Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:The French are brauely in their battailes set,And will with all expedience charge on vs
King. All things are ready, if our minds be so
West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now
King. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,Couze?West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile
King. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.You know your places: God be with you all.
Tucket. Enter Montioy.
Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercyThe Constable desires thee, thou wilt mindThy followers of Repentance; that their SoulesMay make a peacefull and a sweet retyreFrom off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodiesMust lye and fester
King. Who hath sent thee now?Mont. The Constable of France
King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?The man that once did sell the Lyons skinWhile the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.A many of our bodyes shall no doubtFind Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trustShall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.Marke then abounding valour in our English:That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,We are but Warriors for the working day:Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrchtWith raynie Marching in the painefull field.There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluckThe gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,As if God please, they shall; my Ransome thenWill soone be leuyed.Herauld, saue thou thy labour:Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable
Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more.Enter.
King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for aRansome.Enter Yorke.
Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I beggeThe leading of the Vaward
King. Take it, braue Yorke.Now Souldiers march away,And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day.
Exeunt.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistoll, French Souldier, Boy.
Pist. Yeeld Curre
French. Ie pense que vous estes le Gentilhome de bon qualitee
Pist. Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a Gentleman?What is thy Name? discusse
French. O Seigneur Dieu
Pist. O Signieur Dewe should be a Gentleman: perpend my words O Signieur Dewe, and marke: O Signieur Dewe, thou dyest on point of Fox, except O Signieur thou doe giue to me egregious Ransome
French. O prennes miserecordie aye pitez de moy
Pist. Moy shall not serue, I will haue fortie Moyes: forI will fetch thy rymme out at thy Throat, in droppes ofCrimson blood
French. Est il impossible d' eschapper le force de ton bras
Pist. Brasse, Curre? thou damned and luxurious MountaineGoat, offer'st me Brasse?French. O perdonne moy
Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a Tonne of Moyes?Come hither boy, aske me this slaue in French what is hisName
Boy. Escoute comment estes vous appelle?French. Mounsieur le Fer
Boy. He sayes his Name is M. Fer
Pist. M. Fer: Ile fer him, and firke him, and ferret him:discusse the same in French vnto him
Boy. I doe not know the French for fer, and ferret, andfirke
Pist. Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat
French. Que dit il Mounsieur?Boy. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faite vousprest, car ce soldat icy est disposee tout asture de couppes vostregorge
Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge permafoy pesant, vnlesse thou giue me Crownes, braue Crownes; or mangled shalt thou be by this my Sword
French. O Ie vous supplie pour l' amour de Dieu: ma pardonner, Ie suis le Gentilhome de bon maison, garde ma vie, & Ie vous donneray deux cent escus
Pist. What are his words?Boy. He prayes you to saue his life, he is a Gentlemanof a good house, and for his ransom he will giue you twohundred Crownes
Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the Crowneswill take
Fren. Petit Monsieur que dit il?Boy. Encore qu'il et contra son Iurement, de pardonner aucuneprisonner: neantmons pour les escues que vous layt a promets,il est content a vous donnes le liberte le franchisement
Fre. Sur mes genoux se vous donnes milles remercious, etIe me estime heurex que Ie intombe, entre les main d' vn CheualierIe pense le plus braue valiant et tres distime signieurd' Angleterre
Pist. Expound vnto me boy
Boy. He giues you vpon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteemes himselfe happy, that he hath falne into the hands of one (as he thinkes) the most braue, valorous and thrice-worthy signeur of England
Pist. As I sucke blood, I will some mercy shew. Follow mee
Boy. Saaue vous le grand Capitaine? I did neuer know so full a voyce issue from so emptie a heart: but the saying is true, The empty vessel makes the greatest sound, Bardolfe and Nym had tenne times more valour, then this roaring diuell i'th olde play, that euerie one may payre his nayles with a woodden dagger, and they are both hang'd, and so would this be, if hee durst steale any thing aduenturously. I must stay with the Lackies with the luggage of our camp, the French might haue a good pray of vs, if he knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boyes. Enter.
Enter Constable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin, and Rambures.
Con. O Diable
Orl. O signeur le iour et perdia, toute et perdie
Dol. Mor Dieu ma vie, all is confounded all,Reproach, and euerlasting shameSits mocking in our Plumes.
A short Alarum.
O meschante Fortune, do not runne away
Con. Why all our rankes are broke
Dol. O perdurable shame, let's stab our selues:Be these the wretches that we plaid at dice for?Orl. Is this the King we sent too, for his ransome?Bur. Shame, and eternall shame, nothing but shame,Let vs dye in once more backe againe,And he that will not follow Burbon now,Let him go hence, and with his cap in handLike a base Pander hold the Chamber doore,Whilst a base slaue, no gentler then my dogge,His fairest daughter is contaminated
Con. Disorder that hath spoyl'd vs, friend vs now,Let vs on heapes go offer vp our liues
Orl. We are enow yet liuing in the Field,To smother vp the English in our throngs,If any order might be thought vpon
Bur. The diuell take Order now, Ile to the throng;Let life be short, else shame will be too long.Enter.
Alarum. Enter the King and his trayne, with Prisoners.
King. Well haue we done, thrice-valiant Countrimen,But all's not done, yet keepe the French the field
Exe. The D[uke]. of York commends him to your MaiestyKing. Liues he good Vnckle: thrice within this houreI saw him downe; thrice vp againe, and fighting,From Helmet to the spurre, all blood he was
Exe. In which array (braue Soldier) doth he lye,Larding the plaine: and by his bloody side,(Yoake-fellow to his honour-owing-wounds)The Noble Earle of Suffolke also lyes.Suffolke first dyed, and Yorke all hagled ouerComes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,And takes him by the Beard, kisses the gashesThat bloodily did yawne vpon his face.He cryes aloud; Tarry my Cosin Suffolke,My soule shall thine keepe company to heauen:Tarry (sweet soule) for mine, then flye a-brest:As in this glorious and well-foughten fieldWe kept together in our Chiualrie.Vpon these words I came, and cheer'd him vp,He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,And with a feeble gripe, sayes: Deere my Lord,Commend my seruice to my Soueraigne,So did he turne, and ouer Suffolkes neckeHe threw his wounded arme, and kist his lippes,And so espous'd to death, with blood he seal'dA Testament of Noble-ending-loue:The prettie and sweet manner of it forc'dThose waters from me, which I would haue stop'd,But I had not so much of man in mee,And all my mother came into mine eyes,And gaue me vp to teares
King. I blame you not,For hearing this, I must perforce compoundWith mixtfull eyes, or they will issue to.
Alarum
But hearke, what new alarum is this same?The French haue re-enforc'd their scatter'd men:Then euery souldiour kill his Prisoners,Giue the word through.
Exit
Actus Quartus.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience now, is it not? Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners throat. O 'tis a gallant King
Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:What call you the Townes name where Alexander thepig was borne?Gow. Alexander the Great
Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variations
Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I take it
Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend Clytus
Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd any of his friends
Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name
Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne at Monmouth
Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.
Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.
King. I was not angry since I came to France,Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.If they'l do neither, we will come to them,And make them sker away, as swift as stonesEnforced from the old Assyrian slings:Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,And not a man of them that we shall take,Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.Enter Montioy.
Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my LiegeGlou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be
King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowstthou not,That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?Com'st thou againe for ransome?Her. No great King:I come to thee for charitable License,That we may wander ore this bloody field,To booke our dead, and then to bury them,To sort our Nobles from our common men.For many of our Princes (woe the while)Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbesIn blood of Princes, and with wounded steedsFret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rageYerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,To view the field in safety, and disposeOf their dead bodies
Kin. I tell thee truly Herald,I know not if the day be ours or no,For yet a many of your horsemen peere,And gallop ore the field
Her. The day is yours
Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by
Her. They call it Agincourt
King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus
Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought a most praue pattle here in France
Kin. They did Fluellen
Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon S[aint]. Tauies day
King. I weare it for a memorable honor:For I am Welch you know good Countriman
Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your MaiestiesWelsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases hisGrace, and his Maiesty too
Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen
Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God so long as your Maiesty is an honest man
King. Good keepe me so.Enter Williams.
Our Heralds go with him,Bring me iust notice of the numbers deadOn both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither
Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King
Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thyCappe?Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of onethat I should fight withall, if he be aliue
Kin. An Englishman? Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil strike it out soundly
Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit thissouldier keepe his oath
Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't pleaseyour Maiesty in my conscience
King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of greatsort quite from the answer of his degree
Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st the fellow
Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue
King. Who seru'st thou vnder?Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege
Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledgeand literatured in the Warres
King. Call him hither to me, Souldier
Will. I will my Liege.Enter.
King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend him, and thou do'st me loue
Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see it once, and please God of his grace that I might see
King. Know'st thou Gower?Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you
King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to myTent
Flu. I will fetch him.Enter.
King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine shouldWeare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudgeBy his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:For I doe know Fluellen valiant,And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,And quickly will returne an iniurie.Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.
Exeunt.
Enter Gower and Williams.
Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.Enter Fluellen.
Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech you now, come apace to the King: there is more good toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to dreame of
Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue
Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.
Strikes him.
Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the VniuersallWorld, or in France, or in England
Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine
Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treasonhis payment into plowes, I warrant you
Will. I am no Traytor
Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in hisMaiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the DukeAlansons.Enter Warwick and Gloucester.
Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter? Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his Maiestie. Enter King and Exeter.
King. How now, what's the matter?Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue whichyour Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson
Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as good as my word
Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience now
King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;Looke, heere is the fellow of it:'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes
Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answerefor it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World
King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuercame any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie
King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse
Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I beseech your Highnesse pardon me
King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him
Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I warrant you it is the better for you
Will. I will none of your Money
Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue you to mend your shooes: come, wherefore should you be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: 'tis a good silling I warrant you, or I will change it. Enter Herauld.
King. Now Herauld, are the dead numbred?Herald. Heere is the number of the slaught'redFrench
King. What Prisoners of good sort are taken,Vnckle?Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King,Iohn Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchiquald:Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires,Full fifteene hundred, besides common men
King. This Note doth tell me of ten thousand FrenchThat in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number,And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye deadOne hundred twentie six: added to these,Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen,Eight thousand and foure hundred: of the which,Fiue hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights.So that in these ten thousand they haue lost,There are but sixteene hundred Mercenaries:The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie.The Names of those their Nobles that lye dead:Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,Iaques of Chatilion, Admirall of France,The Master of the Crosse-bowes, Lord Rambures,Great Master of France, the braue Sir Guichard Dolphin,Iohn Duke of Alanson, Anthonie Duke of Brabant,The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie,And Edward Duke of Barr: of lustie Earles,Grandpree and Roussie, Fauconbridge and Foyes,Beaumont and Marle, Vandemont and Lestrale.Here was a Royall fellowship of death.Where is the number of our English dead?Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke,Sir Richard Ketly, Dauy Gam Esquire;None else of name: and of all other men,But fiue and twentie.O God, thy Arme was heere:And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone,Ascribe we all: when, without stratagem,But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile,Was euer knowne so great and little losse?On one part and on th' other, take it God,For it is none but thine
Exet. 'Tis wonderfull
King. Come, goe we in procession to the Village:And be it death proclaymed through our Hoast,To boast of this, or take that prayse from God,Which is his onely
Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maiestie, to tellhow many is kill'd?King. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowledgement,That God fought for vs
Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did vs great good
King. Doe we all holy Rights:Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum,The dead with charitie enclos'd in Clay:And then to Callice, and to England then,Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Chorus.
Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story,That I may prompt them: and of such as haue,I humbly pray them to admit th' excuseOf time, of numbers, and due course of things,Which cannot in their huge and proper life,Be here presented. Now we beare the KingToward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene,Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts,Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beachPales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes,Whose shouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea,Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King,Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land,And solemnly see him set on to London.So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen nowYou may imagine him vpon Black-Heath:Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borneHis bruised Helmet, and his bended SwordBefore him, through the Citie: he forbids it,Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride;Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent,Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold,In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought,How London doth powre out her Citizens,The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort,Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome,With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles,Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring Cęsar in:As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood,Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse,As in good time he may, from Ireland comming,Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword;How many would the peacefull Citie quit,To welcome him? much more, and much more cause,Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.As yet the lamentation of the FrenchInuites the King of Englands stay at home:The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France,To order peace betweene them: and omitAll the occurrences, what euer chanc't,Till Harryes backe returne againe to France:There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'dThe interim, by remembring you 'tis past.Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance,After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France.Enter.
Enter Fluellen and Gower.
Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you yourLeeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past
Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World, know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke: it was in a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. Enter Pistoll.
Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock
Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks.God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsieKnaue, God plesse you
Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, baseTroian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence;I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke
Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate, looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you to eate it
Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats
Flu. There is one Goat for you.
Strikes him.
Will you be so good, scauld Knaue, as eate it?Pist. Base Troian, thou shalt dye
Flu. You say very true, scauld Knaue, when Gods will is: I will desire you to liue in the meane time, and eate your Victuals: come, there is sawce for it. You call'd me yesterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke
Gour. Enough Captaine, you haue astonisht him
Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke, or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxecombe
Pist. Must I bite
Flu. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of questiontoo, and ambiguities
Pist. By this Leeke, I will most horribly reuenge Ieate and eate I sweare
Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauceto your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sweare by
Pist. Quiet thy Cudgell, thou dost see I eate
Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay, pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your broken Coxcombe; when you take occasions to see Leekes heereafter, I pray you mocke at 'em, that is all
Pist. Good
Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat toheale your pate
Pist. Me a groat?Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haueanother Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate
Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of reuenge
Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels, you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels: God bu'y you, and keepe you, & heale your pate.
Exit
Pist. All hell shall stirre for this
Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue, will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vppon an honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Trophee of predeceased valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds any of your words. I haue seene you gleeking & galling at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speake English in the natiue garb, he could not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it otherwise, and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach you a good English condition, fare ye well.
Exit
Pist. Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now?Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i'th Spittle of a maladyof France, and there my rendeuous is quite cut off:Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour isCudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane toCut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, andthere Ile steale:And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres,And swore I got them in the Gallia warres.Enter.
Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke, andotherLords. At another, Queene Isabel, the King, the Duke ofBourgougne, andother French.
King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met;Vnto our brother France, and to our SisterHealth and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishesTo our most faire and Princely Cosine Katherine:And as a branch and member of this Royalty,By whom this great assembly is contriu'd,We do salute you Duke of Burgogne,And Princes French and Peeres health to you all
Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face,Most worthy brother England, fairely met,So are you Princes (English) euery one
Quee. So happy be the Issue brother IrelandOf this good day, and of this gracious meeting,As we are now glad to behold your eyes,Your eyes which hitherto haue borneIn them against the French that met them in their bent,The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes:The venome of such Lookes we fairely hopeHaue lost their qualitie, and that this dayShall change all griefes and quarrels into loue
Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare
Quee. You English Princes all, I doe salute you
Burg. My dutie to you both, on equall loue.Great Kings of France and England: that I haue labour'dWith all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuors,To bring your most Imperiall MaiestiesVnto this Barre, and Royall enterview;Your Mightinesse on both parts best can witnesse.Since then my Office hath so farre preuayl'd,That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye,You haue congreeted: let it not disgrace me,If I demand before this Royall view,What Rub, or what Impediment there is,Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace,Deare Nourse of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births,Should not in this best Garden of the World,Our fertile France, put vp her louely Visage?Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas'd,And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes,Corrupting in it owne fertilitie.Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart,Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd,Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre,Put forth disorder'd Twigs: her fallow Leas,The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary,Doth root vpon; while that the Culter rusts,That should deracinate such Sauagery:The euen Meade, that erst brought sweetly forthThe freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and greene Clouer,Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke;Conceiues by idlenesse, and nothing teemes,But hatefull Docks, rough Thistles, Keksyes, Burres,Loosing both beautie and vtilitie;And all our Vineyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges,Defectiue in their natures, grow to wildnesse.Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children,Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time,The Sciences that should become our Countrey;But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus'd Attyre,And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall.Which to reduce into our former fauour,You are assembled: and my speech entreats,That I may know the Let, why gentle PeaceShould not expell these inconueniences,And blesse vs with her former qualities
Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,Whose want giues growth to th' imperfectionsWhich you haue cited; you must buy that PeaceWith full accord to all our iust demands,Whose Tenures and particular effectsYou haue enschedul'd briefely in your hands
Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as yetThere is no Answer made
Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before so vrg'd,Lyes in his Answer
France. I haue but with a curselarie eyeO're-glanc't the Articles: Pleaseth your GraceTo appoint some of your Councell presentlyTo sit with vs once more, with better heedTo re-suruey them; we will suddenlyPasse our accept and peremptorie Answer
England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter,And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Gloucester,Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King,And take with you free power, to ratifie,Augment, or alter, as your Wisdomes bestShall see aduantageable for our Dignitie,Any thing in or out of our Demands,And wee'le consigne thereto. Will you, faire Sister,Goe with the Princes, or stay here with vs?Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them:Happily a Womans Voyce may doe some good,When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be stood on
England. Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs,She is our capitall Demand, compris'dWithin the fore-ranke of our Articles
Quee. She hath good leaue.
Exeunt. omnes.
Manet King and Katherine
King. Faire Katherine, and most faire,Will you vouchsafe to teach a Souldier tearmes,Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare,And pleade his Loue-suit to her gentle heart
Kath. Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speakeyour England
King. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you confesse it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you like me, Kate? Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me
King. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like anAngell
Kath. Que dit il que Ie suis semblable a les Anges?Lady. Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit il
King. I said so, deare Katherine, and I must not blushto affirme it
Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein detromperies
King. What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues ofmen are full of deceits?Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits:dat is de Princesse
King. The Princesse is the better English-woman: yfaith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderstanding, I am glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou could'st, thou would'st finde me such a plaine King, that thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther, then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine: how say you, Lady? Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well
King. Marry, if you would put me to Verses, or to Dance for your sake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one I haue neither words nor measure; and for the other, I haue no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape-frogge, or by vawting into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe; vnder the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my Loue, or bound my Horse for her fauours, I could lay on like a Butcher, and sit like a Iack an Apes, neuer off. But before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaspe out my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in protestation; onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vse till vrg'd, nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canst loue a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-burning? that neuer lookes in his Glasse, for loue of any thing he sees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I speake to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canst loue me for this, take me? if not? to say to thee that I shall dye, is true; but for thy loue, by the L[ord]. No: yet I loue thee too. And while thou liu'st, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and vncoyned Constancie, for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to wooe in other places: for these fellowes of infinit tongue, that can ryme themselues into Ladyes fauours, they doe alwayes reason themselues out againe. What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King. And what say'st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire, and fairely, I pray thee
Kath. Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of Fraunce? King. No, it is not possible you should loue the Enemie of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine: and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours is France, and you are mine
Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat
King. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am sure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife about her Husbands Necke, hardly to be shooke off; Ie quand sur le possession de Fraunce, & quand vous aues le possession de moy. (Let mee see, what then? Saint Dennis bee my speede) Donc vostre est Fraunce, & vous estes mienne. It is as easie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me
Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, le Francois ques vous parleis, il & melieus que l' Anglois le quel Ie parle
King. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of my Tongue, and I thine, most truely falsely, must needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, doo'st thou vnderstand thus much English? Canst thou loue mee? Kath. I cannot tell
King. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile aske them. Come, I know thou louest me: and at night, when you come into your Closet, you'le question this Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her disprayse those parts in me, that you loue with your heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather gentle Princesse, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou beest mine, Kate, as I haue a sauing Faith within me tells me thou shalt; I get thee with skambling, and thou must therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder: Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English, that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by the Beard. Shall wee not? what say'st thou, my faire Flower-de-Luce
Kate. I doe not know dat
King. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: doe but now promise Kate, you will endeauour for your French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie, take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How answer you. La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trescher & deuin deesse
Kath. Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce
King. Now fye vpon my false French: by mine Honor in true English, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare not sweare thou louest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me, that thou doo'st; notwithstanding the poore and vntempering effect of my Visage. Now beshrew my Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more spoyle vpon my Face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt weare me, if thou weare me, better and better: and therefore tell me, most faire Katherine, will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blushes, auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine, breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou haue me? Kath. Dat is as it shall please de Roy mon pere
King. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate
Kath. Den it sall also content me
King. Vpon that I kisse your Hand, and I call you myQueene
Kath. Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le main d' une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse moy. Ie vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur
King. Then I will kisse your Lippes, Kate
Kath. Les Dames & Damoisels pour estre baisee deuantleur nopcese il net pas le costume de Fraunce
King. Madame, my Interpreter, what sayes shee?Lady. Dat it is not be de fashon pour le Ladies ofFraunce; I cannot tell wat is buisse en Anglish
King. To kisse
Lady. Your Maiestee entendre bettre que moy
King. It is not a fashion for the Maids in Fraunce tokisse before they are marryed, would she say?Lady. Ouy verayment
King. O Kate, nice Customes cursie to great Kings. Deare Kate, you and I cannot bee confin'd within the weake Lyst of a Countreyes fashion: wee are the makers of Manners, Kate; and the libertie that followes our Places, stoppes the mouth of all finde-faults, as I will doe yours, for vpholding the nice fashion of your Countrey, in denying me a Kisse: therefore patiently, and yeelding. You haue Witch-craft in your Lippes, Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of them, then in the Tongues of the French Councell; and they should sooner perswade Harry of England, then a generall Petition of Monarchs. Heere comes your Father. Enter the French Power, and the English Lords.
Burg. God saue your Maiestie, my Royall Cousin,teach you our Princesse English?King. I would haue her learne, my faire Cousin, howperfectly I loue her, and that is good English
Burg. Is shee not apt? King. Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condition is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyce nor the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot so coniure vp the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true likenesse
Burg. Pardon the franknesse of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would coniure in her, you must make a Circle: if coniure vp Loue in her in his true likenesse, hee must appeare naked, and blinde. Can you blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd ouer with the Virgin Crimson of Modestie, if shee deny the apparance of a naked blinde Boy in her naked seeing selfe? It were (my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to consigne to
King. Yet they doe winke and yeeld, as Loue is blindand enforces
Burg. They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they seenot what they doe
King. Then good my Lord, teach your Cousin toconsent winking
Burg. I will winke on her to consent, my Lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for Maides well Summer'd, and warme kept, are like Flyes at Bartholomew-tyde, blinde, though they haue their eyes, and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on
King. This Morall tyes me ouer to Time, and a hot Summer; and so I shall catch the Flye, your Cousin, in the latter end, and she must be blinde to
Burg. As Loue is my Lord, before it loues
King. It is so: and you may, some of you, thankeLoue for my blindnesse, who cannot see many a faireFrench Citie for one faire French Maid that stands in myway
French King. Yes my Lord, you see them perspectiuely: the Cities turn'd into a Maid; for they are all gyrdled with Maiden Walls, that Warre hath entred
England. Shall Kate be my Wife?France. So please you
England. I am content, so the Maiden Cities you talke of, may wait on her: so the Maid that stood in the way for my Wish, shall shew me the way to my Will
France. Wee haue consented to all tearmes of reason
England. Is't so, my Lords of England?West. The King hath graunted euery Article:His Daughter first; and in sequele, all,According to their firme proposed natures
Exet. Onely he hath not yet subscribed this: Where your Maiestie demands, That the King of France hauing any occasion to write for matter of Graunt, shall name your Highnesse in this forme, and with this addition, in French: Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre Heretere de Fraunce: and thus in Latine; Praeclarissimus Filius noster Henricus Rex Anglię & Heres Franciae
France. Nor this I haue not Brother so deny'd,But your request shall make me let it passe
England. I pray you then, in loue and deare allyance,Let that one Article ranke with the rest,And thereupon giue me your Daughter
France. Take her faire Sonne, and from her blood rayse vpIssue to me, that the contending KingdomesOf France and England, whose very shoares looke pale,With enuy of each others happinesse,May cease their hatred; and this deare ConiunctionPlant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accordIn their sweet Bosomes: that neuer Warre aduanceHis bleeding Sword 'twixt England and faire France
Lords. Amen
King. Now welcome Kate: and beare me witnesse all,That here I kisse her as my Soueraigne Queene.
Flourish.
Quee. God, the best maker of all Marriages,Combine your hearts in one, your Realmes in one:As Man and Wife being two, are one in loue,So be there 'twixt your Kingdomes such a Spousall,That neuer may ill Office, or fell Iealousie,Which troubles oft the Bed of blessed Marriage,Thrust in betweene the Paction of these Kingdomes,To make diuorce of their incorporate League:That English may as French, French Englishmen,Receiue each other. God speake this Amen
All. Amen
King. Prepare we for our Marriage: on which day,My Lord of Burgundy wee'le take your OathAnd all the Peeres, for suretie of our Leagues.Then shall I sweare to Kate, and you to me,And may our Oathes well kept and prosp'rous be.
Senet. Exeunt.
Enter Chorus.
Thus farre with rough, and all-vnable Pen,Our bending Author hath pursu'd the Story,In little roome confining mightie men,Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.Small time: but in that small, most greatly liuedThis Starre of England. Fortune made his Sword;By which, the Worlds best Garden he atchieued:And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord.Henry the Sixt, in Infant Bands crown'd KingOf France and England, did this King succeed:Whose State so many had the managing,That they lost France, and made his England bleed:Which oft our Stage hath showne; and for their sake,In your faire minds let this acceptance take.
FINIS. The Life of Henry the Fift.
The first Part of Henry the Sixt
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Dead March.
Enter the Funerall of King Henry the Fift, attended on by the DukeofBedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloster, Protector; theDuke ofExeter Warwicke, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke ofSomerset.
Bedford. Hung be y heauens with black, yield day to night;Comets importing change of Times and States,Brandish your crystall Tresses in the Skie,And with them scourge the bad reuolting Stars,That haue consented vnto Henries death:King Henry the Fift, too famous to liue long,England ne're lost a King of so much worth
Glost. England ne're had a King vntill his time:Vertue he had, deseruing to command,His brandisht Sword did blinde men with his beames,His Armes spred wider then a Dragons Wings:His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathfull fire,More dazled and droue back his Enemies,Then mid-day Sunne, fierce bent against their faces.What should I say? his Deeds exceed all speech:He ne're lift vp his Hand, but conquered
Exe. We mourne in black, why mourn we not in blood?Henry is dead, and neuer shall reuiue:Vpon a Woodden Coffin we attend;And Deaths dishonourable Victorie,We with our stately presence glorifie,Like Captiues bound to a Triumphant Carre.What? shall we curse the Planets of Mishap,That plotted thus our Glories ouerthrow?Or shall we thinke the subtile-witted French,Coniurers and Sorcerers, that afraid of him,By Magick Verses haue contriu'd his end
Winch. He was a King, blest of the King of Kings.Vnto the French, the dreadfull Iudgement-DaySo dreadfull will not be, as was his sight.The Battailes of the Lord of Hosts he fought:The Churches Prayers made him so prosperous
Glost. The Church? where is it?Had not Church-men pray'd,His thred of Life had not so soone decay'd.None doe you like, but an effeminate Prince,Whom like a Schoole-boy you may ouer-awe
Winch. Gloster, what ere we like, thou art Protector,And lookest to command the Prince and Realme.Thy Wife is prowd, she holdeth thee in awe,More then God or Religious Church-men may
Glost. Name not Religion, for thou lou'st the Flesh,And ne're throughout the yeere to Church thou go'st,Except it be to pray against thy foes
Bed. Cease, cease these Iarres, & rest your minds in peace:Let's to the Altar: Heralds wayt on vs;In stead of Gold, wee'le offer vp our Armes,Since Armes auayle not, now that Henry's dead,Posteritie await for wretched yeeres,When at their Mothers moistned eyes, Babes shall suck,Our Ile be made a Nourish of salt Teares,And none but Women left to wayle the dead.Henry the Fift, thy Ghost I inuocate:Prosper this Realme, keepe it from Ciuill Broyles,Combat with aduerse Planets in the Heauens;A farre more glorious Starre thy Soule will make,Then Iulius Cęsar, or bright-Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My honourable Lords, health to you all:Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,Of losse, of slaughter, and discomfiture:Guyen, Champaigne, Rheimes, Orleance,Paris Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost
Bedf. What say'st thou man, before dead Henry's Coarse?Speake softly, or the losse of those great TownesWill make him burst his Lead, and rise from death
Glost. Is Paris lost? is Roan yeelded vp?If Henry were recall'd to life againe,These news would cause him once more yeeld the Ghost
Exe. How were they lost? what trecherie was vs'd?Mess. No trecherie, but want of Men and Money.Amongst the Souldiers this is muttered,That here you maintaine seuerall Factions:And whil'st a Field should be dispatcht and fought,You are disputing of your Generals.One would haue lingring Warres, with little cost;Another would flye swift, but wanteth Wings:A third thinkes, without expence at all,By guilefull faire words, Peace may be obtayn'd.Awake, awake, English Nobilitie,Let not slouth dimme your Honors, new begot;Cropt are the Flower-de-Luces in your ArmesOf Englands Coat, one halfe is cut away
Exe. Were our Teares wanting to this Funerall,These Tidings would call forth her flowing Tides
Bedf. Me they concerne, Regent I am of France:Giue me my steeled Coat, Ile fight for France.Away with these disgracefull wayling Robes;Wounds will I lend the French, in stead of Eyes,To weepe their intermissiue Miseries.Enter to them another Messenger.
Mess. Lords view these Letters, full of bad mischance.France is reuolted from the English quite,Except some petty Townes, of no import.The Dolphin Charles is crowned King in Rheimes:The Bastard of Orleance with him is ioyn'd:Reynold, Duke of Aniou, doth take his part,The Duke of Alanson flyeth to his side.Enter.
Exe. The Dolphin crown'd King? all flye to him?O whither shall we flye from this reproach?Glost. We will not flye, but to our enemies throats.Bedford, if thou be slacke, Ile fight it out
Bed. Gloster, why doubtst thou of my forwardnesse?An Army haue I muster'd in my thoughts,Wherewith already France is ouer-run.Enter another Messenger.
Mes. My gracious Lords, to adde to your laments,Wherewith you now bedew King Henries hearse,I must informe you of a dismall fight,Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot, and the French
Win. What? wherein Talbot ouercame, is't so?3.Mes. O no: wherein Lord Talbot was o'rethrown:The circumstance Ile tell you more at large.The tenth of August last, this dreadfull Lord,Retyring from the Siege of Orleance,Hauing full scarce six thousand in his troupe,By three and twentie thousand of the FrenchWas round incompassed, and set vpon:No leysure had he to enranke his men.He wanted Pikes to set before his Archers:In stead whereof, sharpe Stakes pluckt out of HedgesThey pitched in the ground confusedly,To keepe the Horsemen off, from breaking in.More then three houres the fight continued:Where valiant Talbot, aboue humane thought,Enacted wonders with his Sword and Lance.Hundreds he sent to Hell, and none durst stand him:Here, there, and euery where enrag'd, he slew.The French exclaym'd, the Deuill was in Armes,All the whole Army stood agaz'd on him.His Souldiers spying his vndaunted Spirit,A Talbot, a Talbot, cry'd out amaine,And rusht into the Bowels of the Battaile.Here had the Conquest fully been seal'd vp,If Sir Iohn Falstaffe had not play'd the Coward.He being in the Vauward, plac't behinde,With purpose to relieue and follow them,Cowardly fled, not hauing struck one stroake.Hence grew the generall wrack and massacre:Enclosed were they with their Enemies.A base Wallon, to win the Dolphins grace,Thrust Talbot with a Speare into the Back,Whom all France, with their chiefe assembled strength,Durst not presume to looke once in the face
Bedf. Is Talbot slaine then? I will slay my selfe,For liuing idly here, in pompe and ease,Whil'st such a worthy Leader, wanting ayd,Vnto his dastard foe-men is betray'd
3.Mess. O no, he liues, but is tooke Prisoner, And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford: Most of the rest slaughter'd, or tooke likewise
Bedf. His Ransome there is none but I shall pay.Ile hale the Dolphin headlong from his Throne,His Crowne shall be the Ransome of my friend:Foure of their Lords Ile change for one of ours.Farwell my Masters, to my Taske will I,Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,To keepe our great Saint Georges Feast withall.Ten thousand Souldiers with me I will take,Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake
3.Mess. So you had need, for Orleance is besieg'd,The English Army is growne weake and faint:The Earle of Salisbury craueth supply,And hardly keepes his men from mutinie,Since they so few, watch such a multitude
Exe. Remember Lords your Oathes to Henry sworne:Eyther to quell the Dolphin vtterly,Or bring him in obedience to your yoake
Bedf. I doe remember it, and here take my leaue,To goe about my preparation.
Exit Bedford.
Glost. Ile to the Tower with all the hast I can,To view th' Artillerie and Munition,And then I will proclayme young Henry King.
Exit Gloster.
Exe. To Eltam will I, where the young King is,Being ordayn'd his speciall Gouernor,And for his safetie there Ile best deuise.Enter.
Winch. Each hath his Place and Function to attend:I am left out; for me nothing remaines:But long I will not be Iack out of Office.The King from Eltam I intend to send,And sit at chiefest Sterne of publique Weale.Enter.
Sound a Flourish.
Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir, marching with Drum andSouldiers.
Charles. Mars his true mouing, euen as in the Heauens,So in the Earth, to this day is not knowne.Late did he shine vpon the English side:Now we are Victors, vpon vs he smiles.What Townes of any moment, but we haue?At pleasure here we lye, neere Orleance:Otherwhiles, the famisht English, like pale Ghosts,Faintly besiege vs one houre in a moneth
Alan. They want their Porredge, & their fat Bul Beeues:Eyther they must be dyeted like Mules,And haue their Prouender ty'd to their mouthes,Or pitteous they will looke, like drowned Mice
Reigneir. Let's rayse the Siege: why liue we idly here?Talbot is taken, whom we wont to feare:Remayneth none but mad-brayn'd Salisbury,And he may well in fretting spend his gall,Nor men nor Money hath he to make Warre
Charles. Sound, sound Alarum, we will rush on them.Now for the honour of the forlorne French:Him I forgiue my death, that killeth me,When he sees me goe back one foot, or flye.
Exeunt.
Here Alarum, they are beaten back by the English, with great losse.
Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir.
Charles. Who euer saw the like? what men haue I?Dogges, Cowards, Dastards: I would ne're haue fled,But that they left me 'midst my Enemies
Reigneir. Salisbury is a desperate Homicide,He fighteth as one weary of his life:The other Lords, like Lyons wanting foode,Doe rush vpon vs as their hungry prey
Alanson. Froysard, a Countreyman of ours, records,England all Oliuers and Rowlands breed,During the time Edward the third did raigne:More truly now may this be verified;For none but Samsons and GoliassesIt sendeth forth to skirmish: one to tenne?Leane raw-bon'd Rascals, who would e'er suppose,They had such courage and audacitie?Charles. Let's leaue this Towne,For they are hayre-brayn'd Slaues,And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:Of old I know them; rather with their TeethThe Walls they'le teare downe, then forsake the Siege
Reigneir. I thinke by some odde Gimmors or DeuiceTheir Armes are set, like Clocks, still to strike on;Else ne're could they hold out so as they doe:By my consent, wee'le euen let them alone
Alanson. Be it so.Enter the Bastard of Orleance.
Bastard. Where's the Prince Dolphin? I haue newesfor him