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This ornament of knighthood, yea, or no?
Glou. To say the truth, this fact was infamous,
Tal. When first this order was ordain’d, iny Lords,
K. Henry. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'st thy Be packing therefore, thou that wast a Knight; Henceforth we banish thee: on pain of death. (Exit Fal, And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy. Glou. What means his Grace, that he hath changed
his style ? No more but plain and bluntly, To the King. [Reading. Hath he forgot he is his Sovereign? Or doth his churlish superscription: Portend fome alteration in good-will? What's here? I have upon especial cause, [Reads. Mou'd with compassion of my country's wreck, Together with the pitiful complaints: Of such as your oppression feeds upon, Forsaken your pernicious faction; And join'd 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 diffembling guile?
K. Henry. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? Glou. He doth, my Lord, and is become your foe. K. Henry. Is that the worst this letter doth contain ? Glou. It is the worst, and all, my Lord, he writes,
K. Henry. Why then, Lord Talbot there shall talk And give him chastiferpent for this abuse. [with him,
My Lord, how say you, are you not content?
K. Henry. Then gather strength, and march unto him Let him perceive how ill we brook his treaton, [ltrait: And what offence it is to fiout his friends.
Tal. I go, my Lord, in heart defiring still You may behold confusion of your foes. [Exit Talbot.
SCENE II. Enter Vernon aud Baffet. Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious Sovereign. Bas. And me, my Lord, grant me the combat too. York. This is my servant; hear him, Noble Prince. Som. And this is mine; sweet Henry, favour him. K. Henry. Be patient, Lords, and give them leave to
speak. Say, Gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?
Ver. With him, my Lord, for he hath done me wrong. Baf. And I with him, for he hath done me wrong.
K. Henry. What is the wrong whereon you both comFirst let me know, and then I'll answer you. (plain.
Bal. Crossing the sea from England into France,
Ver. And that is my petition, Noble Lord:
York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out; Though ne'er to cunningly you smother it.
K. Henry. Good Lord! what madness rules in brainWhen, for fo flight and frivolous a cause, [fick men ! Such factious emulations shall arise ! Good cousins both of York and Somerset, Quiet yourlelves, I pray, and be at peace.
York. Let this diffenfion first be try'd by fight; And then your Highness thall command a peace.
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset:
Glou. Confirm it fo! confounded be your strife;
friends. K. Henry. Come hither, you that wou'd be combatants. Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour, 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 diffenfion in our looks, And that within ourselves we disagree, How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd To wilful disobedience, and rehel? Beside, what infamy will there arife, When foreign princes shall be certify'd, That for a toy, a thing of no regard, King Henry's Peers and chief nobility Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of France! 0, think upon the conquest of my father,
My tender years, and let us not forego
choler on your enemies.
[Flourish. Exeunt, Manent York, Warwick, Exeter, and Vernon. War. My Lord of York, I promise you, the King Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
York. And so he did ; but yet I like it not, In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
War. Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not:. I dare presume, sweet Prince, he thought no harm.
York. And if I wis, he did. -But let it reit; Other affairs must now be managed. [Exeunt.
Maret Exeter. Exe. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice: For had the passions of thy heart burit out, I fear we thould have seen decypher'd there More ranç'rous ipigbt, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or fuppos'd.
SCENE III. Before the walls of Bourdeaux.
Enter Talbot with trumpets aud drums.
Enter General, aloft.
Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,