The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

My forces and my power of men are yours.

  So farewell, Talbot. I’ll no longer trust thee.

  JOAN

  Done like a Frenchman—⌈aside⌉ turn and turn again.

  CHARLES

  Welcome, brave Duke. Thy friendship makes us fresh.

  BASTARD

  And doth beget new courage in our breasts.

  ALENÇON

  Pucelle hath bravely played her part in this,

  And doth deserve a coronet of gold.

  CHARLES

  Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,

  And seek how we may prejudice the foe. Exeunt

  3.8 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter King Henry, the Duke of Gloucester, the Bishop of Winchester, the Duke of Exeter; Richard Duke of York, the Earl of Warwick, and Vernon ⌈with white roses⌉; the Earl of Suffolk, the Duke of Somerset, and Basset ⌈with red roses⌉. To them, with his soldiers, enter Lord Talbot

  TALBOT

  My gracious prince and honourable peers,

  Hearing of your arrival in this realm

  I have a while 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,

  Beside 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⌉

  KING HENRY

  Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,

  That hath so long been resident in France?

  GLOUCESTER

  Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.

  KING HENRY (to Talbot)

  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,

  Talbot rises

  and for these good deserts

  We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;

  And in our coronation take your place.

  Sennet. Exeunt all but Vernon and Basset

  VERNON

  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’st thou maintain the former words thou spak’st?

  BASSET

  Yes, sir, as well as you dare patronage

  The envious barking of your saucy tongue

  Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

  VERNON

  Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.

  BASSET

  Why, what is he?—as good a man as York.

  VERNON

  Hark ye, not so. In witness, take ye that.

  Vernon strikes him

  BASSET

  Villain, thou know‘st the law of arms is such

  That whoso draws a sword ’tis present death,

  Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.

  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.

  VERNON

  Well, miscreant, I’ll be there as soon as you,

  And after meet you sooner than you would.

  Exeunt

  4.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter King Henry, the Duke of Gloucester, the Bishop of Winchester, the Duke of Exeter,; Richard Duke of York, and the Earl of Warwick with white roses; the Earl of Suffolk and the Duke of Somerset with red roses; Lord Talbot, and the Governor of Paris

  GLOUCESTER

  Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head.

  WINCHESTER

  God save King Henry, of that name the sixth I

  Winchester crowns the King

  GLOUCESTER

  Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath

  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 ye do, so help you righteous God.

  Enter Sir John Fastolf with a letter

  FASTOLF

  My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais

  To haste unto your coronation

  A letter was delivered to my hands,

  ⌈He presents the letters⌉

  Writ to your grace from th’ Duke of Burgundy.

  TALBOT

  Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!

  I vowed, base knight, when I did meet thee next,

  To tear the Garter from thy craven’s leg,

  He tears 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 beside

  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?

  GLOUCESTER

  To say the truth, this fact was infamous

  And ill beseeming any common man,

  Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.

  TALBOT

  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 honourable 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.

  KING HENRY (to Fastolf)

  Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear’st thy doom.

  Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight.

  Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death.

  Exit Fastolf

  And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter

  Sent from our uncle, Duke of Burgundy.

  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? ‘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?

  KING HENRY
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  What? Doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?

  GLOUCESTER

  He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.

  KING HENRY

  Is that the worst this letter doth contain?

  GLOUCESTER

  It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.

  KING HENRY

  Why then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him

  And give him chastisement for this abuse.

  (To Talbot) How say you, my lord? Are you not

  content?

  TALBOT

  Content, my liege? Yes. But that I am prevented,

  I should have begged I might have been employed.

  KING HENRY

  Then gather strength and march unto him straight.

  Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason,

  And what offence it is to flout his friends.

  TALBOT

  I go, my lord, in heart desiring still

  You may behold confusion of your foes. Exit

  Enter Vernon wearing a white rose, and Basset wearing a red rose

  VERNON (to King Henry)

  Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.

  BASSET (to King Henry)

  And me, my lord; grant me the combat, too.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK (to King Henry, pointing to Vernon)

  This is my servant; hear him, noble Prince.

  SOMERSET (to King Henry, pointing to Basset)

  And this is mine, sweet Henry; favour him.

  KING 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?

  VERNON

  With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.

  BASSET

  And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.

  KING HENRY

  What is that wrong whereof you both complain?

  First let me know, and then I’ll answer you.

  BASSET

  Crossing the sea from England into France,

  This fellow here with envious carping tongue

  Upbraided me about the rose I wear,

  Saying the sanguine colour 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 defence of my lord’s worthiness,

  I crave the benefit of law of arms.

  VERNON

  And that is my petition, noble lord;

  For though he seem with forged 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.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

  Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?

  SOMERSET

  Your private grudge, my lord of York, will out,

  Though ne’er so cunningly you smother it.

  KING HENRY

  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.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

  Let this dissension first be tried by fight,

  And then your highness shall command a peace.

  SOMERSET

  The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;

  Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

  There is my pledge. Accept it, Somerset.

  VERNON (to King Henry)

  Nay, let it rest where it began at first.

  BASSET (to King Henry)

  Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.

  GLOUCESTER

  Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife,

  And perish ye 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.

  EXETER

  It grieves his highness. Good my lords, be friends.

  KING HENRY

  Come hither, you that would 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 dissension in our looks,

  And that within ourselves we disagree,

  How will their grudging stomachs be provoked

  To wilful disobedience, and rebel!

  Beside, 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.

  I see no reason, if I wear this rose,

  He takes a red rose

  That anyone should therefore be suspicious

  I more incline to Somerset than York.

  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 Calais,

  From thence to England, where I hope ere long

  To be presented by your victories

  With Charles, Alençon, and that traitorous rout.

  Flourish. Exeunt all but York, Warwick,

  Vernon, and Exeter

  WARWICK

  My lord of York, I promise you, the King

  Prettily, methought, did play the orator.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

  And so he did; but yet I like it not

  In that he wears the badge of Somerset.

  WARWICK

  Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not.

  I dare presume, sweet Prince, he thought no harm.

  RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

  An if I wist he did—but let it rest.

  Other affairs must now be managed.

  Exeunt all but Exeter

  EXETER

  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 h
owsoe‘er, no simple man that sees

  This jarring discord of nobility,

  This shouldering of each other in the court,

  This factious bandying of their favourites,

  But that it doth presage some ill event.

  ‘Tis much when sceptres are in children’s hands,

  But more when envy breeds unkind division:

  There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. Exit

  4.2 Enter Lord Talbot with a trumpeter and drummer and soldiers before Bordeaux

  TALBOT

  Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter.

  Summon their general unto the wall.

  The trumpeter sounds a parley. Enter French General, aloft

  English John Talbot, captain, 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—

  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.

  GENERAL

  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 fire 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,