And then depart to Paris to the King;

For there young Henry with his Nobles lies.'
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 fee his exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A braver foldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never fway in court.
But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that's the end of human mifery.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, Alanfon, and Joan la Pucelle.

Pucel. Difmay not, Princes, at this accident,

Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered.
Care is no cure, but rather corrofive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while,
And, like a peacock, fweep along his tail;
We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
If Dauphin and the reft will be but rul'd.

Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence.
One fudden foil fhall never breed distruft.

Baft. Search out thy wit for fecret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
Alan. We'll fet thy ftatue in fome hollow place,
And have thee reverence'd like a blessed faint.
Employ thee then, fweet virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be, this doth Joan devife:
By fair perfuafions mix'd with fugar'd words,
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy

To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Dau. Ay, marry, fweeting, if we cou'd do that,
France were no place for Henry's warriors;

Nor fhall that nation boast it fo with us,
But be extirped from our provinces.

Alan. For ever should they be expuls'd from France,

And not have title of an earldom here.

Pucel. Your Honours shall perceive how I will work,

To

To bring this matter to the wished 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 Talbot with his colours spread, And all the troops of English after him. Now in the rereward comes the Duke and his :

[French march.

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.
Day. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy.-
Burg. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
Pucel. The Princely Charles of France, thy country

man.

Burg. What fay'ft thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.

Dau. Speak, Pucelle, and inchant him with thy words. Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid fpeak to thee.

Burg. Speak on, but be not over-tedious. Pucel. Look on thy country, look on fertile France! And fee the cities and the towns-deface'd

By wafting ruin of the cruel foe.

As looks the mother on her lovely babe,
When death doth clofe his tender dying eyes;
See, fee the pining malady of France,

Behold the wounds, the most unnatʼral wounds,
Which thou thyfelf haft given her woful breast.
Oh, turn thy edged fword another way;
Strike thofe 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 ftained fpots.

Burg. Either the hath bewitch'd me with her words, Or nature makes me fuddenly relent.

Pucel. Befides,all French and France exclaim on thee, Doubting thy birth, and lawful progeny.

Whom join' thou with, but with a lordly nation

That will not trust thee but for profit's fake?
When Talbot hath fet footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that inftrument of ill;
Who then but English Henry will be Lord,
And thou be thruft out like a fugitive?
Call we to mind and mark but this for proof;
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was not he in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They fet him free without his ranfom paid,
In fpight of Burgundy and all his friends.
See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen,
And join'ft with them will be thy flaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wand'ring Lord;
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Burg. I'm vanquifhd. These haughty words of her's
Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-fhot,
And made me almoft yield upon my knees.
Forgive me, country and fweet countrymen ;
And, Lords, accept this hearty kind embrace.
My forces and my pow'r of men are yours.
So farewel, Talbot, I'll no longer trust thee.

Pucel. Done like a Frenchmen: turn, and turn again *.

Dan. Welcome, brave Duke! they friendship makes us fresh.

Baft. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Alan. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deferve a coronet of gold.

Dau. Now, let us on, my Lords, and join our powers, And feek how we may prejudice the foe.

SCENE IX.

[Exeunt.

Changes to Paris.

Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, Winchefter, York, Suf

folk, Somerfet, Warwick, Exeter, &c. To them Tal

bot, with his Soldiers.

Tal. My gracious Prince, and honourable Peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm,

I have a while giv'n truce unto my wars,

* This feems to be an offering of the poet to his royal mistress's refentment, for Henry IV.'s laft great turn in religion, in the year

159'

VOL. IV.

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To do my duty to my fovereign.

In fign whereof, this arm (that hath reclaim'd
To your obedience fifty fortreffes,

Twelve cities, and fev'n walled towns of ftrength,
Befide five hundred prifoners of esteem)

Lets fall the fword before your Highnefs' feet;
And, with fubmiffive loyalty of heart,
Afcribes the glory of his conqueft got,
First to my God, and next unto your Grace.

K.Henry. Is this the fam'd Lord Talbot,uncle Glo'ster,
That hath fo long been refident in France ?
Glou. Yes, if it pleafe your Majefty, my Liege.

K. Henry. Welcome, brave Captain, and victorious When I was young, (as yet I am not old),

[Lord.

I do remember how my father faid,
A ftouter champion never handled fword.
Long fince we were refolved of your truth,
Your faithful fervice and your toil in war;
Yet never have you tafted your reward,
Or been reguerdon'd with fo much as thanks,
Because till now we never faw your face:
Therefore ftand up, and, for thefe good deferts,
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury,
And in our coronation take your place.

Manent Vernon and Baffet.

[Exeunt,

Ver. Now, Sir, to you that were fo hot at fea, Difgracing of these colours that I wear

In honour of my Noble Lord of York;

Dar'it thou maintain the former words thou fpak'st ?
Baf. Yes, Sir, as well as you dare patronage
The envious barking of your faucy tongue
Against my Lord the Duke of Somerset.

Ver. Sirrah, thy Lord I honour as he is.
Baf. Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
Ver. Hark ye; not fo: in witnefs take you that.
[Strikes bim,

Baf. Villain, thou know'ft the law of arms is fuch, That whofo draws a fword in th' prefence, 't's death, Or elfe this blow fhould broach thy dearest blood. But I'll unto his Majefty, and crave

I may have liberty to venge this wrong,

When

When thou fhalt fee I'll meet thee to thy coft.

Ver. Well, mifereant, I'll be there as foon as you, And after meet you fooner than you would. [Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Paris.

Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, Winchefter, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, and Gevernor of Paris.

Glou.

L

Ord Bishop, fet the crown upon his head. Win. God fave King Henry, of that name the Sixth !

Glou. Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath, That you elect no other King but him;

Efteem none friends but fuch as are his friends,
And none your foes but fuch as fhall pretend
Malicious practices against his state.

This fhall ye do, fo 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!
I vow'd, bafe Knight, when I did meet thee next,
To tear the garter from thy craven leg,
Which I have done; because unworthily
Thou waft inftalled in that high degree.
Pardon me, Princely Henry, and the reft:
This daftard, at the battle of Poitiers,
When but in all I was fix thoufand strong,
And that the French were almoft ten to one,
Before we met, or that a stroke was given,
Like to a trufty 'fquire did run away.
In which affault we loft twelve hundred men;
My felf and divers gentlemen befide

Were there furpris'd, and taken prisoners.
Then judge, great Lords, if I have done amifs:
Or whether that fuch cowards ought to wear
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