Shakespeare's First Folio · William Shakespeare
THE ACTORS NAMES.
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 my Queene 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 deuant leur 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 of Fraunce; 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 to kisse 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.
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 vp Issue to me, that the contending Kingdomes Of France and England, whose very shoares looke pale, With enuy of each others happinesse, May cease their hatred; and this deare Coniunction Plant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accord In their sweet Bosomes: that neuer Warre aduance His 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 Oath And 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.
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 Armes Of 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.
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.
1.Warder. Who's there, that knocks so imperiously? Glost.1.Man. It is the Noble Duke of Gloster 2.Warder. Who ere he be, you may not be let in 1.Man. Villaines, answer you so the Lord Protector? 1.Warder. The Lord protect him, so we answer him, We doe no otherwise then wee are will'd Glost. Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? There's none Protector of the Realme, but I: Breake vp the Gates, Ile be your warrantize; Shall I be flowted thus by dunghill Groomes? Glosters men rush at the Tower Gates, and Wooduile the Lieutenant speakes within. Wooduile. What noyse is this? what Traytors haue wee here? Glost. Lieutenant, is it you whose voyce I heare? Open the Gates, here's Gloster that would enter Wooduile. Haue patience Noble Duke, I may not open, The Cardinall of Winchester forbids: From him I haue expresse commandement, That thou nor none of thine shall be let in Glost. Faint-hearted Wooduile, prizest him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchester, that haughtie Prelate, Whom Henry our late Soueraigne ne're could brooke? Thou art no friend to God, or to the King: Open the Gates, or Ile shut thee out shortly Seruingmen. Open the Gates vnto the Lord Protector, Or wee'le burst them open, if that you come not quickly. Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates, Winchester and his men in Tawney Coates.
Winchest. How now ambitious Vmpheir, what meanes this? Glost. Piel'd Priest, doo'st thou command me to be shut out? Winch. I doe, thou most vsurping Proditor, And not Protector of the King or Realme Glost. Stand back thou manifest Conspirator, Thou that contriued'st to murther our dead Lord, Thou that giu'st Whores Indulgences to sinne, Ile canuas thee in thy broad Cardinalls Hat, If thou proceed in this thy insolence Winch. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, To slay thy Brother Abel, if thou wilt Glost. I will not slay thee, but Ile driue thee back: Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Childs bearing Cloth, Ile vse, to carry thee out of this place Winch. Doe what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face Glost. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face? Draw men, for all this priuiledged place, Blew Coats to Tawny Coats. Priest, beware your Beard, I meane to tugge it, and to cuffe you soundly. Vnder my feet I stampe thy Cardinalls Hat: In spight of Pope, or dignities of Church, Here by the Cheekes Ile drag thee vp and downe Winch. Gloster, thou wilt answere this before the Pope Glost. Winchester Goose, I cry, a Rope, a Rope. Now beat them hence, why doe you let them stay? Thee Ile chase hence, thou Wolfe in Sheepes array. Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite.
Maior. Ile call for Clubs, if you will not away: This Cardinall's more haughtie then the Deuill Glost. Maior farewell: thou doo'st but what thou may'st Winch. Abhominable Gloster, guard thy Head, For I intend to haue it ere long. Exeunt. Maior. See the Coast clear'd, and then we will depart. Good God, these Nobles should such stomacks beare, I my selfe fight not once in fortie yeere. Exeunt. Enter the Master Gunner of Orleance, and his Boy. M.Gunner. Sirrha, thou know'st how Orleance is besieg'd, And how the English haue the Suburbs wonne Boy. Father I know, and oft haue shot at them, How e're vnfortunate, I miss'd my ayme M.Gunner. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd by me: Chiefe Master Gunner am I of this Towne, Something I must doe to procure me grace: The Princes espyals haue informed me, How the English, in the Suburbs close entrencht, Went through a secret Grate of Iron Barres, In yonder Tower, to ouer-peere the Citie, And thence discouer, how with most aduantage They may vex vs with Shot or with Assault. To intercept this inconuenience, A Peece of Ordnance 'gainst it I haue plac'd, And euen these three dayes haue I watcht, If I could see them. Now doe thou watch, For I can stay no longer. If thou spy'st any, runne and bring me word, And thou shalt finde me at the Gouernors. Enter.
Boy. Father, I warrant you, take you no care, Ile neuer trouble you, if I may spye them. Enter. Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the Turrets, with others. Salisb. Talbot, my life, my ioy, againe return'd? How wert thou handled, being Prisoner? Or by what meanes got's thou to be releas'd? Discourse I prethee on this Turrets top Talbot. The Earle of Bedford had a Prisoner, Call'd the braue Lord Ponton de Santrayle, For him was I exchang'd, and ransom'd. But with a baser man of Armes by farre, Once in contempt they would haue barter'd me: Which I disdaining, scorn'd, and craued death, Rather then I would be so pil'd esteem'd: In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd. But O, the trecherous Falstaffe wounds my heart, Whom with my bare fists I would execute, If I now had him brought into my power Salisb. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain'd Tal. With scoffes and scornes, and contumelious taunts, In open Market-place produc't they me, To be a publique spectacle to all: Here, sayd they, is the Terror of the French, The Scar-Crow that affrights our Children so. Then broke I from the Officers that led me, And with my nayles digg'd stones out of the ground, To hurle at the beholders of my shame. My grisly countenance made others flye, None durst come neere, for feare of suddaine death. In Iron Walls they deem'd me not secure: So great feare of my Name 'mongst them were spread, That they suppos'd I could rend Barres of Steele, And spurne in pieces Posts of Adamant. Wherefore a guard of chosen Shot I had, That walkt about me euery Minute while: And if I did but stirre out of my Bed, Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. Enter the Boy with a Linstock.
Talb. What chance is this, that suddenly hath crost vs? Speake Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speake: How far'st thou, Mirror of all Martiall men? One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheekes side struck off? Accursed Tower, accursed fatall Hand, That hath contriu'd this wofull Tragedie. In thirteene Battailes, Salisbury o'recame: Henry the Fift he first trayn'd to the Warres. Whil'st any Trumpe did sound, or Drum struck vp, His Sword did ne're leaue striking in the field. Yet liu'st thou Salisbury? though thy speech doth fayle, One Eye thou hast to looke to Heauen for grace. The Sunne with one Eye vieweth all the World. Heauen be thou gracious to none aliue, If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands. Beare hence his Body, I will helpe to bury it. Sir Thomas Gargraue, hast thou any life? Speake vnto Talbot, nay, looke vp to him. Salisbury cheare thy Spirit with this comfort, Thou shalt not dye whiles- He beckens with his hand, and smiles on me: As who should say, When I am dead and gone, Remember to auenge me on the French. Plantaginet I will, and like thee, Play on the Lute, beholding the Townes burne: Wretched shall France be onely in my Name. Here an Alarum, and it Thunders and Lightens. What stirre is this? what tumult's in the Heauens? Whence commeth this Alarum, and the noyse? Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My Lord, my Lord, the French haue gather'd head. The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Puzel ioyn'd, A holy Prophetesse, new risen vp, Is come with a great Power, to rayse the Siege. Here Salisbury lifteth himselfe vp, and groanes. Talb. Heare, heare, how dying Salisbury doth groane, It irkes his heart he cannot be reueng'd. Frenchmen, Ile be a Salisbury to you. Puzel or Pussel, Dolphin or Dog-fish, Your hearts Ile stampe out with my Horses heeles, And make a Quagmire of your mingled braines. Conuey me Salisbury into his Tent, And then wee'le try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. Alarum. Exeunt. Here an Alarum againe, and Talbot pursueth the Dolphin, and driueth him: Then enter Ioane de Puzel, driuing Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot. Talb. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? Our English Troupes retyre, I cannot stay them, A Woman clad in Armour chaseth them. Enter Puzel. Here, here shee comes. Ile haue a bowt with thee: Deuill, or Deuils Dam, Ile coniure thee: Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch, And straightway giue thy Soule to him thou seru'st Puzel. Come, come, 'tis onely I that must disgrace thee. Here they fight. Talb. Heauens, can you suffer Hell so to preuayle? My brest Ile burst with straining of my courage, And from my shoulders crack my Armes asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded Strumpet.
They fight againe. Puzel. Talbot farwell, thy houre is not yet come, I must goe Victuall Orleance forthwith: A short Alarum: then enter the Towne with Souldiers. O're-take me if thou canst, I scorne thy strength. Goe, goe, cheare vp thy hungry-starued men, Helpe Salisbury to make his Testament, This Day is ours, as many more shall be. Enter. Talb. My thoughts are whirled like a Potters Wheele, I know not where I am, nor what I doe: A Witch by feare, not force, like Hannibal, Driues back our troupes, and conquers as she lists: So Bees with smoake, and Doues with noysome stench, Are from their Hyues and Houses driuen away. They call'd vs, for our fiercenesse, English Dogges, Now like to Whelpes, we crying runne away. A short Alarum. Hearke Countreymen, eyther renew the fight, Or teare the Lyons out of Englands Coat; Renounce your Soyle, giue Sheepe in Lyons stead: Sheepe run not halfe so trecherous from the Wolfe, Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard, As you flye from your oft-subdued slaues. Alarum. Here another Skirmish. It will not be, retyre into your Trenches: You all consented vnto Salisburies death, For none would strike a stroake in his reuenge. Puzel is entred into Orleance, In spight of vs, or ought that we could doe. O would I were to dye with Salisbury, The shame hereof, will make me hide my head.
Exit Talbot. Alarum, Retreat, Flourish. Enter on the Walls, Puzel, Dolphin, Reigneir, Alanson, and Souldiers. Puzel. Aduance our wauing Colours on the Walls, Rescu'd is Orleance from the English. Thus Ioane de Puzel hath perform'd her word Dolph. Diuinest Creature, Astrea's Daughter, How shall I honour thee for this successe? Thy promises are like Adonis Garden, That one day bloom'd, and fruitfull were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetesse, Recouer'd is the Towne of Orleance, More blessed hap did ne're befall our State Reigneir. Why ring not out the Bells alowd, Throughout the Towne? Dolphin command the Citizens make Bonfires, And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the ioy that God hath giuen vs Alans. All France will be repleat with mirth and ioy, When they shall heare how we haue play'd the men Dolph. 'Tis Ioane, not we, by whom the day is wonne: For which, I will diuide my Crowne with her, And all the Priests and Fryers in my Realme, Shall in procession sing her endlesse prayse. A statelyer Pyramis to her Ile reare, Then Rhodophe's or Memphis euer was. In memorie of her, when she is dead, Her Ashes, in an Vrne more precious Then the rich-iewel'd Coffer of Darius, Transported, shall be at high Festiuals Before the Kings and Queenes of France. No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry, But Ioane de Puzel shall be France's Saint. Come in, and let vs Banquet Royally, After this Golden Day of Victorie.
Charl. Duke of Alanson, this was your default, That being Captaine of the Watch to Night, Did looke no better to that weightie Charge Alans. Had all your Quarters been as safely kept, As that whereof I had the gouernment, We had not beene thus shamefully surpriz'd Bast. Mine was secure Reig. And so was mine, my Lord Charl. And for my selfe, most part of all this Night Within her Quarter, and mine owne Precinct, I was imploy'd in passing to and fro, About relieuing of the Centinels. Then how, or which way, should they first breake in? Ioane. Question (my Lords) no further of the case, How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place, But weakely guarded, where the breach was made: And now there rests no other shift but this, To gather our Souldiors, scatter'd and disperc't, And lay new Platformes to endammage them. Exeunt. Alarum. Enter a Souldier, crying, a Talbot, a Talbot: they flye, leauing their Clothes behind. Sould. Ile be so bold to take what they haue left: The Cry of Talbot serues me for a Sword, For I haue loaden me with many Spoyles, Vsing no other Weapon but his Name. Enter. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundie. Bedf. The Day begins to breake, and Night is fled, Whose pitchy Mantle ouer-vayl'd the Earth. Here sound Retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
Retreat. Talb. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury, And here aduance it in the Market-Place, The middle Centure of this cursed Towne. Now haue I pay'd my Vow vnto his Soule: For euery drop of blood was drawne from him, There hath at least fiue Frenchmen dyed to night. And that hereafter Ages may behold What ruine happened in reuenge of him, Within their chiefest Temple Ile erect A Tombe, wherein his Corps shall be interr'd: Vpon the which, that euery one may reade, Shall be engrau'd the sacke of Orleance, The trecherous manner of his mournefull death, And what a terror he had beene to France. But Lords, in all our bloudy Massacre, I muse we met not with the Dolphins Grace, His new-come Champion, vertuous Ioane of Acre, Nor any of his false Confederates Bedf. 'Tis thought Lord Talbot, when the fight began, Rows'd on the sudden from their drowsie Beds, They did amongst the troupes of armed men, Leape o're the Walls for refuge in the field Burg. My selfe, as farre as I could well discerne, For smoake, and duskie vapours of the night, Am sure I scar'd the Dolphin and his Trull, When Arme in Arme they both came swiftly running, Like to a payre of louing Turtle-Doues, That could not liue asunder day or night. After that things are set in order here, Wee'le follow them with all the power we haue. Enter a Messenger.
Port. Madame, I will. Enter. Count. The Plot is layd, if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit, As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus death. Great is the rumour of this dreadfull Knight, And his atchieuements of no lesse account: Faine would mine eyes be witnesse with mine eares, To giue their censure of these rare reports. Enter Messenger and Talbot. Mess. Madame, according as your Ladyship desir'd, By Message crau'd, so is Lord Talbot come Count. And he is welcome: what? is this the man? Mess. Madame, it is Count. Is this the Scourge of France? Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad? That with his Name the Mothers still their Babes? I see Report is fabulous and false. I thought I should haue seene some Hercules, A second Hector, for his grim aspect, And large proportion of his strong knit Limbes. Alas, this is a Child, a silly Dwarfe: It cannot be, this weake and writhled shrimpe Should strike such terror to his Enemies Talb. Madame, I haue beene bold to trouble you: But since your Ladyship is not at leysure, Ile sort some other time to visit you Count. What meanes he now? Goe aske him, whither he goes? Mess. Stay my Lord Talbot, for my Lady craues, To know the cause of your abrupt departure? Talb. Marry, for that shee's in a wrong beleefe, I goe to certifie her Talbot's here. Enter Porter with Keyes.
Count. If thou be he, then art thou Prisoner Talb. Prisoner? to whom? Count. To me, blood-thirstie Lord: And for that cause I trayn'd thee to my House. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my Gallery thy Picture hangs: But now the substance shall endure the like, And I will chayne these Legges and Armes of thine, That hast by Tyrannie these many yeeres Wasted our Countrey, slaine our Citizens, And sent our Sonnes and Husbands captiuate Talb. Ha, ha, ha Count. Laughest thou Wretch? Thy mirth shall turne to moane Talb. I laugh to see your Ladyship so fond, To thinke, that you haue ought but Talbots shadow, Whereon to practise your seueritie Count. Why? art not thou the man? Talb. I am indeede Count. Then haue I substance too Talb. No, no, I am but shadow of my selfe: You are deceiu'd, my substance is not here; For what you see, is but the smallest part, And least proportion of Humanitie: I tell you Madame, were the whole Frame here, It is of such a spacious loftie pitch, Your Roofe were not sufficient to contayn't Count. This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree? Talb. That will I shew you presently.
Som. By him that made me, Ile maintaine my words On any Plot of Ground in Christendome. Was not thy Father, Richard, Earle of Cambridge, For Treason executed in our late Kings dayes? And by his Treason, stand'st not thou attainted, Corrupted, and exempt from ancient Gentry? His Trespas yet liues guiltie in thy blood, And till thou be restor'd, thou art a Yeoman Yorke. My Father was attached, not attainted, Condemn'd to dye for Treason, but no Traytor; And that Ile proue on better men then Somerset, Were growing time once ripened to my will. For your partaker Poole, and you your selfe, Ile note you in my Booke of Memorie, To scourge you for this apprehension: Looke to it well, and say you are well warn'd Som. Ah, thou shalt finde vs ready for thee still: And know vs by these Colours for thy Foes, For these, my friends in spight of thee shall weare Yorke. And by my Soule, this pale and angry Rose, As Cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, Will I for euer, and my Faction weare, Vntill it wither with me to my Graue, Or flourish to the height of my Degree Suff. Goe forward, and be choak'd with thy ambition: And so farwell, vntill I meet thee next. Enter. Som. Haue with thee Poole: Farwell ambitious Richard. Enter.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.