Paris. A Room of State. |
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Enter KING HENRY, GLOUCESTER, EXETER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, WARWICK, TALBOT, the Governor of Paris, and Others. |
Glo. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head. |
Win. God save King Henry, of that name the sixth. |
Glo. 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 shally ye do, so help you righteous God! [Exeunt Governor and his Train. |
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Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE. |
Fast. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, |
To haste unto your coronation, |
A letter was deliver'd to my hands, |
Writ to your Grace from the Duke of Burgundy. |
Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! |
I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next, |
To tear the garter from thy craven's leg; [Plucking it off. |
Which I have done, because unworthily |
Thou wast installed 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 surpris'd 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? |
Glo. To say the truth, this fact was infamous |
And ill beseeming any common man, |
Much more a knight, a captain and a leader. |
Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, 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 furnish'd 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. |
K. Hen. 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 FASTOLFE. |
And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter |
Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy. |
Glo. [Viewing superscription.] What means his Grace, that he hath chang'd 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, |
Mov'd with compassion of my country's wrack, |
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 dissembling guile? |
K. Hen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? |
Glo. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. |
K. Hen. Is that the worst this letter doth contain? |
Glo. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes. |
K. Hen. 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? |
Tal. Content, my liege! Yes: but that I am prevented, |
I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. |
K. Hen. 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. |
Tal. I go, my lord; in heart desiring still |
You may behold confusion of your foes. [Exit. |
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Enter VERNON and BASSET. |
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. Hen. 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. |
Bas. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. |
K. Hen. What is that wrong whereof you both complain? |
First let me know, and then I'll answer you. |
Bas. 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 |
Argu'd 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. |
Ver. 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 provok'd by him; |
And he first took exceptions at this badge, |
Pronouncing, that the paleness of this flower |
Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart. |
York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? |
Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, |
Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. |
K. Hen. Good Lord! what madness rules in brain-sick 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. |
York. Let this dissension first be tried by fight, |
And then your highness shall command a peace. |
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; |
Betwixt ourselves let us decide it, then. |
York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. |
Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first. |
Bas. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord. |
Glo. Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife! |
And perish ye, with your audacious prate! |
Presumptuous vassals! are you not asham'd, |
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. |
Exe. It grieves his highness: good my lords, be friends. |
K. Hen. 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 wav'ring nation. |
If they perceive dissension in our looks, |
And that within ourselves we disagree, |
How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd |
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 |
Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of France! |
O! think upon the conquest of my father, |
My tender years, and let us not forego |
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; [Putting on a red rose. |
That any one 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 crown'd. |
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, 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. An if I wist he did,—But let it rest; |
Other affairs must now be managed. [Exeunt YORK, WARWICK, and VERNON. |
Exe. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; |
For had the passions of thy heart burst out, |
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there |
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils, |
Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd. |
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 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. |
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