
.
Villain
,
thou
knowest
the
law
of
arms
is
such
That
whoso
draws
a
sword
’tis
present
death
,
Or
else
this
blow
should
broach
thy
dearest
blood
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
But
I’ll
unto
his
Majesty
,
and
crave
I
may
have
liberty
to
venge
this
wrong
,
When
thou
shalt
see
I’ll
meet
thee
to
thy
cost
.
He
exits
.
Well
,
miscreant
,
I’ll
be
there
as
soon
as
you
,
And
after
meet
you
sooner
than
you
would
.
He
exits
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Flourish
.
Enter
King
,
Gloucester
,
Winchester
,
Talbot
,
Exeter
;
York
and
Warwick
,
with
white
roses
;
Suffolk
and
Somerset
,
with
red
roses
;
Governor
of
Paris
,
and
Others
.
Lord
Bishop
,
set
the
crown
upon
his
head
.
,
crowning
King
Henry
God
save
King
Henry
,
of
that
name
the
Sixth
!
Now
,
Governor
of
Paris
,
take
your
oath
.
Governor
kneels
.
That
you
elect
no
other
king
but
him
;
Esteem
none
friends
but
such
as
are
his
friends
,
And
none
your
foes
but
such
as
shall
pretend
Malicious
practices
against
his
state
:
This
shall
you
do
,
so
help
you
righteous
God
.
Governor
rises
.
Enter
Fastolf
.
My
gracious
sovereign
,
as
I
rode
from
Callice
To
haste
unto
your
coronation
,
A
letter
was
delivered
to
my
hands
,
Writ
to
your
Grace
from
th’
Duke
of
Burgundy
.
He
hands
the
King
a
paper
.
Shame
to
the
Duke
of
Burgundy
and
thee
!
ACT 4. SC. 1
I
vowed
,
base
knight
,
when
I
did
meet
thee
next
,
To
tear
the
Garter
from
thy
craven’s
leg
,
(
tearing
it
off
)
Which
I
have
done
,
because
unworthily
Thou
wast
installèd
in
that
high
degree
.
—
Pardon
me
,
princely
Henry
and
the
rest
.
This
dastard
,
at
the
battle
of
Patay
,
When
but
in
all
I
was
six
thousand
strong
And
that
the
French
were
almost
ten
to
one
,
Before
we
met
or
that
a
stroke
was
given
,
Like
to
a
trusty
squire
did
run
away
;
In
which
assault
we
lost
twelve
hundred
men
.
Myself
and
divers
gentlemen
besides
Were
there
surprised
and
taken
prisoners
.
Then
judge
,
great
lords
,
if
I
have
done
amiss
,
Or
whether
that
such
cowards
ought
to
wear
This
ornament
of
knighthood
—
yea
or
no
?
To
say
the
truth
,
this
fact
was
infamous
And
ill
beseeming
any
common
man
,
Much
more
a
knight
,
a
captain
,
and
a
leader
.
When
first
this
Order
was
ordained
,
my
lords
,
Knights
of
the
Garter
were
of
noble
birth
,
Valiant
and
virtuous
,
full
of
haughty
courage
,
Such
as
were
grown
to
credit
by
the
wars
;
Not
fearing
death
nor
shrinking
for
distress
,
But
always
resolute
in
most
extremes
.
He
then
that
is
not
furnished
in
this
sort
Doth
but
usurp
the
sacred
name
of
knight
,
Profaning
this
most
honorable
Order
,
And
should
,
if
I
were
worthy
to
be
judge
,
Be
quite
degraded
,
like
a
hedge-born
swain
That
doth
presume
to
boast
of
gentle
blood
.
,
to
Fastolf
Stain
to
thy
countrymen
,
thou
hear’st
thy
doom
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
Be
packing
therefore
,
thou
that
wast
a
knight
.
Henceforth
we
banish
thee
on
pain
of
death
.
Fastolf
exits
.
And
now
,
my
lord
protector
,
view
the
letter
Sent
from
our
uncle
,
Duke
of
Burgundy
.
He
hands
the
paper
to
Gloucester
.
What
means
his
Grace
that
he
hath
changed
his
style
?
No
more
but
,
plain
and
bluntly
,
To
the
King
!
Hath
he
forgot
he
is
his
sovereign
?
Or
doth
this
churlish
superscription
Pretend
some
alteration
in
good
will
?
What’s
here
?
(
Reads
.
)
I
have
upon
especial
cause
,
Moved
with
compassion
of
my
country’s
wrack
,
Together
with
the
pitiful
complaints
Of
such
as
your
oppression
feeds
upon
,
Forsaken
your
pernicious
faction
And
joined
with
Charles
,
the
rightful
king
of
France
.
O
monstrous
treachery
!
Can
this
be
so
?
That
in
alliance
,
amity
,
and
oaths
There
should
be
found
such
false
dissembling
guile
?
What
?
Doth
my
Uncle
Burgundy
revolt
?
He
doth
,
my
lord
,
and
is
become
your
foe
.
Is
that
the
worst
this
letter
doth
contain
?
It
is
the
worst
,
and
all
,
my
lord
,
he
writes
.
Why
,
then
,
Lord
Talbot
there
shall
talk
with
him
And
give
him
chastisement
for
this
abuse
.
—
How
say
you
,
my
lord
,
are
you
not
content
?
ACT 4. SC. 1
Content
,
my
liege
?
Yes
.
But
that
I
am
prevented
,
I
should
have
begged
I
might
have
been
employed
.
Then
gather
strength
and
march
unto
him
straight
;
Let
him
perceive
how
ill
we
brook
his
treason
And
what
offense
it
is
to
flout
his
friends
.
I
go
,
my
lord
,
in
heart
desiring
still
You
may
behold
confusion
of
your
foes
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Vernon
,
with
a
white
rose
,
and
Basset
,
with
a
red
rose
.
Grant
me
the
combat
,
gracious
sovereign
.
And
me
,
my
lord
,
grant
me
the
combat
too
.
,
indicating
Vernon
This
is
my
servant
;
hear
him
,
noble
prince
.
,
indicating
Basset
And
this
is
mine
,
sweet
Henry
;
favor
him
.
Be
patient
,
lords
,
and
give
them
leave
to
speak
.
—
Say
,
gentlemen
,
what
makes
you
thus
exclaim
,
And
wherefore
crave
you
combat
,
or
with
whom
?
With
him
,
my
lord
,
for
he
hath
done
me
wrong
.
And
I
with
him
,
for
he
hath
done
me
wrong
.
What
is
that
wrong
whereof
you
both
complain
?
First
let
me
know
,
and
then
I’ll
answer
you
.
Crossing
the
sea
from
England
into
France
,
This
fellow
here
with
envious
carping
tongue
Upbraided
me
about
the
rose
I
wear
,
ACT 4. SC. 1
Saying
the
sanguine
color
of
the
leaves
Did
represent
my
master’s
blushing
cheeks
When
stubbornly
he
did
repugn
the
truth
About
a
certain
question
in
the
law
Argued
betwixt
the
Duke
of
York
and
him
,
With
other
vile
and
ignominious
terms
.
In
confutation
of
which
rude
reproach
,
And
in
defense
of
my
lord’s
worthiness
,
I
crave
the
benefit
of
law
of
arms
.
And
that
is
my
petition
,
noble
lord
;
For
though
he
seem
with
forgèd
quaint
conceit
To
set
a
gloss
upon
his
bold
intent
,
Yet
know
,
my
lord
,
I
was
provoked
by
him
,
And
he
first
took
exceptions
at
this
badge
,
Pronouncing
that
the
paleness
of
this
flower
Bewrayed
the
faintness
of
my
master’s
heart
.
Will
not
this
malice
,
Somerset
,
be
left
?
Your
private
grudge
,
my
Lord
of
York
,
will
out
,
Though
ne’er
so
cunningly
you
smother
it
.
Good
Lord
,
what
madness
rules
in
brainsick
men
When
for
so
slight
and
frivolous
a
cause
Such
factious
emulations
shall
arise
!
Good
cousins
both
,
of
York
and
Somerset
,
Quiet
yourselves
,
I
pray
,
and
be
at
peace
.
Let
this
dissension
first
be
tried
by
fight
,
And
then
your
Highness
shall
command
a
peace
.
The
quarrel
toucheth
none
but
us
alone
;
Betwixt
ourselves
let
us
decide
it
then
.
,
throwing
down
a
gage
There
is
my
pledge
;
accept
it
,
Somerset
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
,
to
Somerset
Nay
,
let
it
rest
where
it
began
at
first
.
,
to
Somerset
Confirm
it
so
,
mine
honorable
lord
.
Confirm
it
so
?
Confounded
be
your
strife
,
And
perish
you
with
your
audacious
prate
!
Presumptuous
vassals
,
are
you
not
ashamed
With
this
immodest
clamorous
outrage
To
trouble
and
disturb
the
King
and
us
?
—
And
you
,
my
lords
,
methinks
you
do
not
well
To
bear
with
their
perverse
objections
,
Much
less
to
take
occasion
from
their
mouths
To
raise
a
mutiny
betwixt
yourselves
.
Let
me
persuade
you
take
a
better
course
.
It
grieves
his
Highness
.
Good
my
lords
,
be
friends
.
Come
hither
,
you
that
would
be
combatants
:
Henceforth
I
charge
you
,
as
you
love
our
favor
,
Quite
to
forget
this
quarrel
and
the
cause
.
—
And
you
,
my
lords
,
remember
where
we
are
:
In
France
,
amongst
a
fickle
wavering
nation
.
If
they
perceive
dissension
in
our
looks
,
And
that
within
ourselves
we
disagree
,
How
will
their
grudging
stomachs
be
provoked
To
willful
disobedience
and
rebel
!
Besides
,
what
infamy
will
there
arise
When
foreign
princes
shall
be
certified
That
for
a
toy
,
a
thing
of
no
regard
,
King
Henry’s
peers
and
chief
nobility
Destroyed
themselves
and
lost
the
realm
of
France
!
O
,
think
upon
the
conquest
of
my
father
,
My
tender
years
,
and
let
us
not
forgo
That
for
a
trifle
that
was
bought
with
blood
.
Let
me
be
umpire
in
this
doubtful
strife
.
ACT 4. SC. 1
I
see
no
reason
if
I
wear
this
rose
That
anyone
should
therefore
be
suspicious
I
more
incline
to
Somerset
than
York
.
He
puts
on
a
red
rose
.
Both
are
my
kinsmen
,
and
I
love
them
both
.
As
well
they
may
upbraid
me
with
my
crown
Because
,
forsooth
,
the
King
of
Scots
is
crowned
.
But
your
discretions
better
can
persuade
Than
I
am
able
to
instruct
or
teach
;
And
therefore
,
as
we
hither
came
in
peace
,
So
let
us
still
continue
peace
and
love
.
Cousin
of
York
,
we
institute
your
Grace
To
be
our
regent
in
these
parts
of
France
;
—
And
good
my
Lord
of
Somerset
,
unite
Your
troops
of
horsemen
with
his
bands
of
foot
;
And
like
true
subjects
,
sons
of
your
progenitors
,
Go
cheerfully
together
and
digest
Your
angry
choler
on
your
enemies
.
Ourself
,
my
lord
protector
,
and
the
rest
,
After
some
respite
,
will
return
to
Callice
;
From
thence
to
England
,
where
I
hope
ere
long
To
be
presented
,
by
your
victories
,
With
Charles
,
Alanson
,
and
that
traitorous
rout
.
Flourish
.
All
but
York
,
Warwick
,
Exeter
,
Vernon
exit
.
My
Lord
of
York
,
I
promise
you
the
King
Prettily
,
methought
,
did
play
the
orator
.
And
so
he
did
,
but
yet
I
like
it
not
In
that
he
wears
the
badge
of
Somerset
.
Tush
,
that
was
but
his
fancy
;
blame
him
not
.
I
dare
presume
,
sweet
prince
,
he
thought
no
harm
.
And
if
iwis
he
did
—
but
let
it
rest
.
Other
affairs
must
now
be
managèd
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
York
,
Warwick
and
Vernon
exit
.
Exeter
remains
.
Well
didst
thou
,
Richard
,
to
suppress
thy
voice
,
For
had
the
passions
of
thy
heart
burst
out
,
I
fear
we
should
have
seen
deciphered
there
More
rancorous
spite
,
more
furious
raging
broils
,
Than
yet
can
be
imagined
or
supposed
.
But
howsoe’er
,
no
simple
man
that
sees
This
jarring
discord
of
nobility
,
This
shouldering
of
each
other
in
the
court
,
This
factious
bandying
of
their
favorites
,
But
sees
it
doth
presage
some
ill
event
.
’Tis
much
when
scepters
are
in
children’s
hands
,
But
more
when
envy
breeds
unkind
division
:
There
comes
the
ruin
;
there
begins
confusion
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Talbot
with
Soldiers
and
Trump
and
Drum
before
Bordeaux
.
Go
to
the
gates
of
Bordeaux
,
trumpeter
.
Summon
their
general
unto
the
wall
.
Trumpet
sounds
.
Enter
General
and
Others
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
humble
to
us
,
call
my
sovereign
yours
,
And
do
him
homage
as
obedient
subjects
,
And
I’ll
withdraw
me
and
my
bloody
power
.
But
if
you
frown
upon
this
proffered
peace
,
You
tempt
the
fury
of
my
three
attendants
,
ACT 4. SC. 2
Lean
Famine
,
quartering
Steel
,
and
climbing
Fire
,
Who
,
in
a
moment
,
even
with
the
earth
Shall
lay
your
stately
and
air-braving
towers
,
If
you
forsake
the
offer
of
their
love
.
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
fortified
And
strong
enough
to
issue
out
and
fight
.
If
thou
retire
,
the
Dauphin
,
well
appointed
,
Stands
with
the
snares
of
war
to
tangle
thee
.
On
either
hand
thee
,
there
are
squadrons
pitched
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
Destruction
meets
thee
in
the
face
.
Ten
thousand
French
have
ta’en
the
Sacrament
To
rive
their
dangerous
artillery
Upon
no
Christian
soul
but
English
Talbot
.
Lo
,
there
thou
stand’st
,
a
breathing
valiant
man
Of
an
invincible
unconquered
spirit
.
This
is
the
latest
glory
of
thy
praise
That
I
,
thy
enemy
,
due
thee
withal
;
For
ere
the
glass
that
now
begins
to
run
Finish
the
process
of
his
sandy
hour
,
These
eyes
,
that
see
thee
now
well-colorèd
,
Shall
see
thee
withered
,
bloody
,
pale
,
and
dead
.
Drum
afar
off
.
Hark
,
hark
,
the
Dauphin’s
drum
,
a
warning
bell
,
Sings
heavy
music
to
thy
timorous
soul
,
And
mine
shall
ring
thy
dire
departure
out
.
He
exits
,
aloft
,
with
Others
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
He
fables
not
;
I
hear
the
enemy
.
Out
,
some
light
horsemen
,
and
peruse
their
wings
.
Some
Soldiers
exit
.
O
,
negligent
and
heedless
discipline
,
How
are
we
parked
and
bounded
in
a
pale
,
A
little
herd
of
England’s
timorous
deer
Mazed
with
a
yelping
kennel
of
French
curs
.
If
we
be
English
deer
,
be
then
in
blood
,
Not
rascal-like
to
fall
down
with
a
pinch
,
But
rather
,
moody-mad
and
desperate
stags
,
Turn
on
the
bloody
hounds
with
heads
of
steel
And
make
the
cowards
stand
aloof
at
bay
.
Sell
every
man
his
life
as
dear
as
mine
And
they
shall
find
dear
deer
of
us
,
my
friends
.
God
and
Saint
George
,
Talbot
and
England’s
right
,
Prosper
our
colors
in
this
dangerous
fight
!
He
exits
with
Soldiers
,
Drum
and
Trumpet
.
Scene
3
Enter
a
Messenger
that
meets
York
.
Enter
York
with
Trumpet
and
many
Soldiers
.
Are
not
the
speedy
scouts
returned
again
That
dogged
the
mighty
army
of
the
Dauphin
?
They
are
returned
,
my
lord
,
and
give
it
out
That
he
is
marched
to
Bordeaux
with
his
power
To
fight
with
Talbot
.
As
he
marched
along
,
By
your
espials
were
discoverèd
Two
mightier
troops
than
that
the
Dauphin
led
,
Which
joined
with
him
and
made
their
march
for
Bordeaux
.
He
exits
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
A
plague
upon
that
villain
Somerset
That
thus
delays
my
promisèd
supply
Of
horsemen
that
were
levied
for
this
siege
!
Renownèd
Talbot
doth
expect
my
aid
,
And
I
am
louted
by
a
traitor
villain
And
cannot
help
the
noble
chevalier
.
God
comfort
him
in
this
necessity
.
If
he
miscarry
,
farewell
wars
in
France
.
Enter
Sir
William
Lucy
.
Thou
princely
leader
of
our
English
strength
,
Never
so
needful
on
the
earth
of
France
,
Spur
to
the
rescue
of
the
noble
Talbot
,
Who
now
is
girdled
with
a
waist
of
iron
And
hemmed
about
with
grim
destruction
.
To
Bordeaux
,
warlike
duke
!
To
Bordeaux
,
York
!
Else
farewell
Talbot
,
France
,
and
England’s
honor
.
O
God
,
that
Somerset
,
who
in
proud
heart
Doth
stop
my
cornets
,
were
in
Talbot’s
place
!
So
should
we
save
a
valiant
gentleman
By
forfeiting
a
traitor
and
a
coward
.
Mad
ire
and
wrathful
fury
makes
me
weep
That
thus
we
die
while
remiss
traitors
sleep
.
O
,
send
some
succor
to
the
distressed
lord
!
He
dies
,
we
lose
;
I
break
my
warlike
word
;
We
mourn
,
France
smiles
;
we
lose
,
they
daily
get
,
All
long
of
this
vile
traitor
Somerset
.
Then
God
take
mercy
on
brave
Talbot’s
soul
,
And
on
his
son
,
young
John
,
who
two
hours
since
I
met
in
travel
toward
his
warlike
father
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
This
seven
years
did
not
Talbot
see
his
son
,
And
now
they
meet
where
both
their
lives
are
done
.
Alas
,
what
joy
shall
noble
Talbot
have
To
bid
his
young
son
welcome
to
his
grave
?
Away
!
Vexation
almost
stops
my
breath
,
That
sundered
friends
greet
in
the
hour
of
death
.
Lucy
,
farewell
.
No
more
my
fortune
can
But
curse
the
cause
I
cannot
aid
the
man
.
Maine
,
Blois
,
Poictiers
,
and
Tours
are
won
away
,
Long
all
of
Somerset
and
his
delay
.
York
and
his
Soldiers
exit
.
Thus
while
the
vulture
of
sedition
Feeds
in
the
bosom
of
such
great
commanders
,
Sleeping
neglection
doth
betray
to
loss
The
conquest
of
our
scarce-cold
conqueror
,
That
ever-living
man
of
memory
,
Henry
the
Fifth
.
Whiles
they
each
other
cross
,
Lives
,
honors
,
lands
,
and
all
hurry
to
loss
.
He
exits
.
Scene
4
Enter
Somerset
with
his
army
and
a
Captain
from
Talbot’s
army
.
It
is
too
late
;
I
cannot
send
them
now
.
This
expedition
was
by
York
and
Talbot
Too
rashly
plotted
.
All
our
general
force
Might
with
a
sally
of
the
very
town
Be
buckled
with
.
The
overdaring
Talbot
Hath
sullied
all
his
gloss
of
former
honor
By
this
unheedful
,
desperate
,
wild
adventure
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
York
set
him
on
to
fight
and
die
in
shame
That
,
Talbot
dead
,
great
York
might
bear
the
name
.
Enter
Sir
William
Lucy
.
Here
is
Sir
William
Lucy
,
who
with
me
Set
from
our
o’er-matched
forces
forth
for
aid
.
How
now
,
Sir
William
,
whither
were
you
sent
?
Whither
,
my
lord
?
From
bought
and
sold
Lord
Talbot
,
Who
,
ringed
about
with
bold
adversity
,
Cries
out
for
noble
York
and
Somerset
To
beat
assailing
Death
from
his
weak
regions
;
And
whiles
the
honorable
captain
there
Drops
bloody
sweat
from
his
war-wearied
limbs
And
,
in
advantage
ling’ring
,
looks
for
rescue
,
You
,
his
false
hopes
,
the
trust
of
England’s
honor
,
Keep
off
aloof
with
worthless
emulation
.
Let
not
your
private
discord
keep
away
The
levied
succors
that
should
lend
him
aid
,
While
he
,
renownèd
noble
gentleman
,
Yield
up
his
life
unto
a
world
of
odds
.
Orleance
the
Bastard
,
Charles
,
Burgundy
,
Alanson
,
Reignier
compass
him
about
,
And
Talbot
perisheth
by
your
default
.
York
set
him
on
;
York
should
have
sent
him
aid
.
And
York
as
fast
upon
your
Grace
exclaims
,
Swearing
that
you
withhold
his
levied
host
Collected
for
this
expedition
.
York
lies
.
He
might
have
sent
and
had
the
horse
.
I
owe
him
little
duty
and
less
love
,
And
take
foul
scorn
to
fawn
on
him
by
sending
.
ACT 4. SC. 5
The
fraud
of
England
,
not
the
force
of
France
,
Hath
now
entrapped
the
noble-minded
Talbot
.
Never
to
England
shall
he
bear
his
life
,
But
dies
betrayed
to
fortune
by
your
strife
.
Come
,
go
.
I
will
dispatch
the
horsemen
straight
.
Within
six
hours
they
will
be
at
his
aid
.
Too
late
comes
rescue
;
he
is
ta’en
or
slain
,
For
fly
he
could
not
if
he
would
have
fled
;
And
fly
would
Talbot
never
,
though
he
might
.
If
he
be
dead
,
brave
Talbot
,
then
adieu
.
His
fame
lives
in
the
world
,
his
shame
in
you
.
They
exit
.
Scene
5
Enter
Talbot
and
John
Talbot
,
his
son
.
O
young
John
Talbot
,
I
did
send
for
thee
To
tutor
thee
in
stratagems
of
war
,
That
Talbot’s
name
might
be
in
thee
revived
When
sapless
age
and
weak
unable
limbs
Should
bring
thy
father
to
his
drooping
chair
.
But
—
O
,
malignant
and
ill-boding
stars
!
—
Now
thou
art
come
unto
a
feast
of
Death
,
A
terrible
and
unavoided
danger
.
Therefore
,
dear
boy
,
mount
on
my
swiftest
horse
,
And
I’ll
direct
thee
how
thou
shalt
escape
By
sudden
flight
.
Come
,
dally
not
,
be
gone
.
ACT 4. SC. 5
Is
my
name
Talbot
?
And
am
I
your
son
?
And
shall
I
fly
?
O
,
if
you
love
my
mother
,
Dishonor
not
her
honorable
name
To
make
a
bastard
and
a
slave
of
me
!
The
world
will
say
He
is
not
Talbot’s
blood
,
That
basely
fled
when
noble
Talbot
stood
.
Fly
,
to
revenge
my
death
if
I
be
slain
.
He
that
flies
so
will
ne’er
return
again
.
If
we
both
stay
,
we
both
are
sure
to
die
.
Then
let
me
stay
and
,
father
,
do
you
fly
.
Your
loss
is
great
;
so
your
regard
should
be
.
My
worth
unknown
,
no
loss
is
known
in
me
.
Upon
my
death
,
the
French
can
little
boast
;
In
yours
they
will
;
in
you
all
hopes
are
lost
.
Flight
cannot
stain
the
honor
you
have
won
,
But
mine
it
will
,
that
no
exploit
have
done
.
You
fled
for
vantage
,
everyone
will
swear
;
But
if
I
bow
,
they’ll
say
it
was
for
fear
.
There
is
no
hope
that
ever
I
will
stay
If
the
first
hour
I
shrink
and
run
away
.
He
kneels
.
Here
on
my
knee
I
beg
mortality
,
Rather
than
life
preserved
with
infamy
.
Shall
all
thy
mother’s
hopes
lie
in
one
tomb
?
Ay
,
rather
than
I’ll
shame
my
mother’s
womb
.
Upon
my
blessing
I
command
thee
go
.
To
fight
I
will
,
but
not
to
fly
the
foe
.
ACT 4. SC. 5
Part
of
thy
father
may
be
saved
in
thee
.
No
part
of
him
but
will
be
shame
in
me
.
Thou
never
hadst
renown
,
nor
canst
not
lose
it
.
Yes
,
your
renownèd
name
;
shall
flight
abuse
it
?
Thy
father’s
charge
shall
clear
thee
from
that
stain
.
You
cannot
witness
for
me
,
being
slain
.
If
death
be
so
apparent
,
then
both
fly
.
And
leave
my
followers
here
to
fight
and
die
?
My
age
was
never
tainted
with
such
shame
.
And
shall
my
youth
be
guilty
of
such
blame
?
He
rises
.
No
more
can
I
be
severed
from
your
side
Than
can
yourself
yourself
in
twain
divide
.
Stay
,
go
,
do
what
you
will
;
the
like
do
I
,
For
live
I
will
not
,
if
my
father
die
.
Then
here
I
take
my
leave
of
thee
,
fair
son
,
Born
to
eclipse
thy
life
this
afternoon
.
Come
,
side
by
side
,
together
live
and
die
,
And
soul
with
soul
from
France
to
heaven
fly
.
They
exit
.
ACT 4. SC. 6
Scene
6
Alarum
.
Excursions
,
wherein
Talbot’s
son
John
is
hemmed
about
,
and
Talbot
rescues
him
.
Saint
George
,
and
victory
!
Fight
,
soldiers
,
fight
!
The
Regent
hath
with
Talbot
broke
his
word
And
left
us
to
the
rage
of
France
his
sword
.
Where
is
John
Talbot
?
—
Pause
,
and
take
thy
breath
;
I
gave
thee
life
and
rescued
thee
from
death
.
O
,
twice
my
father
,
twice
am
I
thy
son
!
The
life
thou
gav’st
me
first
was
lost
and
done
Till
with
thy
warlike
sword
,
despite
of
fate
,
To
my
determined
time
thou
gav’st
new
date
.
When
from
the
Dauphin’s
crest
thy
sword
struck
fire
,
It
warmed
thy
father’s
heart
with
proud
desire
Of
bold-faced
victory
.
Then
leaden
age
,
Quickened
with
youthful
spleen
and
warlike
rage
,
Beat
down
Alanson
,
Orleance
,
Burgundy
,
And
from
the
pride
of
Gallia
rescued
thee
.
The
ireful
Bastard
Orleance
,
that
drew
blood
From
thee
,
my
boy
,
and
had
the
maidenhood
Of
thy
first
fight
,
I
soon
encounterèd
,
And
,
interchanging
blows
,
I
quickly
shed
Some
of
his
bastard
blood
,
and
in
disgrace
Bespoke
him
thus
:
Contaminated
,
base
,
And
misbegotten
blood
I
spill
of
thine
,
Mean
and
right
poor
,
for
that
pure
blood
of
mine
Which
thou
didst
force
from
Talbot
,
my
brave
boy
.
Here
,
purposing
the
Bastard
to
destroy
,
Came
in
strong
rescue
.
Speak
,
thy
father’s
care
:
Art
thou
not
weary
,
John
?
How
dost
thou
fare
?
ACT 4. SC. 6
Wilt
thou
yet
leave
the
battle
,
boy
,
and
fly
,
Now
thou
art
sealed
the
son
of
chivalry
?
Fly
,
to
revenge
my
death
when
I
am
dead
;
The
help
of
one
stands
me
in
little
stead
.
O
,
too
much
folly
is
it
,
well
I
wot
,
To
hazard
all
our
lives
in
one
small
boat
.
If
I
today
die
not
with
Frenchmen’s
rage
,
Tomorrow
I
shall
die
with
mickle
age
.
By
me
they
nothing
gain
,
and
,
if
I
stay
,
’Tis
but
the
short’ning
of
my
life
one
day
.
In
thee
thy
mother
dies
,
our
household’s
name
,
My
death’s
revenge
,
thy
youth
,
and
England’s
fame
.
All
these
and
more
we
hazard
by
thy
stay
;
All
these
are
saved
if
thou
wilt
fly
away
.
The
sword
of
Orleance
hath
not
made
me
smart
;
These
words
of
yours
draw
lifeblood
from
my
heart
.
On
that
advantage
,
bought
with
such
a
shame
,
To
save
a
paltry
life
and
slay
bright
fame
,
Before
young
Talbot
from
old
Talbot
fly
,
The
coward
horse
that
bears
me
fall
and
die
!
And
like
me
to
the
peasant
boys
of
France
,
To
be
shame’s
scorn
and
subject
of
mischance
!
Surely
,
by
all
the
glory
you
have
won
,
An
if
I
fly
,
I
am
not
Talbot’s
son
.
Then
talk
no
more
of
flight
,
it
is
no
boot
;
If
son
to
Talbot
,
die
at
Talbot’s
foot
.
Then
follow
thou
thy
desp’rate
sire
of
Crete
,
Thou
Icarus
;
thy
life
to
me
is
sweet
.
If
thou
wilt
fight
,
fight
by
thy
father’s
side
,
And
commendable
proved
,
let’s
die
in
pride
.
They
exit
.
ACT 4. SC. 7
Scene
7
Alarum
.
Excursions
.
Enter
old
Talbot
led
by
a
Servant
.
Where
is
my
other
life
?
Mine
own
is
gone
.
O
,
where’s
young
Talbot
?
Where
is
valiant
John
?
Triumphant
Death
,
smeared
with
captivity
,
Young
Talbot’s
valor
makes
me
smile
at
thee
.
When
he
perceived
me
shrink
and
on
my
knee
,
His
bloody
sword
he
brandished
over
me
,
And
like
a
hungry
lion
did
commence
Rough
deeds
of
rage
and
stern
impatience
;
But
when
my
angry
guardant
stood
alone
,
Tend’ring
my
ruin
and
assailed
of
none
,
Dizzy-eyed
fury
and
great
rage
of
heart
Suddenly
made
him
from
my
side
to
start
Into
the
clust’ring
battle
of
the
French
;
And
in
that
sea
of
blood
,
my
boy
did
drench
His
over-mounting
spirit
;
and
there
died
My
Icarus
,
my
blossom
,
in
his
pride
.
Enter
Soldiers
with
John
Talbot
,
borne
.
O
,
my
dear
lord
,
lo
where
your
son
is
borne
!
Thou
antic
Death
,
which
laugh’st
us
here
to
scorn
,
Anon
from
thy
insulting
tyranny
,
Coupled
in
bonds
of
perpetuity
,
Two
Talbots
,
wingèd
through
the
lither
sky
,
In
thy
despite
shall
scape
mortality
.
—
O
,
thou
whose
wounds
become
hard-favored
Death
,
Speak
to
thy
father
ere
thou
yield
thy
breath
!
Brave
Death
by
speaking
,
whither
he
will
or
no
.
Imagine
him
a
Frenchman
and
thy
foe
.
—
ACT 4. SC. 7
Poor
boy
,
he
smiles
,
methinks
,
as
who
should
say
Had
Death
been
French
,
then
Death
had
died
today
.
—
Come
,
come
,
and
lay
him
in
his
father’s
arms
;
My
spirit
can
no
longer
bear
these
harms
.
Soldiers
,
adieu
!
I
have
what
I
would
have
,
Now
my
old
arms
are
young
John
Talbot’s
grave
.
Dies
.
Alarums
.
Soldiers
exit
.
Enter
Charles
,
Alanson
,
Burgundy
,
Bastard
,
and
Pucelle
,
with
Forces
.
Had
York
and
Somerset
brought
rescue
in
,
We
should
have
found
a
bloody
day
of
this
.
How
the
young
whelp
of
Talbot’s
,
raging
wood
,
Did
flesh
his
puny
sword
in
Frenchmen’s
blood
!
Once
I
encountered
him
,
and
thus
I
said
:
Thou
maiden
youth
,
be
vanquished
by
a
maid
.
But
with
a
proud
majestical
high
scorn
He
answered
thus
:
Young
Talbot
was
not
born
To
be
the
pillage
of
a
giglot
wench
.
So
,
rushing
in
the
bowels
of
the
French
,
He
left
me
proudly
,
as
unworthy
fight
.
Doubtless
he
would
have
made
a
noble
knight
.
See
where
he
lies
inhearsèd
in
the
arms
Of
the
most
bloody
nurser
of
his
harms
.
Hew
them
to
pieces
,
hack
their
bones
asunder
,
Whose
life
was
England’s
glory
,
Gallia’s
wonder
.
O
,
no
,
forbear
!
For
that
which
we
have
fled
During
the
life
,
let
us
not
wrong
it
dead
.
,
ACT 4. SC. 7
Enter
Lucy
with
Attendants
and
a
French
Herald
.
Herald
,
conduct
me
to
the
Dauphin’s
tent
,
To
know
who
hath
obtained
the
glory
of
the
day
.
On
what
submissive
message
art
thou
sent
?
Submission
,
dauphin
?
’Tis
a
mere
French
word
.
We
English
warriors
wot
not
what
it
means
.
I
come
to
know
what
prisoners
thou
hast
ta’en
,
And
to
survey
the
bodies
of
the
dead
.
For
prisoners
askst
thou
?
Hell
our
prison
is
.
But
tell
me
whom
thou
seek’st
.
But
where’s
the
great
Alcides
of
the
field
,
Valiant
Lord
Talbot
,
Earl
of
Shrewsbury
,
Created
for
his
rare
success
in
arms
Great
Earl
of
Washford
,
Waterford
,
and
Valence
,
Lord
Talbot
of
Goodrich
and
Urchinfield
,
Lord
Strange
of
Blackmere
,
Lord
Verdon
of
Alton
,
Lord
Cromwell
of
Wingfield
,
Lord
Furnival
of
Sheffield
,
The
thrice
victorious
Lord
of
Falconbridge
,
Knight
of
the
noble
Order
of
Saint
George
,
Worthy
Saint
Michael
,
and
the
Golden
Fleece
,
Great
Marshal
to
Henry
the
Sixth
Of
all
his
wars
within
the
realm
of
France
?
Here’s
a
silly
stately
style
indeed
.
The
Turk
,
that
two-and-fifty
kingdoms
hath
,
Writes
not
so
tedious
a
style
as
this
.
Him
that
thou
magnifi’st
with
all
these
titles
Stinking
and
flyblown
lies
here
at
our
feet
.
ACT 4. SC. 7
Is
Talbot
slain
,
the
Frenchmen’s
only
scourge
,
Your
kingdom’s
terror
and
black
Nemesis
?
O
,
were
mine
eyeballs
into
bullets
turned
That
I
in
rage
might
shoot
them
at
your
faces
!
O
,
that
I
could
but
call
these
dead
to
life
,
It
were
enough
to
fright
the
realm
of
France
.
Were
but
his
picture
left
amongst
you
here
,
It
would
amaze
the
proudest
of
you
all
.
Give
me
their
bodies
,
that
I
may
bear
them
hence
And
give
them
burial
as
beseems
their
worth
.
I
think
this
upstart
is
old
Talbot’s
ghost
,
He
speaks
with
such
a
proud
commanding
spirit
.
For
God’s
sake
,
let
him
have
him
.
To
keep
them
here
,
They
would
but
stink
and
putrefy
the
air
.
Go
,
take
their
bodies
hence
.
I’ll
bear
them
hence
.
But
from
their
ashes
shall
be
reared
A
phoenix
that
shall
make
all
France
afeard
.
So
we
be
rid
of
them
,
do
with
him
what
thou
wilt
.
Lucy
,
Servant
,
and
Attendants
exit
,
bearing
the
bodies
.
And
now
to
Paris
in
this
conquering
vein
.
All
will
be
ours
,
now
bloody
Talbot’s
slain
.
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Sennet
.
Enter
King
,
Gloucester
,
and
Exeter
,
with
Attendants
.
,
to
Gloucester
Have
you
perused
the
letters
from
the
Pope
,
The
Emperor
,
and
the
Earl
of
Armagnac
?
I
have
,
my
lord
,
and
their
intent
is
this
:
They
humbly
sue
unto
your
Excellence
To
have
a
godly
peace
concluded
of
Between
the
realms
of
England
and
of
France
.
How
doth
your
Grace
affect
their
motion
?
Well
,
my
good
lord
,
and
as
the
only
means
To
stop
effusion
of
our
Christian
blood
And
stablish
quietness
on
every
side
.
Ay
,
marry
,
uncle
,
for
I
always
thought
It
was
both
impious
and
unnatural
That
such
immanity
and
bloody
strife
Should
reign
among
professors
of
one
faith
.
Besides
,
my
lord
,
the
sooner
to
effect
And
surer
bind
this
knot
of
amity
,
The
Earl
of
Armagnac
,
near
knit
to
Charles
,
A
man
of
great
authority
in
France
,
Proffers
his
only
daughter
to
your
Grace
In
marriage
,
with
a
large
and
sumptuous
dowry
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Marriage
,
uncle
?
Alas
,
my
years
are
young
;
And
fitter
is
my
study
and
my
books
Than
wanton
dalliance
with
a
paramour
.
Yet
call
th’
Ambassadors
and
,
as
you
please
,
So
let
them
have
their
answers
every
one
.
An
Attendant
exits
.
I
shall
be
well
content
with
any
choice
Tends
to
God’s
glory
and
my
country’s
weal
.
Enter
Winchester
,
dressed
in
cardinal’s
robes
,
and
the
Ambassador
of
Armagnac
,
a
Papal
Legate
,
and
another
Ambassador
.
,
aside
What
,
is
my
Lord
of
Winchester
installed
And
called
unto
a
cardinal’s
degree
?
Then
I
perceive
that
will
be
verified
Henry
the
Fifth
did
sometime
prophesy
:
If
once
he
come
to
be
a
cardinal
,
He’ll
make
his
cap
coequal
with
the
crown
.
My
Lords
Ambassadors
,
your
several
suits
Have
been
considered
and
debated
on
;
Your
purpose
is
both
good
and
reasonable
,
And
therefore
are
we
certainly
resolved
To
draw
conditions
of
a
friendly
peace
,
Which
by
my
Lord
of
Winchester
we
mean
Shall
be
transported
presently
to
France
.
,
to
the
Ambassador
of
Armagnac
And
for
the
proffer
of
my
lord
your
master
,
I
have
informed
his
Highness
so
at
large
As
,
liking
of
the
lady’s
virtuous
gifts
,
Her
beauty
,
and
the
value
of
her
dower
,
He
doth
intend
she
shall
be
England’s
queen
.
ACT 5. SC. 2
,
handing
a
jewel
to
the
Ambassador
In
argument
and
proof
of
which
contract
,
Bear
her
this
jewel
,
pledge
of
my
affection
.
—
And
so
,
my
Lord
Protector
,
see
them
guarded
And
safely
brought
to
Dover
,
where
,
inshipped
,
Commit
them
to
the
fortune
of
the
sea
.
All
except
Winchester
and
Legate
exit
.
Stay
,
my
Lord
Legate
;
you
shall
first
receive
The
sum
of
money
which
I
promisèd
Should
be
delivered
to
his
Holiness
For
clothing
me
in
these
grave
ornaments
.
I
will
attend
upon
your
Lordship’s
leisure
.
He
exits
.
Now
Winchester
will
not
submit
,
I
trow
,
Or
be
inferior
to
the
proudest
peer
.
Humphrey
of
Gloucester
,
thou
shalt
well
perceive
That
neither
in
birth
or
for
authority
The
Bishop
will
be
overborne
by
thee
.
I’ll
either
make
thee
stoop
and
bend
thy
knee
,
Or
sack
this
country
with
a
mutiny
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Charles
,
Burgundy
,
Alanson
,
Bastard
,
Reignier
,
and
Joan
la
Pucelle
,
with
Soldiers
.
These
news
,
my
lords
,
may
cheer
our
drooping
spirits
:
’Tis
said
the
stout
Parisians
do
revolt
And
turn
again
unto
the
warlike
French
.
Then
march
to
Paris
,
royal
Charles
of
France
,
And
keep
not
back
your
powers
in
dalliance
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Peace
be
amongst
them
if
they
turn
to
us
;
Else
ruin
combat
with
their
palaces
!
Enter
Scout
.
Success
unto
our
valiant
general
,
And
happiness
to
his
accomplices
.
What
tidings
send
our
scouts
?
I
prithee
speak
.
The
English
army
that
divided
was
Into
two
parties
is
now
conjoined
in
one
,
And
means
to
give
you
battle
presently
.
Somewhat
too
sudden
,
sirs
,
the
warning
is
,
But
we
will
presently
provide
for
them
.
I
trust
the
ghost
of
Talbot
is
not
there
.
Now
he
is
gone
,
my
lord
,
you
need
not
fear
.
Of
all
base
passions
,
fear
is
most
accursed
.
Command
the
conquest
,
Charles
,
it
shall
be
thine
;
Let
Henry
fret
and
all
the
world
repine
.
Then
on
,
my
lords
,
and
France
be
fortunate
!
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Alarum
.
Excursions
.
Enter
Joan
la
Pucelle
.
The
Regent
conquers
and
the
Frenchmen
fly
.
Now
help
,
you
charming
spells
and
periapts
,
And
you
choice
spirits
that
admonish
me
,
ACT 5. SC. 3
And
give
me
signs
of
future
accidents
.
Thunder
.
You
speedy
helpers
,
that
are
substitutes
Under
the
lordly
monarch
of
the
north
,
Appear
,
and
aid
me
in
this
enterprise
.
Enter
Fiends
.
This
speed
and
quick
appearance
argues
proof
Of
your
accustomed
diligence
to
me
.
Now
,
you
familiar
spirits
that
are
culled
Out
of
the
powerful
regions
under
earth
,
Help
me
this
once
,
that
France
may
get
the
field
.
They
walk
,
and
speak
not
.
O
,
hold
me
not
with
silence
overlong
!
Where
I
was
wont
to
feed
you
with
my
blood
,
I’ll
lop
a
member
off
and
give
it
you
In
earnest
of
a
further
benefit
,
So
you
do
condescend
to
help
me
now
.
They
hang
their
heads
.
No
hope
to
have
redress
?
My
body
shall
Pay
recompense
if
you
will
grant
my
suit
.
They
shake
their
heads
.
Cannot
my
body
nor
blood-sacrifice
Entreat
you
to
your
wonted
furtherance
?
Then
take
my
soul
—
my
body
,
soul
,
and
all
—
Before
that
England
give
the
French
the
foil
.
They
depart
.
See
,
they
forsake
me
.
Now
the
time
is
come
That
France
must
vail
her
lofty-plumèd
crest
And
let
her
head
fall
into
England’s
lap
.
My
ancient
incantations
are
too
weak
,
And
hell
too
strong
for
me
to
buckle
with
.
Now
,
France
,
thy
glory
droopeth
to
the
dust
.
She
exits
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Excursions
.
Burgundy
and
York
fight
hand
to
hand
.
Burgundy
and
the
French
fly
as
York
and
English
soldiers
capture
Joan
la
Pucelle
.
Damsel
of
France
,
I
think
I
have
you
fast
.
Unchain
your
spirits
now
with
spelling
charms
,
And
try
if
they
can
gain
your
liberty
.
A
goodly
prize
,
fit
for
the
devil’s
grace
!
See
how
the
ugly
witch
doth
bend
her
brows
As
if
with
Circe
she
would
change
my
shape
.
Changed
to
a
worser
shape
thou
canst
not
be
.
O
,
Charles
the
Dauphin
is
a
proper
man
;
No
shape
but
his
can
please
your
dainty
eye
.
A
plaguing
mischief
light
on
Charles
and
thee
,
And
may
you
both
be
suddenly
surprised
By
bloody
hands
in
sleeping
on
your
beds
!
Fell
banning
hag
!
Enchantress
,
hold
thy
tongue
.
I
prithee
give
me
leave
to
curse
awhile
.
Curse
,
miscreant
,
when
thou
com’st
to
the
stake
.
They
exit
.
Alarum
.
Enter
Suffolk
with
Margaret
in
his
hand
.
Be
what
thou
wilt
,
thou
art
my
prisoner
.
Gazes
on
her
.
O
fairest
beauty
,
do
not
fear
nor
fly
,
For
I
will
touch
thee
but
with
reverent
hands
.
I
kiss
these
fingers
for
eternal
peace
ACT 5. SC. 3
And
lay
them
gently
on
thy
tender
side
.
Who
art
thou
?
Say
,
that
I
may
honor
thee
.
Margaret
my
name
,
and
daughter
to
a
king
,
The
King
of
Naples
,
whosoe’er
thou
art
.
An
earl
I
am
,
and
Suffolk
am
I
called
.
Be
not
offended
,
nature’s
miracle
;
Thou
art
allotted
to
be
ta’en
by
me
.
So
doth
the
swan
her
downy
cygnets
save
,
Keeping
them
prisoner
underneath
her
wings
.
Yet
if
this
servile
usage
once
offend
,
Go
and
be
free
again
as
Suffolk’s
friend
.
She
is
going
.
O
,
stay
!
(
Aside
.
)
I
have
no
power
to
let
her
pass
.
My
hand
would
free
her
,
but
my
heart
says
no
.
As
plays
the
sun
upon
the
glassy
streams
,
Twinkling
another
counterfeited
beam
,
So
seems
this
gorgeous
beauty
to
mine
eyes
.
Fain
would
I
woo
her
,
yet
I
dare
not
speak
.
I’ll
call
for
pen
and
ink
and
write
my
mind
.
Fie
,
de
la
Pole
,
disable
not
thyself
!
Hast
not
a
tongue
?
Is
she
not
here
?
Wilt
thou
be
daunted
at
a
woman’s
sight
?
Ay
.
Beauty’s
princely
majesty
is
such
Confounds
the
tongue
and
makes
the
senses
rough
.
Say
,
Earl
of
Suffolk
,
if
thy
name
be
so
,
What
ransom
must
I
pay
before
I
pass
?
For
I
perceive
I
am
thy
prisoner
.
,
aside
How
canst
thou
tell
she
will
deny
thy
suit
Before
thou
make
a
trial
of
her
love
?
Why
speak’st
thou
not
?
What
ransom
must
I
pay
?
ACT 5. SC. 3
,
aside
She’s
beautiful
,
and
therefore
to
be
wooed
;
She
is
a
woman
,
therefore
to
be
won
.
Wilt
thou
accept
of
ransom
,
yea
or
no
?
,
aside
Fond
man
,
remember
that
thou
hast
a
wife
;
Then
how
can
Margaret
be
thy
paramour
?
,
aside
I
were
best
to
leave
him
,
for
he
will
not
hear
.
,
aside
There
all
is
marred
;
there
lies
a
cooling
card
.
,
aside
He
talks
at
random
;
sure
the
man
is
mad
.
,
aside
And
yet
a
dispensation
may
be
had
.
And
yet
I
would
that
you
would
answer
me
.
,
aside
I’ll
win
this
Lady
Margaret
.
For
whom
?
Why
,
for
my
king
.
Tush
,
that’s
a
wooden
thing
!
,
aside
He
talks
of
wood
.
It
is
some
carpenter
.
,
aside
Yet
so
my
fancy
may
be
satisfied
,
And
peace
establishèd
between
these
realms
.
But
there
remains
a
scruple
in
that
,
too
;
For
though
her
father
be
the
King
of
Naples
,
Duke
of
Anjou
and
Maine
,
yet
is
he
poor
,
And
our
nobility
will
scorn
the
match
.
Hear
you
,
captain
?
Are
you
not
at
leisure
?
,
aside
It
shall
be
so
,
disdain
they
ne’er
so
much
.
Henry
is
youthful
,
and
will
quickly
yield
.
—
Madam
,
I
have
a
secret
to
reveal
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
,
aside
What
though
I
be
enthralled
,
he
seems
a
knight
,
And
will
not
any
way
dishonor
me
.
Lady
,
vouchsafe
to
listen
what
I
say
.
,
aside
Perhaps
I
shall
be
rescued
by
the
French
,
And
then
I
need
not
crave
his
courtesy
.
Sweet
madam
,
give
me
hearing
in
a
cause
.
,
aside
Tush
,
women
have
been
captivate
ere
now
.
Lady
,
wherefore
talk
you
so
?
I
cry
you
mercy
,
’tis
but
quid
for
quo
.
Say
,
gentle
princess
,
would
you
not
suppose
Your
bondage
happy
,
to
be
made
a
queen
?
To
be
a
queen
in
bondage
is
more
vile
Than
is
a
slave
in
base
servility
,
For
princes
should
be
free
.
And
so
shall
you
,
If
happy
England’s
royal
king
be
free
.
Why
,
what
concerns
his
freedom
unto
me
?
I’ll
undertake
to
make
thee
Henry’s
queen
,
To
put
a
golden
scepter
in
thy
hand
And
set
a
precious
crown
upon
thy
head
,
If
thou
wilt
condescend
to
be
my
—
What
?
His
love
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
I
am
unworthy
to
be
Henry’s
wife
.
No
,
gentle
madam
,
I
unworthy
am
To
woo
so
fair
a
dame
to
be
his
wife
,
And
have
no
portion
in
the
choice
myself
.
How
say
you
,
madam
?
Are
you
so
content
?
An
if
my
father
please
,
I
am
content
.
Then
call
our
captains
and
our
colors
forth
!
A
Soldier
exits
.
And
,
madam
,
at
your
father’s
castle
walls
We’ll
crave
a
parley
to
confer
with
him
.
Enter
Captains
and
Trumpets
.
Sound
a
parley
.
Enter
Reignier
on
the
walls
.
See
,
Reignier
,
see
thy
daughter
prisoner
!
To
whom
?
To
me
.
Suffolk
,
what
remedy
?
I
am
a
soldier
and
unapt
to
weep
Or
to
exclaim
on
Fortune’s
fickleness
.
Yes
,
there
is
remedy
enough
,
my
lord
:
Consent
,
and
,
for
thy
Honor
give
consent
,
Thy
daughter
shall
be
wedded
to
my
king
,
Whom
I
with
pain
have
wooed
and
won
thereto
;
And
this
her
easy-held
imprisonment
Hath
gained
thy
daughter
princely
liberty
.
Speaks
Suffolk
as
he
thinks
?
Fair
Margaret
knows
That
Suffolk
doth
not
flatter
,
face
,
or
feign
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Upon
thy
princely
warrant
,
I
descend
To
give
thee
answer
of
thy
just
demand
.
He
exits
from
the
walls
.
And
here
I
will
expect
thy
coming
.
Trumpets
sound
.
Enter
Reignier
,
below
.
Welcome
,
brave
earl
,
into
our
territories
.
Command
in
Anjou
what
your
Honor
pleases
.
Thanks
,
Reignier
,
happy
for
so
sweet
a
child
,
Fit
to
be
made
companion
with
a
king
.
What
answer
makes
your
Grace
unto
my
suit
?
Since
thou
dost
deign
to
woo
her
little
worth
To
be
the
princely
bride
of
such
a
lord
,
Upon
condition
I
may
quietly
Enjoy
mine
own
,
the
country
Maine
and
Anjou
,
Free
from
oppression
or
the
stroke
of
war
,
My
daughter
shall
be
Henry’s
,
if
he
please
.
That
is
her
ransom
;
I
deliver
her
,
And
those
two
counties
I
will
undertake
Your
Grace
shall
well
and
quietly
enjoy
.
And
I
,
again
in
Henry’s
royal
name
As
deputy
unto
that
gracious
king
,
Give
thee
her
hand
for
sign
of
plighted
faith
.
Reignier
of
France
,
I
give
thee
kingly
thanks
Because
this
is
in
traffic
of
a
king
.
Aside
.
And
yet
methinks
I
could
be
well
content
To
be
mine
own
attorney
in
this
case
.
—
ACT 5. SC. 3
I’ll
over
then
to
England
with
this
news
,
And
make
this
marriage
to
be
solemnized
.
So
farewell
,
Reignier
;
set
this
diamond
safe
In
golden
palaces
,
as
it
becomes
.
,
embracing
Suffolk
I
do
embrace
thee
,
as
I
would
embrace
The
Christian
prince
King
Henry
,
were
he
here
.
,
to
Suffolk
Farewell
,
my
lord
;
good
wishes
,
praise
,
and
prayers
Shall
Suffolk
ever
have
of
Margaret
.
She
is
going
,
as
Reignier
exits
.
Farewell
,
sweet
madam
.
But
,
hark
you
,
Margaret
,
No
princely
commendations
to
my
king
?
Such
commendations
as
becomes
a
maid
,
A
virgin
,
and
his
servant
,
say
to
him
.
Words
sweetly
placed
and
modestly
directed
.
But
,
madam
,
I
must
trouble
you
again
:
No
loving
token
to
his
Majesty
?
Yes
,
my
good
lord
:
a
pure
unspotted
heart
,
Never
yet
taint
with
love
,
I
send
the
King
.
And
this
withal
.
Kiss
her
.
That
for
thyself
.
I
will
not
so
presume
To
send
such
peevish
tokens
to
a
king
.
She
exits
.
O
,
wert
thou
for
myself
!
But
,
Suffolk
,
stay
.
Thou
mayst
not
wander
in
that
labyrinth
.
There
Minotaurs
and
ugly
treasons
lurk
.
Solicit
Henry
with
her
wondrous
praise
;
Bethink
thee
on
her
virtues
that
surmount
ACT 5. SC. 4
And
natural
graces
that
extinguish
art
;
Repeat
their
semblance
often
on
the
seas
,
That
,
when
thou
com’st
to
kneel
at
Henry’s
feet
,
Thou
mayst
bereave
him
of
his
wits
with
wonder
.
He
exits
.
Scene
4
Enter
York
,
Warwick
,
Shepherd
,
and
Pucelle
,
guarded
.
Bring
forth
that
sorceress
condemned
to
burn
.
Ah
,
Joan
,
this
kills
thy
father’s
heart
outright
.
Have
I
sought
every
country
far
and
near
,
And
,
now
it
is
my
chance
to
find
thee
out
,
Must
I
behold
thy
timeless
cruel
death
?
Ah
,
Joan
,
sweet
daughter
Joan
,
I’ll
die
with
thee
.
Decrepit
miser
,
base
ignoble
wretch
!
I
am
descended
of
a
gentler
blood
.
Thou
art
no
father
nor
no
friend
of
mine
.
Out
,
out
!
—
My
lords
,
an
please
you
,
’tis
not
so
!
I
did
beget
her
,
all
the
parish
knows
;
Her
mother
liveth
yet
,
can
testify
She
was
the
first
fruit
of
my
bach’lorship
.
Graceless
,
wilt
thou
deny
thy
parentage
?
This
argues
what
her
kind
of
life
hath
been
,
Wicked
and
vile
;
and
so
her
death
concludes
.
Fie
,
Joan
,
that
thou
wilt
be
so
obstacle
!
ACT 5. SC. 4
God
knows
thou
art
a
collop
of
my
flesh
,
And
for
thy
sake
have
I
shed
many
a
tear
.
Deny
me
not
,
I
prithee
,
gentle
Joan
.
Peasant
,
avaunt
!
—
You
have
suborned
this
man
Of
purpose
to
obscure
my
noble
birth
.
’Tis
true
,
I
gave
a
noble
to
the
priest
The
morn
that
I
was
wedded
to
her
mother
.
—
Kneel
down
and
take
my
blessing
,
good
my
girl
.
Wilt
thou
not
stoop
?
Now
cursèd
be
the
time
Of
thy
nativity
!
I
would
the
milk
Thy
mother
gave
thee
when
thou
suck’dst
her
breast
Had
been
a
little
ratsbane
for
thy
sake
!
Or
else
,
when
thou
didst
keep
my
lambs
afield
,
I
wish
some
ravenous
wolf
had
eaten
thee
!
Dost
thou
deny
thy
father
,
cursèd
drab
?
O
burn
her
,
burn
her
!
Hanging
is
too
good
.
He
exits
.
Take
her
away
,
for
she
hath
lived
too
long
To
fill
the
world
with
vicious
qualities
.
First
,
let
me
tell
you
whom
you
have
condemned
:
Not
one
begotten
of
a
shepherd
swain
,
But
issued
from
the
progeny
of
kings
,
Virtuous
and
holy
,
chosen
from
above
By
inspiration
of
celestial
grace
To
work
exceeding
miracles
on
earth
.
I
never
had
to
do
with
wicked
spirits
.
But
you
,
that
are
polluted
with
your
lusts
,
Stained
with
the
guiltless
blood
of
innocents
,
Corrupt
and
tainted
with
a
thousand
vices
,
Because
you
want
the
grace
that
others
have
,
You
judge
it
straight
a
thing
impossible
ACT 5. SC. 4
To
compass
wonders
but
by
help
of
devils
.
No
,
misconceivèd
!
Joan
of
Arc
hath
been
A
virgin
from
her
tender
infancy
,
Chaste
and
immaculate
in
very
thought
,
Whose
maiden
blood
,
thus
rigorously
effused
,
Will
cry
for
vengeance
at
the
gates
of
heaven
.
Ay
,
ay
.
—
Away
with
her
to
execution
.
And
hark
you
,
sirs
:
because
she
is
a
maid
,
Spare
for
no
faggots
;
let
there
be
enow
.
Place
barrels
of
pitch
upon
the
fatal
stake
That
so
her
torture
may
be
shortenèd
.
Will
nothing
turn
your
unrelenting
hearts
?
Then
,
Joan
,
discover
thine
infirmity
,
That
warranteth
by
law
to
be
thy
privilege
:
I
am
with
child
,
you
bloody
homicides
.
Murder
not
then
the
fruit
within
my
womb
,
Although
you
hale
me
to
a
violent
death
.
Now
heaven
forfend
,
the
holy
maid
with
child
?
,
to
Pucelle
The
greatest
miracle
that
e’er
you
wrought
!
Is
all
your
strict
preciseness
come
to
this
?
She
and
the
Dauphin
have
been
juggling
.
I
did
imagine
what
would
be
her
refuge
.
Well
,
go
to
,
we’ll
have
no
bastards
live
,
Especially
since
Charles
must
father
it
.
You
are
deceived
;
my
child
is
none
of
his
.
It
was
Alanson
that
enjoyed
my
love
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
Alanson
,
that
notorious
Machiavel
?
It
dies
an
if
it
had
a
thousand
lives
!
O
,
give
me
leave
!
I
have
deluded
you
.
’Twas
neither
Charles
nor
yet
the
Duke
I
named
,
But
Reignier
,
King
of
Naples
,
that
prevailed
.
A
married
man
?
That’s
most
intolerable
.
Why
,
here’s
a
girl
!
I
think
she
knows
not
well
—
There
were
so
many
—
whom
she
may
accuse
.
It’s
sign
she
hath
been
liberal
and
free
.
And
yet
,
forsooth
,
she
is
a
virgin
pure
!
—
Strumpet
,
thy
words
condemn
thy
brat
and
thee
.
Use
no
entreaty
,
for
it
is
in
vain
.
Then
lead
me
hence
,
with
whom
I
leave
my
curse
:
May
never
glorious
sun
reflex
his
beams
Upon
the
country
where
you
make
abode
,
But
darkness
and
the
gloomy
shade
of
death
Environ
you
,
till
mischief
and
despair
Drive
you
to
break
your
necks
or
hang
yourselves
.
She
exits
,
led
by
Guards
.
Break
thou
in
pieces
,
and
consume
to
ashes
,
Thou
foul
accursèd
minister
of
hell
!
Enter
Winchester
,
as
Cardinal
.
Lord
Regent
,
I
do
greet
your
Excellence
With
letters
of
commission
from
the
King
.
For
know
,
my
lords
,
the
states
of
Christendom
,
ACT 5. SC. 4
Moved
with
remorse
of
these
outrageous
broils
,
Have
earnestly
implored
a
general
peace
Betwixt
our
nation
and
the
aspiring
French
;
And
here
at
hand
the
Dauphin
and
his
train
Approacheth
to
confer
about
some
matter
.
Is
all
our
travail
turned
to
this
effect
?
After
the
slaughter
of
so
many
peers
,
So
many
captains
,
gentlemen
,
and
soldiers
That
in
this
quarrel
have
been
overthrown
And
sold
their
bodies
for
their
country’s
benefit
,
Shall
we
at
last
conclude
effeminate
peace
?
Have
we
not
lost
most
part
of
all
the
towns
—
By
treason
,
falsehood
,
and
by
treachery
—
Our
great
progenitors
had
conquerèd
?
O
,
Warwick
,
Warwick
,
I
foresee
with
grief
The
utter
loss
of
all
the
realm
of
France
!
Be
patient
,
York
;
if
we
conclude
a
peace
It
shall
be
with
such
strict
and
severe
covenants
As
little
shall
the
Frenchmen
gain
thereby
.
Enter
Charles
,
Alanson
,
Bastard
,
Reignier
,
with
Attendants
.
Since
,
lords
of
England
,
it
is
thus
agreed
That
peaceful
truce
shall
be
proclaimed
in
France
,
We
come
to
be
informèd
by
yourselves
What
the
conditions
of
that
league
must
be
.
Speak
,
Winchester
,
for
boiling
choler
chokes
The
hollow
passage
of
my
poisoned
voice
By
sight
of
these
our
baleful
enemies
.
Charles
and
the
rest
,
it
is
enacted
thus
:
ACT 5. SC. 4
That
,
in
regard
King
Henry
gives
consent
,
Of
mere
compassion
and
of
lenity
,
To
ease
your
country
of
distressful
war
And
suffer
you
to
breathe
in
fruitful
peace
,
You
shall
become
true
liegemen
to
his
crown
.
And
,
Charles
,
upon
condition
thou
wilt
swear
To
pay
him
tribute
and
submit
thyself
,
Thou
shalt
be
placed
as
viceroy
under
him
,
And
still
enjoy
thy
regal
dignity
.
Must
he
be
then
as
shadow
of
himself
—
Adorn
his
temples
with
a
coronet
,
And
yet
,
in
substance
and
authority
,
Retain
but
privilege
of
a
private
man
?
This
proffer
is
absurd
and
reasonless
.
’Tis
known
already
that
I
am
possessed
With
more
than
half
the
Gallian
territories
,
And
therein
reverenced
for
their
lawful
king
.
Shall
I
,
for
lucre
of
the
rest
unvanquished
,
Detract
so
much
from
that
prerogative
As
to
be
called
but
viceroy
of
the
whole
?
No
,
lord
ambassador
,
I’ll
rather
keep
That
which
I
have
than
,
coveting
for
more
,
Be
cast
from
possibility
of
all
.
Insulting
Charles
,
hast
thou
by
secret
means
Used
intercession
to
obtain
a
league
And
,
now
the
matter
grows
to
compromise
,
Stand’st
thou
aloof
upon
comparison
?
Either
accept
the
title
thou
usurp’st
,
Of
benefit
proceeding
from
our
king
And
not
of
any
challenge
of
desert
,
Or
we
will
plague
thee
with
incessant
wars
.
,
aside
to
Charles
My
lord
,
you
do
not
well
in
obstinacy
ACT 5. SC. 4
To
cavil
in
the
course
of
this
contract
.
If
once
it
be
neglected
,
ten
to
one
We
shall
not
find
like
opportunity
.
,
aside
to
Charles
To
say
the
truth
,
it
is
your
policy
To
save
your
subjects
from
such
massacre
And
ruthless
slaughters
as
are
daily
seen
By
our
proceeding
in
hostility
;
And
therefore
take
this
compact
of
a
truce
Although
you
break
it
when
your
pleasure
serves
.
How
say’st
thou
,
Charles
?
Shall
our
condition
stand
?
It
shall
—
only
reserved
you
claim
no
interest
In
any
of
our
towns
of
garrison
.
Then
swear
allegiance
to
his
Majesty
,
As
thou
art
knight
,
never
to
disobey
Nor
be
rebellious
to
the
crown
of
England
,
Thou
nor
thy
nobles
,
to
the
crown
of
England
.
Charles
,
Alanson
,
Bastard
,
and
Reignier
swear
allegiance
to
Henry
.
So
,
now
dismiss
your
army
when
you
please
;
Hang
up
your
ensigns
,
let
your
drums
be
still
,
For
here
we
entertain
a
solemn
peace
.
They
exit
.
Scene
5
Enter
Suffolk
in
conference
with
the
King
,
Gloucester
,
and
Exeter
,
with
Attendants
.
Your
wondrous
rare
description
,
noble
earl
,
Of
beauteous
Margaret
hath
astonished
me
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
Her
virtues
gracèd
with
external
gifts
Do
breed
love’s
settled
passions
in
my
heart
,
And
like
as
rigor
of
tempestuous
gusts
Provokes
the
mightiest
hulk
against
the
tide
,
So
am
I
driven
by
breath
of
her
renown
Either
to
suffer
shipwrack
,
or
arrive
Where
I
may
have
fruition
of
her
love
.
Tush
,
my
good
lord
,
this
superficial
tale
Is
but
a
preface
of
her
worthy
praise
.
The
chief
perfections
of
that
lovely
dame
,
Had
I
sufficient
skill
to
utter
them
,
Would
make
a
volume
of
enticing
lines
Able
to
ravish
any
dull
conceit
;
And
,
which
is
more
,
she
is
not
so
divine
,
So
full
replete
with
choice
of
all
delights
,
But
with
as
humble
lowliness
of
mind
She
is
content
to
be
at
your
command
—
Command
,
I
mean
,
of
virtuous
chaste
intents
—
To
love
and
honor
Henry
as
her
lord
.
And
otherwise
will
Henry
ne’er
presume
.
—
Therefore
,
my
Lord
Protector
,
give
consent
That
Margaret
may
be
England’s
royal
queen
.
So
should
I
give
consent
to
flatter
sin
.
You
know
,
my
lord
,
your
Highness
is
betrothed
Unto
another
lady
of
esteem
.
How
shall
we
then
dispense
with
that
contract
And
not
deface
your
honor
with
reproach
?
As
doth
a
ruler
with
unlawful
oaths
;
Or
one
that
,
at
a
triumph
having
vowed
To
try
his
strength
,
forsaketh
yet
the
lists
By
reason
of
his
adversary’s
odds
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
A
poor
earl’s
daughter
is
unequal
odds
,
And
therefore
may
be
broke
without
offense
.
Why
,
what
,
I
pray
,
is
Margaret
more
than
that
?
Her
father
is
no
better
than
an
earl
,
Although
in
glorious
titles
he
excel
.
Yes
,
my
lord
,
her
father
is
a
king
,
The
King
of
Naples
and
Jerusalem
,
And
of
such
great
authority
in
France
As
his
alliance
will
confirm
our
peace
,
And
keep
the
Frenchmen
in
allegiance
.
And
so
the
Earl
of
Armagnac
may
do
,
Because
he
is
near
kinsman
unto
Charles
.
Besides
,
his
wealth
doth
warrant
a
liberal
dower
,
Where
Reignier
sooner
will
receive
than
give
.
A
dower
,
my
lords
?
Disgrace
not
so
your
king
That
he
should
be
so
abject
,
base
,
and
poor
,
To
choose
for
wealth
and
not
for
perfect
love
.
Henry
is
able
to
enrich
his
queen
,
And
not
to
seek
a
queen
to
make
him
rich
;
So
worthless
peasants
bargain
for
their
wives
,
As
market
men
for
oxen
,
sheep
,
or
horse
.
Marriage
is
a
matter
of
more
worth
Than
to
be
dealt
in
by
attorneyship
.
Not
whom
we
will
,
but
whom
his
Grace
affects
,
Must
be
companion
of
his
nuptial
bed
.
And
therefore
,
lords
,
since
he
affects
her
most
,
Most
of
all
these
reasons
bindeth
us
In
our
opinions
she
should
be
preferred
.
For
what
is
wedlock
forcèd
but
a
hell
,
An
age
of
discord
and
continual
strife
?
ACT 5. SC. 5
Whereas
the
contrary
bringeth
bliss
And
is
a
pattern
of
celestial
peace
.
Whom
should
we
match
with
Henry
,
being
a
king
,
But
Margaret
,
that
is
daughter
to
a
king
?
Her
peerless
feature
,
joinèd
with
her
birth
,
Approves
her
fit
for
none
but
for
a
king
.
Her
valiant
courage
and
undaunted
spirit
,
More
than
in
women
commonly
is
seen
,
Will
answer
our
hope
in
issue
of
a
king
.
For
Henry
,
son
unto
a
conqueror
,
Is
likely
to
beget
more
conquerors
,
If
with
a
lady
of
so
high
resolve
As
is
fair
Margaret
he
be
linked
in
love
.
Then
yield
,
my
lords
,
and
here
conclude
with
me
That
Margaret
shall
be
queen
,
and
none
but
she
.
Whether
it
be
through
force
of
your
report
,
My
noble
Lord
of
Suffolk
,
or
for
that
My
tender
youth
was
never
yet
attaint
With
any
passion
of
inflaming
love
,
I
cannot
tell
;
but
this
I
am
assured
:
I
feel
such
sharp
dissension
in
my
breast
,
Such
fierce
alarums
both
of
hope
and
fear
,
As
I
am
sick
with
working
of
my
thoughts
.
Take
therefore
shipping
;
post
,
my
lord
,
to
France
;
Agree
to
any
covenants
,
and
procure
That
Lady
Margaret
do
vouchsafe
to
come
To
cross
the
seas
to
England
and
be
crowned
King
Henry’s
faithful
and
anointed
queen
.
For
your
expenses
and
sufficient
charge
,
Among
the
people
gather
up
a
tenth
.
Be
gone
,
I
say
,
for
till
you
do
return
,
I
rest
perplexèd
with
a
thousand
cares
.
—
And
you
,
good
uncle
,
banish
all
offense
.
If
you
do
censure
me
by
what
you
were
,
ACT 5. SC. 5
Not
what
you
are
,
I
know
it
will
excuse
This
sudden
execution
of
my
will
.
And
so
conduct
me
where
,
from
company
,
I
may
revolve
and
ruminate
my
grief
.
He
exits
with
Attendants
.
Ay
,
grief
,
I
fear
me
,
both
at
first
and
last
.
Gloucester
exits
with
Exeter
.
Thus
Suffolk
hath
prevailed
,
and
thus
he
goes
As
did
the
youthful
Paris
once
to
Greece
,
With
hope
to
find
the
like
event
in
love
,
But
prosper
better
than
the
Trojan
did
.
Margaret
shall
now
be
queen
,
and
rule
the
King
,
But
I
will
rule
both
her
,
the
King
,
and
realm
.
He
exits
.
all or part of a full metrical line
all or part of a prose speech
a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose
editorial emendation