« PreviousContinue »
And then depart to Paris to the King ;
Burg. What wills Lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet before we go, let's not forget The Noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd; But see his exequies fulfill'd in Roan. A braver soldier never couched lance, A gencler heart did never sway in court. But kings and mightiest potentates must die, For that's the end of human mifery. [Exeunt.
S CE N E VII.
Pucel. Dismay not, Princes, at this accident,
Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
Baft. Search out thy wit for secret policies,
Alan. We'll set thy statue in fome hollow place, And have thee reverence'd like a blessed saint. Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be, this doth Joan devise:
Dan. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we cou'd do that,
Alan. For ever should they be expuls'd from France,
To bring this matter to the wilhed end.
[Drum beats afar off Hark, by the found of drum you may perceive. Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
[Here beat an English march. There goes the Talbo: with his colours spread, And all the troops of English after him. Now in the rereward comes the Duke and his :
[French marche Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind; Summon a parley, we will talk with him.
[Trumpets found a parley, SCENE VIII. Enter the Duke of Burgundy marching.
Dau. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy.
ing hence. Dau. Speak, Pucelle, and inchant him with thy words.
Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France ! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
Burg. Speak on, but be not over-tedious.
Pucel. Look on thy country, look on fertile France ! And see the cities and the towns-deface'd By wasting ruin of the cruel foé. As looks the mother on her lovely babe, When death doth close his tender dying eyes; See, see the pining malady of France, Behold the wounds, the most unnatral wounds, Which thou thyself haft given her woful breast. Oh, turn thy edged sword another way; Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.. One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bofom, Should grieve thee more than streams of common gore; Return thee therefore with a flood of tears, And wath away thy country's stained spots.
Burz. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words, Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
Pucel. Besides, all French and Franceexclaim on thee, Doubting thy birth, and lawful progeny. Whom join'lt thou with, but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit's fake?
Burg. I'm vanquishd. These haughty words of her's
Pucel. Done like a Frenchmen: turn, and turn a
Dai. Welcome, brave Duke! they friendihip makes
Baft. And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
Alan. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
Dau. Now, let us on, my Lords, and join our powers,
SCENE IX. Changes to Paris.
folk, Somerset, Warwick, Exeter, &c. To them Tal-
Tal. My gracious Prince, and honourable Peers,
* This seems to be an effiring of the poet to his royal mistressis
To do my duty to my sovereign.
K.Henry. Is this the fam'd Lord Talbot,uncle Glo'ster, That hath so long been resident in France ?
Glou. Yes, if it please your Majesty, my Liege.
K. Henry. Welcome, brave Captain, and viétorious When I was young, (as yet I am not old), [Lord. I do remember how my father said, A stouter champion never handled sword. Long since we were resolved of your truth, Your faithful service and your toil in war ; Yet never have you tasted your reward, Or been reguerdon’d with lo 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. [Excurt,
Manent Vernon and Baffet. Ver. Now, Sir, to you that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In honour of my Noble Lord of York; Dar'it thou maintain the former words thou fpak'st?
Bas. Yes, Sir, as well as you dare patronage
Ver. Sirrah, thy Lord I honour as he is.
When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.
Ver. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you, And after meet you fooner than you
ACT IV. S C Ε Ν Ε Ι.
Paris. Enter King Henry, Gloucester, Winchester, York, Suf
folk, Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, and Ge
vernor of Paris. Glou. Ord Bishop, set the crown upon his head.
the Sixth ! Glou. Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath, That you eleet no other King but him; Esteem hone friends but such as are his friends, And none your foes but such as fhall pretend Malicious practices against his state. This fhall ye do, so help you righteous God!
Enter Falstaff. Fal. My gracious Sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To hafte unto your coronation, A letter was deliver'd to my hands, Writ to your Grace from th' Duke of Burgundy."
Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! Í vow'd, base Knight, when I did meet thee next, To tear the garter from thy craven leg; Which I have done ; because unworthily Thou wast installed in that high degree. Pardon me; Princely Henry, and the rest: This daitard, at the battle of Poiétiers, When but in all I was fix 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 luft twelve hundred men; My felf and divers gentlemen beside Were there furpris'd, and taken prisoners. Then judge, great Lords, if I have done amiss: Oi whether that such cowards ought to wear
3 B 2