The Winters Tale.

261

Clo. Then farewel, I muſt go to buy Spices for our
Sheep-f hearing. Exit.

Aut. Prolper you ſweet fir. Your Purſe is not hot enough to purchase your Spice. I'le be with you at your Sheep-f hearing too: If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the Shearers prove Sheep, let me be unrold, and my name put in the book of Vertue.

Song. Jog-on, Jog-on, the foot-path way,
And merrily bent the Stile-a.
A Merry heart goes all the day,
Tour sad tives in a Mile-a.

Exit.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Florizel, Perdita, Shepherd, Clown, Polixenes,
Camillo, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants, Autolicus.

Flor. Theſe your unuſual weeds, to each part of you
Do's give a life: no Shepherdſels but Flora
Peering in April front. This your Sheep-f hearing,
Is as a merry meeting of the petty gods,
And you the Queen on't.

Per. Sir: my gracious Lord,

To chide at your extreams, it not becomes me:
(Oh pardon, that I name them:) your high ſelf
The gracious mark o' th' Land, you have obſcured
With a Swains wearing: and me (poor lowly Maid)
Moſt goddeſs-like prank'd up: But that our Feaſts
In every Mefs, have folly; and the Feeders
Digeſt it with a Cuſtom, I should bluſh
To ſee you ſo attir'd: Iworn I think,
To ſhew my ſelf a glaſs:

Flor. I bleſſe the time

When my good Falcon, made her flight a-croſs
Thy Fathers ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you cauſe:

To me the difference forges dross (your Greatneſs
Hath not beenu'd to fear;) even now I tremble
To think your Father, by ſome accident
Should paſ this way, as you did: Oh the Fates,
How would he look to ſee his work, ſo noble,
Vildly bound up? What would he ſay? Or how
Should I (in theſe my borrowed Flaunts) behold
The ſternneſs of his prefence?

Flor. Appreheſt

Nothing but jollity: the gods themſelſes
(Humbling their Deities to love) have taken
The ſhapes of Beaſts upon them. Jupiter
Became a Bull, and bellow'd: the green Neptune
A Ram, and bleated: and the Fire-roaſ'd-God
Golden Apollo, a poor humble Swain,
As I ſeem now. Their transformations,
Were never for a piece of Beauty, rarer,
Nor in a way ſo chaſt: ſince my defires
Run not before mine Honour: nor my Luſts
Burn hotter than my Faith.

Per. O but dear fir,

Your reſolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd (as it muſt be) by th' power of the King.
One of theſe two moſt be neceſſities,
Which then will ſpeak, that you muſt change this purpofe,
Or I my life.

Flor. Thou deareft Perdita,

With theſe forſt thoughts, I prethee darken not
The Mirth o' th' Feaſt: Or I'le be thine (my Fair)
Or not my Fathers. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am moſt conſtant,
Tho Deſtiny ſay no. Be merry (Gentle)

Strangle ſuch thoughts as theſe, with any thing

That you behold the while. Your Gueſts are coming:
Lift up you Countenance, as it were the day
Of Celebration of that Nuptial, which
We two have ſworn ſhall come:

Per. O Lady Fortune,

Stand you auſpicious.

Flor. See, your Gueſts approach,

Addreſs your ſelf to entertain them ſprightly
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie (Daughter) when my old Wife liv'd: upon
This day, the was both Pantler, Butler, Cook,
Both Dame and Servant: Welcom'd all, ſerv'd all,
Would ſing her Song, and dance her turn; now here
At upper end o' th' Table; now i' th' middle:
On his ſhoulders, and his; her face o' ſire
With labour, and the things she took to quench it;
She would to each one ſip. You are retired,
As if you were a feaſted one; and not
The Hoſſeſs of thee meeting: Pray you bid
Theſe unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better Friends, more known.
Come, quench your Bluſhes, and prefent you ſelf
That which you are, Miftris o' th' Feaſt. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your Sheep-f hearing,
As your good Flock ſhall prosper.

Per. Sir, welcome:

It is my Father's will, I should take on me
The Hoſſeſſhip o' th' day; you're welcome fir,
Give me theſe Flowers there (Dorcas.) Reverend Sirs,
For you, there's Rofemary, and Rue, theſe keep
Seeming, and favour all the Winter long:
Grace, and Remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our Shearing.

Flor. Shepherdeſs,

(A fair one are you; well you fit our ages
W. h. Flowers of Winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on Summers death, nor on the birth
Of trembling Winter, the faireſt Flowers o' th' Season
Are our Carnations, and ſtreak't Gilly-vors,
(Which ſome call Natures Baſtards) of that kind
Our ruſtick Garden's barren, and I care not
To get flIPS of them.

Flor. Wherefore (gentle Maiden)

Do you negleſt them?

Per. For I have heard it ſaid,

There is an Art, which in their pidenſes ſhares
With great creating-Nature.

Flor. Say there be:

Yet Nature is made better by no mean,
But Nature makes that mean; to over that Art
(Which you ſay adds to Nature) is an Art
That Nature makes; you ſee (sweet Maid) we Marry
A gentler Sien, to the wildeſt Stock,
And make conceive a bark of baſer kind
By bud of Nobler race. This is an Art
Which do's mend Nature: change it rather, but
The Art it ſelf, is Nature.

Per. So it is:

Flor. Then make your Garden rich in Gilly-vors,
And do not call them Baſtards.

Per. I'le not put

The Dible in earth, to fet one ſlip of them:
No more than were I painted, I would wifh
This youth ſhould ſay't were well; and only therefore
Defire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you:
Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjorum,
The Mary-gold, that goes to bed with' Sun,
And with him riles, weeping: Theſe are Flowers
Of middle Summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. Y'are welcome.

Cam. I' should leave grazing, were I of your Flock,
And only live by gazing.

Per.

The Winters Tale.

262

Per. Out alas;
You'd be so lean, that blasts of January (Friends
Would blow you through and through. Now (my fair'rt
I would I had fome Flowers o'th Spring, that might
Become your time of day: and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your Virgin-branches yet
Your Maiden-heads growing: O Proserpina,
For the Flowers now, that (frighted) thou let'st fall
From Diffes Waggon: Deffadils,
That come before the Swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty: Violets (dim
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath) pale Prim-roles,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phæbus in his strength (a Malady
Moft incident to Maids:) bold Oxlips, and
The Crown imperial: Lillies of all kinds,
(The Flower-de-Luce being one.) O, thefe I lack,
To make you Garlands of) and my sweet Friend,
I'f flew him o're, and o're.

Flor. What ? like a Coarfe?

Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on:
Not like a Coarſe; or if: not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine arms. Come take your flowers,
Methinks I play as I have ſeen them do
If Whitfon-paſtorals: Sure this Robe of mine
Do's change my diſpoſition.

Flor. What you do,
Still better what is done. When you ſpeak (sweet)
I'le have you do it ever, when you ſing,
I'le have you buy, and ſell ſo; to give Alms,
Pray ſo; and for the ord'ring your Affairs,
To ſing them too. When you do dance, I wif you
A Wave o'th Sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move ſtill, ſtill ſo;
And own no other Function. Each your doing,
(So ſingular in each particular.)
Crowns what you are doing, in the prefent deeds,
That all your Acks, are Queens.

Per. O Doricles,
Your praiſes are too large; but that your Youth
And the true blood which peeps fairly through't,
Do plainly give you out an unſtain'd Shepherd
With wifdom, I might fear (my Doricles)
You woo'd me the falſe way.

Flor. I think you have
As little skill to fear, as I have purpofe
To put you to't. But come, our dance I pray,
Y. ur hand (my Perdita:) ſo Turtles pair
That never meant to part.
Per. I'le ſwear for 'em.
Pol. This is the prettieſt Low-born Lads, that ever
Ran on the green-ford: Nothing ſhe do's, or ſeems
But ſinacks of ſomething greater than her ſelf,
Too Noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her ſomething
That makes her blood look on't: Good ſooth ſhe is
The Queen of Curds and Cream.

Clo. Come on; ſtrike up.
Dor. Mopſa muſt be your Miftrſes: matry Garliek to
mend her kiſſing with.

Mop. Now in good time.
Clo. Not a word, a word, we ſtand upon our manners,
Come ſtrike up.

Here a Dance of Shepherds and
Shepherddeſſes.

Pol. Pray good Shepherd, what fair Swain is this
Which dances with your Daughter?

Shep. They call him Doricles, and boafts himself
To have a worthy Feeding; but I have it:
Upon his own report, and I believe it:
He looks like ſooth; he fays he loves my Daughter,

I think ſo too; for never gaz'd the Moon
Upon the Water, as he'll stand and read
As 'twere my Daughters Eyes: and to be plain,
I think there is not half a kils to chufe
Who loves another beſt.

Pol. She dances ſeatly.

Shep. So ſhe do's any thing, tho I report it
That ſhould be ſilent; if young Doricles
Do light upon her, ſhe ſhall bring him that
Which he not dreams of.

Enter Servants.

Ser. O Maſter: if you did but hear the Pedler at the
door, you would never dance again after a Tabor and
Pipe: no, the Bag-pipe could not move you; he ſings de-
veral Tunes ſafter than you'll tell money: he utters them
as he had eaten Ballads, and all mens Ears grew to his
Tunes.

Clo. He could never come better: he ſhall come in:
love a Ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter
merrily ſet down: or a very pleafant thing indeed, and
ſung lamentably.

Ser. He hath ſongs for man, or woman, of all ſizes;
No Milliner can ſo fit his customers with Gloves: he has
the prettieſt Low-ſongs for Maids, ſo without bawdry
(which is ſtrange) with ſuch delicate burthens of Do-
do's and Fadings: Jump her and thump her; and where
fome ſtretch-mouth'd Raical, would, (as it were) mean
mitchief, and break a foul gap into the Matter, he makes
the Maſt to anwer, Whoop, do me no harm good man,
put's him off, flights him, with Whoop, do me no harm guil
man.

Pol. This is a brave fellow.

Clo. Believe me, thou talkeſt of an admirable conciente
fellow, has he any unbraided Wares?

Ser. He hath Ribbons of all the colours i'th' Rainbow:
Points, more than all the Lawyers in Bohemia can lea-
edly handle, tho they come to him by i'th'groſ: Inles,
Caddiffes, Cambricks, Lawns; why he ſings 'em over,
where they were Gods or Goddeſſes; you would think a Smok
were a ſhe-Angel; he ſo chans to the ſleeve-hand, and
the work about the square on't.

Clo. Prethee bring him in, and let him approach ſing.

Per. Forewarn him that he uſe no ſcurrillous words in
Tunes.

Clo. You have of theſe Pedlers, that have more in them
than you'd think (Sifter)

Per. I good brother, or go about to think.

Enter Autolicus ſinging.

Lawn as white as driven Snow,
Cypreſs black, as ere was Crow,
Gloves as sweet as Damſk Rofes,
Masks for Faces, and for Noles:
Bugle-Bracelets, Neck-Lace Amber,
Perſume for a Ladies Chamber:
Golden Quoſis, and Stomachers
For my Lads eu give their Dears:
Pins, and paaking flicks of ſeel.
What Maids lack from head to heel:
Come buy of me, come: come buy, come buy,
Buy Lads, or else your Laffes cry: Come buy.

Clo. If I were not in love with Mopſa, thou shouldst
take no money of me, but being enthrall'd as I am, it will
also be the bondage of certain Ribbons and Gloves.

Mop. I was promis'd them againſt the Feaſt, but they
come not too late now.

Dor. He hath promis'd you more than that, or there be
liars.

Mop. He hath paid you all he promis'd you: 'May be
he has paid you more, which will ſhame you to give him
again.

Clo. Is there no manners left among Maids? will they

The Winters Tale.

263

were their plackets, where they should bear their faces ?
Is there not milking-time ? when you are going to bed ?
Or kill-hole ? To whiffle of thefe secrets, but you must
be tittle-tatling before all our Guefts ? Tis well they are
whifpring: clamour your tongues, and not a word more-

Mop. I have done; Come you promis'd me a tawdry-
lace, and a pair of sweet Gloves.

Clo. Have I not told thee how I was cozen'd by the
way and loft all my money ?

Aut. And indeed Sir, there are Cozeners abroad, there-
fore it behooves men to be wary.

Clo. Fear not thou man, thou fhalt lofe nothing here.

Aut. I hope I fo fir, for I have about me many parcels
of charge.

Clo. What haft here? Ballads?

Mop. Pray now buy fome, I love a Ballad in print, a
life, for then we are fure they are true.

Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a Ulu-
rers wife was brought to bed with twenty money-bags at
a burthen, and how ſhe long'd to eat Addars heads, and
Toads Carbonado'd.

Mop. Is it true, think you ?

Aut. Very true, and a month old.

Dor. Blefs me from marying a Ulufer.

Aut. Here's the Midwives name to't: one Mifcreif's Tale-
Porter, and five or fix honest Wives, that were preſent.
Why ſhould I carry lyes abroad?

Mop. 'Pray you now buy it.

Clo. Come on, Lay it by: and let's firſt fee moe Ballads: We'll buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here's another Ballad of a ſih, that appeared
upon the coaſt, on Wednesday the fourſcore of April, forty
thouſand fadom above water, and ſung this Ballad against
the hard hearts of Maids: it was thought ſhe was a Wom-
man, and was turn'd into a cold ſih, for ſhe would not
exchange ſlath with one that lov'd her: The Ballad is ve-
ry pitiful, and as true.

Dor. Is it true too, think you.

Aut. Five Joffices hands at it: and witneſſes more
than my pack will hold.

Clo. Lay it by too; another.

Aut. This is a merry Ballad, but a very pretty one.

Mop. Let's have ſome merry ones.

Aut. Why this is a paffing merry one, and goes to the
tune of two Maids woofing a man: there's ſcarce a Maid
Weſtward but ſhe ſingsit: 'tis in requeſt. I can tell you.

Mop. We can both ſing it: if thou'lt bear a part, thou
halt hear, 'tis in three parts.

Dor. We had the tune on't a month a go.

Aut. I can bear my part, you muſt know 'tis my occu-
pation: Have at it with you :

Song

Get you hence, for I muſt go

Aut. Where fies not you to know.

Dor. Wither it.

Mop. O whither?

Dor. Whither?

Mop. I: becomes thy oath full well,
Thou to me thy ſecrets tell.

Dor. Me too, let me go whither :

Mop. Or thou goſt toth' Grange, or Mill's,

Dor. If to either thou doſt ill,

Aut. Neither.

Dot. what neither?

Aut. Neither.

Dor. Thou haſt ſworn my Love to be,

Mop. Thou haſt ſworn it more to me.

Then whither goſt? Say whither?

Clo. We'l have this ſong out anon by our ſelves: My
Father and the Gent, are in ſad talk, and we'l not trouble
them: Come bring away thy pack after me, Wenches
Ile buy for you both: Pedler let's have the firſt choice ;
follow me girls. Aut. And you ſhall pay well for 'em.

Song.

Will you buy any Tape, or Lace for your Cape ?

My dainty Duck, my Deer-a?

Any Silk, any Thred, any Tyes for your head
Of the new'ſt, and fin'ſt, fin'ſe wear-a.

Come to the Pedler, Money's a medler,
That doth utter all mens ware-a.

Sir. Maſter, there is three Carters, three Shepherds,
three Neat-herds, three Swine-herds that have made
themſelves all men of hair, they call themſelves Saltie's,
and they have a Dance, which the wenches ſay is a gal-
ly-maury of Gambols, becauſe they are not in't: but
they themſelves are o'th'mind (if it be not too rough
for ſome, that know little but bowling) it will please
plenteously.

Shep. Away: we'l none on't; here has been too
much homely foolery already. I know (Sir) we weary
you.

Pol. You weary thatof that 'refreshſt us: Pray let's fee
thefe four-threes of Herdſmen.

Ser. One three of them, by their own report (Sir)
hath danc'd before the King: and not the worſt of the
three, but jumps twelve foot and half by th' ſquire.

Shep. Leave your prating, ſince theſe good men are
pleas'd, let them come in, but quickly now.

Ser. Why, they ſlay at door Sir.

Here a Dance of twelve Satires.

Pol. O Father, you! know more of that hereafter.

Is it not too far gone ? 'tis time to part them,
He's fimple, and tells much. How now (fair shepherd)

Your heart is full of ſomething, that do's take
Your mind from feaſting. Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love, as you do; I was want

To load my Shee with knacks: I would have ranſackt
The Pedlers ſilken Treasury, and have pour'd it

To her acceptance: you have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your Lais

Interpretation should abufe, and call this
Your lack of love, or bounty, you were fraited

For a reply at least, if you make a care

Of happy holding her.

Fla. Old Sir, I know

She prizes not ſuch trifflers as theſe are:
The gifts ſhe looks from me, are packt and locke
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
But not deliever'd. O hear me breath my life

Before this ancient Sir, who (it ſhould ſeem)

Hath ſometime lov'd. I take thy hand, this hand,
As soft as Doves Down, and as white as asit,
Or Ethiopians tooth, or the ſand ſnow,

That's bolted by th'Nothern blaſt, twice o're.
Pol. what follows this?

How prettily th'young Swain ſeems to wath
The hand, was fair before ? I have put you out,

But to your protection : Let me hear

What you profefs.

Fla. Do, and be witneſſs to't.
Pol. And this my neighbour too?

Fla. And he, and more

Than he, and men: the earth, and heavens, and all;
That were I crown'd the moſt Imperial Monarch

Thereof, moſt worthy: were I the faireſt youth
That ever made eye (ſwerve, had force and knowledg

More than was ever mans, I would not prize them
VWithout her Love; for her imploy them all,

Commend them, and condemn them to her ſervice,
Or to their own perdition.

Fla. Fairly offer'd,

Cam. This ſhews a found affection,

She. By my daughter,

Say you the like to him.

Per. I cannot ſpeak

Pol. Fairly offer'd,

She. By my daughter,

Say you the like to him.

Per. I cannot ſpeak

So

["The Winters Tale.", "264", "So well, ( nothing (o well) no, nor mean better,\nBy the pattern of mine own thoughts, I cut out\nThe purity of his", "Shep. Take hands, a bargain;\nAnd friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't:\nI give my daughter to him, and will make\nHer Portion equal his.", "Flor. O, that must be\nI'll'rt vertue of your daughter; one being dead,\nit shall have more than you can dream of yet,\nEnough then for you wonder: but come-on:\nContrast us? (or these witnesses.", "Shep. Come, your hand :\nAnd daughter, yours.", "Pol. Saft Swain a-while: befeech you,\nHave you a Father ?", "Flor. I have : but what of him?", "Pol. Knows he of this?", "Flor. He neither do's, nor shall.", "Pol. Me-thinks a Father,", "Is at the nuptial of his fon, a Gueft\nThat beft becomes the Table: pray you once more\nIs not your Father grown incapable\nOf reasonable affairs ? is he not ftupid\nWith Age, and altring Rheumes ? Can he speak ? hear ?\nKnow man from man? Dilipute his own estate ?\nLies he not bed-rid ? And again, do's nothing\nBut what he did, being childlike?", "Flor. No good Sir;", "He has his health, and ampler ſtrength indeed\nThan moſt have of his age,", "Pol. By my white Beard,", "You offer him (if this be ſo) a wrong", "Something unfilial: reaſon my ſon\nShould choose him ſelf a wife, but as good reaſon\nThe Father, (all whoſe joy is nothing eſſe\nBut faſt poſſerity) ſhould hold ſome counſel\nIn tuch a buſineſs.", "Flor. I yield all this;", "But for ſome other reaſons (my grave Sir)\nWhich 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint", "My Father of this buſineſs.", "Pol. Let him know't.", "Flor. He shall not.", "Pol. Prethee let him.", "Flor. No: he muſt not.", "Shep. Let him (my ſon) he shall not need to grieve\nAt knowing of thy choice.", "Flor. Come, come, he muſt not:", "Mark our Contrast.", "Pol. Mark your divorce (young Sir)", "Whom ſon I dare not call: Thou art too bafe", "To be acknowledged. Thou a Scepters Heir,", "That thus affects a sheep-hook ? Thou old Traitor,", "I am forry that by hanging thee, I can", "But hhorten thy life one week. And thou fresh ſiece", "Of excellent Wiccheſt who of force muſt know", "The royal Foon thou coapt with.", "Shep. Oh my heart.", "Pol. Ple have thy beauty feratcht with briers, and made\nMore homely than thy ſlate. For thee (found boy)\nIf I may ever know thou doſt but fight,", "That thou no more ſhalt never fee this knack ) as never\nI mean thou ſhalt ) we'll bar thee from ſucceſſion,", "Not hold thee of our blood, no not our Kin,", "Far than Deucalion off: ( mark thou my words.)", "Follow us to the Court. Thou Churl, for this time", "(Though full of our diſpleasure) yet we free thee", "From the dead blow of it: And your enchantment,\nWorthy enough a Herdſman: yea him too,", "That makes himſelf (but for our Honour therein)\nUnworthy thee. If ever henceforth, thou", "Theſe rural Latches to his entrance open,", "Or hope his body more, with thy imbraces,", "I will devife a death, as cruel for thee\nAs thou art tender to't.", "Exit.", "Perd. Even here undone:", "I was not much aſter'd: for once, or twice", "I was about to ſpeak, and tell him plainly,", "The ſelf-fame Sun, that ſhines upon his Court,", "Hides not his viſage from our Cottage, but", "Looks on alike. Wilt please you (Sir) be gone?", "I told you what would come of this: Beleech you", "Of your own ſlate take care: This dream of mine", "Being now awake, I'le Queen it no inch farther,", "But milk my Ewes, and weep.", "Cam. Why how now Father,\nSpeake ere thou dyelt.", "Shep. I cannot ſpeak, nor think,", "Nor dare to know, that which I know: O Sir,", "You have undone a man of fourſcore threes,", "That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,", "To die upon the bed my father dy'd,", "To lie close by his honest bones; but now", "Some Hangman muſt put on my ſhroud, and lay me", "Where no Priest ſhovels-in duſt. Oh curried wretch;", "That knew ſt this was the Prince, and would ſt adreſs", "To mangle faith with him. Undone, and undone", "If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd", "To die when I define.", "Exit.", "Flor. Why look you ſo upon me?", "I am but forry, not aſter'd; dela'd,", "But nothing alter'd; What I was, I am ;", "More fit training on, for plucking back ; not following", "My leaſt unwillingly.", "Cam. Gracious my Lord,", "You know your Father's temper: at this time", "He will allow no ſpeech, (which I do gheſs", "You do not purpofe to him;) and as hardly", "Will he endure your fight, as yet I fear;", "Then till the ſury of his Highneſt ſeetle,", "Come not before him.", "Flor. I no: purpofe it;", "I think Camillo.", "Cam. Even he, my Lord.", "Per. How often have I told you ?t would be thus?", "How often, my dignity would laſt", "But till ?twere known?", "Flor. It cannot fail, but by", "The violation of my faith, and then", "Let Nature cruſh the ſides o'th' earth together,", "And mar the feeds within. Lift up thy look!", "From my ſucceſſion wipe me ( Father ) I", "Am heir to my affection.", "Cam. Be advised.", "Flor. I am; and by my Fancy, if my Reaſon", "Will there to be obedient; I have Reaſon;", "If not my ſenes better (pleas'd with madneſs)", "Do bid it welcome.", "Cam. This is desperate ( fir.)", "Flor. So call it; but it does' ſuſe my vow ;", "I needs muſt think it honeſtly: Camillo,", "Not for Johemia, nor the pomp that may", "Be thereat gleaned; for all that the Sun fees, or", "The cloſe earth wombs; or the profound ſea ſhide", "In unknown ſadomes; will I break my Oath", "To this my fair below'd; Therefore I pray you,", "As you have ever been my Fathers friend,", "When he ſhalt miſes me, as (in faith) I mean not", "To fee him any more ) caſt your good counſels", "Upon his pafion; Let my ſelf, and Fortune", "Tug for the time to come. This you may know,", "And ſo deliver, I am put to ſea", "With her, whom here I cannot hold on ſhore,", "And moſt opportune to her need, I have", "A Veffel rides ſaſt by, but not prepaſt", "For this design. What courſe I mean to hold", "Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor", "", {"bbox": [677, 1344, 9

The Winters Tale.

265

Concern me the reporting.

Cam. O my Lord,

I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need.

Flo. Hark Perdita,

I'll hear you by and by.

Cam. He's irremovable,

Refo'ld for flight: Now were I happy, if
His going, I could frame to serve my turn.

Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
Purchase the fight again of dear Sicilia,

And that unhappy King, my Mafter whom
I so much thirft to fee.

Flo. Now good Camillo,

I am so fraught with curious busines's, that
I leave our Ceremony.

Cam. Sir, I think

You have heard of my poor services, i'th' love
That I have born your Father?

Flo. Very nobly

Have you deferv'd : It is my Fathers Mufick
To speak your deeds : not little of his care
To have them recompenc'd, as thought on.

Cam. Well (my Lord)

If you may please to think I love the King,
And through him, what's neareft to him, which is
Your gracious felt; embrace but your direction,
If your more ponderous and fetled project

May suffer alteration : On mine honour,

I'll point you where you shall have such receiving
As shall become your highneſts, where you may
Enjoy your Miftrels; from the whom, I fee
There's no disjunction to be made, but by
(As heavens forfend ) your ruin : Marry her,

And with my beſt endeavours, in your abſence,
Your discontenting Father, thrive to qualify
And bring him up to liking.

Flo. How Camillo

May this (almost a miracle) be done ?

That I may call thee ſomething more than man,
And after that truſt to thee?

Cam. Have you thought on

A place whereto you'll go?

Flo. Not any yet :

But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty
To what we wildly do, so we profefs
Our felves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.

Cam. Then lift to me:

This follows, if you will not change your purpofe
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,
And there preſent your ſelf, and your fair Princes,
(For fo I fee the muſt be') tore Leontes ;

She ſhall be habited, as it becomes

The partner of your Bed. Methinks I fee

Leontes opening his free Arms, and weeping

His welcome forth: asks thee the Son forgiveneſs,
As 'twere i'th' Fathers perſon : kiffes the hands
Of your fresh Princes ; ore and ore dividers him,
'Twist his unkindeneſs, and his kindeneſs: th'one
He chids to Hell, and bids the other grow

After than Thought, or Time.

Flo. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my viſitation, ſhall I
Hold up before him?

Cam. Sent by the King your Father
To greet him, and to give him comforts. Sir,
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
What you (as from your Father) ſhall deliver,
Things known betwixt us three, I ple write you down,
The which ſhall point you forth at every ſitting
What you muſt ſay, that he ſhall not perceive,
But that you have your Fathers Boſom there,
And ſpeak his very heart.

Flo. I am bound to you :

There is ſome ſap in this.

Cam. A Courſe more promifing,
Than a wild dedication of your ſelves

To unpath'd waters, undream'd Shores; moſt certain,
To miferies enough: no hope to help you.

But as you ſhake off one, to take another:

Nothing to certain, as your Anchors, who

Do their beſt office, if they can but ſtay you,

Where you'l be loath to be : befides you know,

Prosperity's the very bond of love,

Whofe fresh complexion, and whole heart together,

Affliction alters.

Per. One of theſe is true:

I think Affliction may ſubdue the cheek,
But not take in the Mind.

Cam. Yea, ſay you to?

There ſhall not a you ar Fathers houſe, theſe ſeven years
Be born another ſuch.

Flo. My good Camillo,

She's as forward of her breeding, as

She is i'th' rear 'our birth.

Cam. I cannot ſay, 'tis pity

She lacks inſtructions, for the ſeems a Miftrels

To moſt that teach.

Par. Your pardon Sir, for this.

I ple bluſh you thanks.

Flo. My prettiſt Perdita.

But O, the Thoras we ſtand upon, (Camillo)

Preferver of my Father, now of me.

The Medicine of our Houſe: how ſhall we do ?

We are not furniſh'd like Bohemia's Son,

Nor ſhall appear in Sicily.

Cam. My Lord,

Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes

Do all lie there: It ſhall be to my care

To have you royally appointed, as if

The Scene you play, were mine. For inſtance, Sir,

That you may know you ſhall not want; one word.

Enter Autolichus.

Ant. Ha, ha, what a fool Honeſty is? and Truſt (his
ſworn brother ) a very ſimple Gentleman: I have fold all
my trumpery ; not a counterfeit ſbone, not a ribbon,
glafs, pomander, broweh, table-book, ballad, knife, tape,
glove, ſhooe-tye, bracelet; horn-ring, to keep my pack
from ſaftning : they throng who should buy firſt, as if my
Trinkets had been hallowed, and brought a benediction to
the buyer : by which means, I law whole purſe was beſt in
picture: and what I law, to my good ule, I remember
My Clown (who wants but ſomething to be a reaſonable
man) grew to in love with the Wenches ſong, that he
would not fir his pettytoes till he had both tune and
words, which fo drew the reſt of the herd to me, that
all their other fences ſuck in ears; you might have pinch'd
a Placket, it was ſenceleſs, 'twas nothing to geld a Cod-
piece of a purſe ; I would have ſi'd Keys off that hung
in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my firſ ſong, and ac-
miring the nothing of it. So that in this time of Lethar-
gy, I pick't and cut moſt of their Festiual purſes: and
had not the old man come in with a Whoo-bub againſt
his Daughter, and the Kings Son, and ſear'd my chowghes
from the chaff, I had not left a purſe alive in the whole
Amy.

Cam. Nay; but my Letters by this means being there
So ſoon as you arrive, ſhall clear that doubt.

Flo. And thole that you'l procure from King Leontes?

Cam. Shall ſatisfy your Father.

Perd. Happy be you :

All that you ſpeak, ſhews fair.

Cam. Who have we here?

Wet

266

The Winters Tale.

We'll make an instrument of this: omit

Nothing may give us ayd.

Aut. If they have over-heard me now: why hanging?

Cam. How now (Good Fellow)

Why fhak't thou fo ? fear not (man)

Here's no harm intended to thee.

Aut. I am a poor fellow, Sir.

Cam. Why, be so ftill here's no body will feal that
from thee: yet for the out-fide of thy poverty, we must
make an exchange: therefore dif-cafe thee infanily (thou
muft think there's a neceffity in't) and change garments
with this Gentleman: tho the peny-worth (on his fide)
be the worſt, yet hold thee, there's fome boot.

Aut. I am a poor fellow, Sir, (I know ye well enough.)

Cam. Nay prethee difpatch: the Gentleman is half fled already.

Aut. Are you in earneſt, Sir ? (I ſmell the trick on't.)

Flo. Difpatch, I prethee.

Aut. Indeed I have had earneſt, but I cannot with confidence take it.

Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.

Fortunate Miftrifs (let my prophecy
Come home to ye:) you muſt retire your ſelf
Into ſome Covert; take your ſweet-hearts hat
And pluck it ore your brows, mufſe your face,
Dilmantle you, and (as you can) diſliken
The truth of your own ſeeming, that you may
(For I do fear eyes over) to Ship-board
Get undefefy'd.

Per. I fee the Play ſo lies,

That I muſt bear a part.

Cam. No remedy :

Have you done there?

Flo. Should I now meet my Father.

He would not call me Son.

Cam. Nay, you ſhall have no hat ;

Come Lady, come ; farewel (my friend.)

Aut. Adieu, Sir.

Flo. O Perdita: what have we twain forgot ;

Pray you a word.

Cam. What I do next, ſhall be to tell the King

Of this escape, and whither they are bound :

Wherein, my hope is, I ſhall ſo prevail,

To force him after: in whole company

I'll view Sicilia : for whose fight,

Have a woman's Longing

Lo. For fortune ſpeed us :

This weter on (Camillo) to th' Sea ſide.

Cam. The twifter ſpeed, the better.

Exit.

Cam. I underſand the buſineſs, I hear it: to have an
ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is neceſſary for me,
but a good noſe is requisite alſo, to ſmell out work
for the other ſences. I fee this is the time that the unjuſt man
doth thrive. What an exchange had this been, without
boot? What a boot is here, with this exchange; ſure the
Gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing
extempore. The Prince himſelf is about a piece of iniquity
(Healing away from his Father, with his Clog at his heels.)
If I thought it were a piece of honefy to acquaint the King
withal, I would not do't: I hold it the more knavery
to conceal it; and therein am I conſtant to my Professi-
on.

Enter Clown and Shepheard.

Aſide, aſide, here's more matter for a hot brain: Every
Lanes end, every Shop, Church, Seſſion, Hanging yields a
careful man work.

Clown. See, fee: what a man you are now ? there is no
other way, but to tell the King (he's a Changling, and none
of your ſleth and blood.)

Shep. Nay, but hear me.

Glow. Nay, but hear me.

Shep. Go to then.

Clow. She being none of your ſleth and blood, your ſleth
and blood has not offended the King, and ſo your ſleth and
blood is not to be puniſhed by him. Shew that ſeeth things you
found about her (thofe secreſt things, all but what the hat
with her :) This being done, let the Law go whiffle: I
warrant you.

Shep. I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and his
Sons pranks too: who, I may ſay, is no honſt man ne-
ther to his father, nor to me, to go about to make me die
Kings brother in Law.

Clow. Indeed Brother in Law was the fartheſ off you
could have been to him, and then your blood had bost
the dearer, by I know how much an ounce.

Aut. Very wifely (Puppies)

Shep. Well: let us to the King: there is that in this
Fartheſ, will make him ſcratch his beard.

Aut. I know not what impediment this complaint may
be to the flight of my maſter.

Clo. ?Pray heartily he be at Pallace.

Aut. Tho I am not naturally honſt, I am ſo ſometime
by chance: Let me pocket up my pedlers excrement. How
now (Ruſtuques) whether are you bound ?

Shep. To th' Pallace (and it like your Worſhip)

Aut. Your affairs where ? what ? with whom ? the con-
dition of that Fartheſ ? the place of your dwelling ? your
names ? your ages ? of what having ? breeding, and any
thing that is fitting to be known, or cover ?

Clo. We are but plain ſellers, Sir.

Aut. A Lye: you are rough, and hairy: Let me
have no lying; it becomes none but Trademen, and thy
often give us (Souldiers) the lie, but we pay them for
with flamped Coine, not flapping ſeel, therefore they do
not give us the lye.

Clo. Your Worſhip had like to have given us one, if you
had not taken your ſelf with the manner.

Shep. Are you a courtier, and? like you Sir?

Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a Courtier. ſell
thou not the air of the Court, in theſe enſoldings? hath our
gate in it, the meaſure of the Court ? receives not the
Noſe Court-Odour from me ? reſſeet I not on thy buſines.
Court-contempt ? Think'ſt thou, for that I influeſt or
toaze from thee thy buſineſs, I am therefore no Courtier
I am courtier Cap-a-pe ; and one that will either pull-on
or pluck-back, thy buſineſs there: whereupon I command
thee to open thy affair.

Shep. My buſineſs, Sir, is to the King.

Aut. What advocate haſt thou to him?

Shep. I know not, (and't like you.)

Clo. Advocate's the Court-word for a Pheazant: for
you have none.

Shep. None, fir: I have no Pheazant cock, nor hen.

Aut. How bleſſed are we, that are not ſimple men?
Yet nature might have made me as theſe are,
Therefore I will not difdain.

Shep. This cannot be but a great Courtier.

Clo. His Garments are rich, but he wears them not
handſomely.

Clo. He ſeems to be the more noble in being ſantſa-
cal : a great man, I'le warrant ; I know by the packing
on's teeth.

Aut. The Fartheſ there? What'si'th' Fartheſ?
wherefore that Box?

Shep. Sir, there lies ſuch secreſts in this Fartheſ and Boſs
which none muſt know but the King, and which he that
know within this hour, if I may come to th' ſpeech of
him.

Aut. Age, thou haſt loft thy labour.

Shep. VVhy Sir ?

Aut. The King is not at the Pallace, he is gone about
a new Ship, to purge Malenſholy, and air himſelf: for
thou be't capable of things ſerious, thou muſt know the
King is full of grief.

Shep. So 'tis ſaid (Sir,) about hit Son that Cheu
have

The Winters Tale.

267

have married a Shepherds daughter.

Ant. If that Shepherd be not in hand-fall, let him fly;
the Curfes he shall have, the Tortures he shall feel, will
break the back of Man, the heart of Monster.

Clo. Think you so, Sir?

Aut. Nor he alone shall suffer what Wit can make hea-
vy, and vengeance bitter; but that of which are Jermain to
him (who removal'd fifty times) shall all come under the
Hangman; which, tho it be great pity, yet it is necessary.
An old Sheep-whitling Rogue, a Ram-tender, to offer
to have his Daughter come into grace ? Some say he shall
be fton'd; but that Death is toooft for him (fay 1:) Draw our Throne into a Sheep-Coat ? all Deaths are too
few, the sharpeft too eafe.

Clo. Ha's the old man ere a Son, Sir (do you hear) and't
like you, Sir.

Ant. He has a Son, who shall be flay'd alive, then
'nointed over with honey, fet on the Head of a Wafts
Neft, then fand till he be three quarters and a dram dead;
then recover'd again with Aqua-vite, or some other hot
Infusion; then, raw as he is (and in the hottest day Prognos-
tication proclaims) fflall he be fet againſt a Brick-wall
(the Sun looking with a Southward Eye upon him; where
he is to behold him, with Flies blown to Death.) But
what talk we of these Traitorly-Raſcals, whose miseries
are to be ſmi'd at, their offences being ſo capitrl? Tell me
(for you seem to be honeſt plain men) what you have to
the King: being ſomething gently confider'd, Ple bring
you where he is aboard, tender your perſons to his pre-
fence, whisper him in your behalf; and if it be in man,
beſides the King, to effect your Suit, here is a man ſhall
do it.

Clo. He seems to be of great Authority: cloſe with
him, give him Gold; and though authority be a ſubborn
Bear, yet he is oft led by the Nofe with Gold: ſhow
the infide of your Purſe to the outſide of his hand,
and no more ado. Remember ſton'd and flay'd a-
live.

Shep. And't please you (Sir) to undertake the buſi-
neſs for us, here is that Gold I have: Ple make it as much
more, and leave this young man in Pawn till I bring it
you.

Aut. After I have done what I promiſed?

Shep. I Sir.

Aut. Well, give me the moity; are you a parting in
this buſineſs.

Clo. In ſome fort, Sir: but the my caſe be a pitiful one,
I hope I ſhall not be flay'd out of it.

Aut. Oh that's the caſe of the Shepherds Son; hang him
he'll be made an example.

Clo. Comfort, good comfort: We muſt to the King,
and ſhow our ſtrange ſighs: he muſt know 'tis none of your
Daughter, nor my Sifter: we are gone eſſe. Sir, I will
give you as much as this old man do's, when the buſineſs is
performed, and remain (as he ſays) your Pawn till it be
brought you.

Aut. I will truſt you, walk before toward the Sea-side,
go on the right hand, I will, but look upon the Hedg, and
follow you.

Clo. We are bleſſ'd, in this man: as I may ſay, even
bleſſ'd.

Shep. Let's before, as he bids us: he was provided to
do us good.

Exeunt.

Aut. If I had a mind to be honeſt, I ſee Fortune would
not ſuffer me: the drops Booties in my mouth. I am
courted now with a double occasion: (gold, and a means
to do the Prince my Maſter good: which, who I nows
how that may turn back to my advancement?) I will
bring theſe two Moal's, theſe blind ones, aboard him, it
he think it fit to ſhoar them again, and that the Com-
plaint they have to the King concerns him nothing, let
him call me Rogue, for being ſo far offiſious, for I am
proof againſt that Title, and what ſhame eſſe belongs

to't: To him will I preſent them, there may be matter
in it.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Leontes, Cleomines, Dion, Paulina, Servant,
Florizel, Perdita.

Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
A Saint-like Sorrow: No fault could you make,
Which you have not redeem'd; indeed pay'd down
More penitence, than done treſpals: at the laſt
Do as the Heavens have done; forget your evil,
With them, forgive your ſelf.

Leo. Whilſt I remember

Her and her vertues, I cannot forget
My blemiſhes in them, and ſo ſtill think of
The wrong I did my ſelf: which was ſo much,
That Heir-leſs it hath made my Kingdom, and
Deſtroy'd the ſweet ſt companion that ere man
Bred his hopes out of, true.

Paul. Too true (my Lord:)
If one by one, you wedded all the World,
Or from the All that are, took ſomething good,
To make a perſect Woman; ſhe you kill'd,
Would be unparallel'd.

Leo. I think ſo. Kill'd?

She I kill'd? I did ſo, but thou ſkik't me
Sorely, to ſay I did, it is as biffer

Upon thy tongue, as in my thought. Now, good now,
Say ſo but ſeldom.

Cleo. Not at all, good Lady:
You might have ſpoken a thouſand things, that would
Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd
Your kindneſs better.

Paul. You are none of thofe,

Would have him wed again.

Dio. If you would not ſo,

You pity not the State, nor the Remembrance
Of his moſt Sovereign N. me: Conſider little,
What dangers, by his Highneſs fail of ill ſue,
May drop upon his Kingdom, and devour
Incertaing lookers on. What were more hoſſy,
Than to rejoyce the former Queen is well?

What holier, than for Royalties repair,
For preſent comfort, and for ſuture good,
To bleſſ the Bed of Majefly again
With a ſweet ſellow to't?

Paul. There is none worthv,

(Relpeſting her that's gone:) beſt the Gods
Will have ſuſtill'd their ſecret purpotes:

For has not the Divine Apollo ſaid,
Is't not the tenor of his Oracle,

That King Leontes ſhall not have an Heir,

Till his loft Child be found? Which, that it ſhall,

Is all as monſtrous to our humane reaſon,

As my Antigonus to break his Grave,

And come again to me, who on my life,

Did perſih with the Infant. 'Tis your Councel,

My Lord ſhould to the Heavens be contrary,
Oppofe againſt their wills. Care not for ill ſue,
The Crown will find an Heir. Great Alexander

Left his to th' Worthiſt: ſo his Succesſor
Was like to be the beſt.

Leo. Good Paulina,

Who haſt the memory of Hermione

I know in honour: O, that ever I

Had Iquar'd me to thy Councel: then, even now

Z

I might.

The Winters Tale.

268

I might have look'd upon my Queens full eyes,
Have taken Treasure from her lips.

Paul. And left them

More rich, for what they yielded.

Leo. Thou speak'st truth:
No more such wives, therefore no wife; one worfe,
And better us'd, would make her Sainted Spirit,
Again poffels her Corps, and on this Stage,
(Where we Offenders now appear) Soul-vest,
And begin, why to me.

Paul. Had she such power,
She had just caufe.

Leo. She had, and would incense me
To murther her I married.

Paul. I should to :
Were I the Ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you mark
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't
You chole her : then I'd thrick, that even your Ears
Should rife to hear me, and the words that follow'd,
Should be, Remember mine.

Leo. Stars, Stars,
And all eyes else, dead coals; fear thou no Wife;
I'c have no Wife, *Paulina*.

Paul. Will you wear

Never to marry, but by my free leave?

Leo. Never (*Paulina*) to be blefs'd my Spirit.

Paul. Then good my Lords, bear witness to his Oath.

Cleo. You tempt him over-much.

Paul. Unless another,

As like *Hermione*, as is her picture,
Affront his eye.

Cleo. Good Madam, I have done.

Paul. Yet if my Lord will marry ; if you will, Sirs ;

No remedy but you will : Give me the office

To chufe you a Queen ; she shall not be so young

As was your former, but she shall be such

As (walk'd your first Queens Ghost) it should take joy

To fee her in your arms.

Leo. My true *Paulina*,

We shall not marry, till you bid us.

Paul. That

Shall be when your first Queen's again in breath :
Never till then.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his Princes (the
The faireft I have yet beheld) defires acceds
To your high prefence.

Leo. What with him ? he comes not
Like to his Fathers greatneſs; his approach
(So out of circumſtance, and ſudden) tells us,
Is not a Vifitation fram'd, but ſore'd
By need, and accident. What Train ?

Ser. But few,

And thofe but mean.

Leo. His Princes (fay you) with him ?

Ser. I, the moſt peerleſs piece of Earth, I think,
That ere the Sun ſhone bright on.

Paul. Oh *Hermione*,

As ever prefent Time doth boast it ſelf
Above a better, gone ; so muſt thy Grave
Give way to what's ſeen now. Sir, you your ſelf
Have faid, and writ to: but your writing now
Is colder than that Theam ; ſhe had not been,
Nor was not to be equal'd ; thus your Verſe
Flow'd with her Beauty once, 'tis ſhrewdly ebb'd,
To ſay you have been a better.

Ser. Pardon, Madam :

The one, I have almost forgot (your pardon :)
The other, when ſhe ha's obtain'd your Eye,
Will have your Tongue too. This is a Creature,
Would ſhe begin a Sea, might quench the zeal

Of all Proſeſſorfelfe : make profelites
Of who ſhe but bid follow.

Paul. How ? not Women?

Ser. Women will love her, that ſhe is a Woman
More worth than any Man : Men that ſhe is
The rareſt of all Women.

Leo. Go *Cleomines*,
You ſelf (aſſiſted with your honour'd friends)
Bring them to our embracement. Still 'tis ſtrange,
He thus ſhould ſteal upon us.

Paul. Had our Prince,
(Jewel of Children) ſeen this hour, he had pai'd
Well with this Lord; there was not a full month
Between their Births.

Leo. 'Prethee no more ; caſe : thou know'st
He dies to me again, when talk'd of: ſure
When I ſhall fee this Gentleman, thy Speeches
Will bring me to consider that, which may
Unſurſiſh me of Reafon. They are come.

Enter Florizel, Perdita, Cleomines, and others.

Your Mother was moſt true to Wedlock, Prince,
For ſhe did print your Royal Father off,
Conceiving you. Were I but twenty one,
Your Fathers Image is to hit in you,
(His very air) that I should call you Brother,
As I did him, and ſpeak of ſomething wildly
By us perform'd before. Moſt clearly welcome,
And your fair Princes (Goddeſs) oh: alas,
I lоſt a couple, that 'twixt Heaven and Earth
Might thus have ſlood, begetting wonder, as
You (gracions Couple) do : and then I lоſt
(All mine own Folly) the Society,
Amity too of your brave Father, whom
(Tho bearing Mifeſy) I define my life
Once more to look on him.

Florizel. By his command
Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
Give you all greetings, that a King (as friend)
Can fend his Brother : and but infirmity
(Which waits upon worn times) hath ſomething fein'd
His wif'h'd Ability, he had himſelf
The Lands and Waters, 'twixt your Thronе and his
Meafur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves
(He bad me ſay fo) more than all the Scepters,
And thofe that bear them, living.

Leo. Oh my Brother,
(Good Gentleman) the wrongs I have done thee, fir
Aſreſh within me; and theſe thy offices
(So rarely kind) are as Interpreters
Of my behind-hand ſlackneſs. Welcome hitherto,
As is the Spring to th' Earth. And hath he too
Expoſ'd this Paragon to th' ſeafuſe ſuſage
(At leaſt ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man, not worth her pains : much leſſ,
Th' adventure of her perſon ?

Florizel. Good my Lord,
She came from Lybia.

Leo. Where the warlike *Smulus*,
That Noble honour'd Lord, is fear'd, and lov'd ?

Florizel. Moſt Royal Sir,
From thence: from him, whoſe Daughter
His Tears proclaim'd his parting with her: thence
(A prosperous South-wind friendly we have croſ'd,
To execute the Charge my Father gave me,
For vifiting) your Highneſt : my beſt Train
I have from your Sicilian ſhores diſinſ'd.
Who for *Bohemia* bend, to ſignify
Not only my ſuccels in *Lybia* (fir)
But my arrival, and my Wifes, in safety
Here, where we are.

Lu.

The Winters Tale.

269

### Leo. The bleffed Gods

Purge all infeccion from our Air, whilft you
Do Climate here: you have a holy Father,
A graceful Gentleman, against whole perfon
(So faered as it is) I have done fin,
For which the Heavens (taking angry note)
Have left me llue-lefs: and your Father's bleſſ'd
(As he from Heaven meritsit ) with you,
Worthy his goodneſts. What might I have been,
Might I a Son and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you ?

Enter a Lord.

### Lord. Moſt Noble Sir,

That which I ſhall report will bear no credit,
Were not the proof to nigh. Pleare you ( great Sir )
Bohemia greets you from himself, by me:
Defires you to attach his Son, who ha's
(His Dignity, and Duty both caſt off)
Fled from his Father, from his Hopes, and with
A Shepherds Daughter.

### Leo. Where's Bohemia ? ſpeak.

### Lor. Here in your City: I now came from him.
I ſpeak amazedly, and it becomes,
My marvel, and my Meflage, to your Court
Whiles he was haſtning ( in the Chafe, it ſeems,
Of this fair Couple ) meets he on the way
The Father of this ſeeming Lady, and
Her Brother, having both their Countrey quitted,
With this young Prince.

### Fo. Camillo ha's betray'd me ;

Wholeſt honour, and whole honeſty till now,
Endur'd all Weathers.

### Lord. Lay't to his charge :
He's with the King your Father.

### Leo. Who ? Camillo ?

### Lord. Camillo ? ( Sir : ) I ſpake with him : who now
Ha's theſe poor men in queſtion. Never ſaw I
Wretches to quake : they kneel, they kils the earth;
Forſwear themſelves as often as they ſpeak :
Bohemia floſpishears, and threatens them
With divers deaths, in death.

### Per. Oh my poor Father ;

The Heaven ſets ſpies upon us, will not have
Our Contraſt celebrated.

### Leo. You are married ?

### Flo. We are not (Sir) nor are we like to be ;
The Stars (I ſee) will kils the Valleys firſt ;
The odds for high and low's alike.

### Leo. My Lord,

Is this the Daughter of a King ?

### Flo. She is,

When once ſhe is my Wife.

### Leo. That once (I ſee) by your good Father's ſpeed,
Will come-on very flowly. I am forry
(Moſt forry) you have broken from his likings,
Where you were tv'd in duty: and as forry,
Your choice is not to ſich in Worth, as beauty,
That you might well enjoy her.

### Flo. Dear look up :

Though Fortune, vifible an enemy,
Should chafe us, with my Father: power no jot
Hath ſhe to change our Loves. Befeech you (Sir)
Remember ſince you ow'd no more to Time
Than I do now: with thought of ſuch affectedions,
Step forth mine Advocate: at your requeſt,
My Father will grant precious things, as Trifles.

### Leo. Would he do ſo. I'd beg your precious Miftris
Which he counts but a Trifle.

### Paul. Sir (my Liege)

Your eye hath too much youth in't : not a month
'Fore your Queen did, ſhe was more worth ſuch gaz's
Than what you look on now.

### Leo. I thought of her,

Even in theſe looks I made. But your Petition
Is yet un-anſwer'd : I will to your Father :
Your Honour not o're thrown by your defires,
I am friend to them, and you : upon which Errand
I now go toward him : therefore follow me,
And mark what way I make : Come, good my Lord

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

### Enter Autolichus, and a Gentleman.

### Aut. Befeech you (Sir) were you preſent at this Reſa-
tion?

### Gent. 1. I was by the opening of the Fardel, heard
the old Shepherd deliver the manner how he found it ;
whereupon (after a little amazedneſts ) we were all com-
manded out of the Chamber : only this (me thought ) I
heard the Shepherd ſay, he found the Child.

### Aut. I would moſt gladly know the llue of it.

### Gen. 1. I make a broken delivery of the buſineſs but
the changes I perceived in the King and Camillo, were ve-
ry Notes of admiration ; they ſeem'd almost, with flaring
on one another, to tear the Cafes of their Eyes. There
was ſpeech in their dumbneſs, Language in their very Ge-
ſure : they look'd as they had heard of a World ranſom'd,
or one deſtroyed ; a notable paſſion of Wonder appeared
in them : but the wifeft beholder, that knew no more
but ſeeing, could not ſay, if th' importance were Joy, or
Sorrow ; but in the extremity of the one, it muſt needs be.

### Enter another Gentleman.

Here comes a Gentleman, that happily knows more:

The News, Rugeo.

### Gen. 2. Nothing but Bonfires: the Oracle is ſuſſuſ'd;
the Kings Daughter is found; ſuch a deal of wonder is
broken out within this hour, that Balladmakers cannot
be able to expreſs it.

### Enter another Gentleman.

Here comes the Lady Paulina's Steward, he can deliver
you more. How goes it now (Sir ? ) This News (which
is call'd true) is ſo like an old Tale, that the verity of it is
in ſtrong ſupliption ; Ha's the King found his heir ?

### Gen. 3. Moſt true, if ever Truth were pregnant by
Circumſtance; That which you hear, you'l (wear you
ſee, there is ſuch unity in the Proofs. The Mantle
of Quen Hermione; her Jewel about the Neck of it;
the Letters of Antigonus found with it, which they know
to be his Charaſter; the Majety of the Creature, in re-
llemblance of the Mother, the Aſſection of Noblenefs,
which nature ſhews above her breeding, and many o-
other Evidences, proclaim her with all certainty to be
the Kings Daughter: did you ſee the meeting of the two
Kings ?

### Gent. 2. No.

### Gen. 3. Then have you loft a ſlight which was to be
ſeen, cannot be ſpoken of. There might you have be
held one Joy crowo another, fo and in ſuch manner, that
it ſeem'd Sorrow wept to take leave of them ; for their
Joy waded in tars. There was caſing up of Eyes, hol-
ding up of hands, with Countenance of ſuch diſtraCTION,
that they were to be known by Garment, not by Favour.
Our King being ready to leap out of himſelf, for joy of
his found Daughter ; as if that joy were now become a
Loſs, cries, Oh, thy Mother, thy Mother ; then asks

Z 2

Bohemia

The Winters Tale.

270

Bohemia for given's, then embraces his Son-in-law: then
again worries he his Daughter, with clipping her. Now
he thanks the old Shepherd (which flands by, like a wea-
ther-beaten Conduit of many Kings Reigns.) I never
heard of such another encounter; which lames Report to
follow it, and undo's decription to do it.

Gent. 2. What pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

Gent. 3. Like an old Tale still, which will have matters
to rehearte, the Credit be asleep, and not a car open, he
was born to pieces with a Bear: This avouches the Shep-
herds son, who has not only his innocence (which teems
much) to justifie him, but a Handkerchief and Rings of
his; that Paulina knows.

Gent. 1. What became of his Bark, and his Follow-
ers?

Gent. 3. Wrackt the fame instant of their Masters
death, and in the view of the Shepherd: so that all the
instruments which aided to expofe the Child, were even
then loft, when it was found. But oh the Noble combat,
that 'twixt Joy and Sorrow was fought in Paulina. She
had one eye declined for the lots of her Husband, another
elevated that the Oracle was fulfil'd: She lifted the
Princefs from the Earth, and so locks her in embracing,
as if she would pin her to her heart, that she mighe no
more be in danger of loing.

Gent. 1. The Dignity of this AŒ was worth the an-
dience of Kings and Princes, for by such was it acted.

Gent. 3. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that
which angled for mine Eyes (caught the water, though
not the Fifth) was, when at the Relation of the Queens
death (with the manner how he came to't, bravely con-
feſ'd, and lamented by the King) how attentiveness
wounded his Daughter, till (from one sign of dolour to
another) ſhe did (with an Alas) I would fain ſay, bleed
Tears; for I am sure, my heart wept blood. Who was
moſt marble there, changed colour: ſome ſwounded, all
forrowed: if all the World could have been't, the Woe
had been univerſal.

Gent. 1. Are they returned to the Court?

Gent. 3. No: the Princeſs hearing of her Mothers
Statue (which is in the keeping of Paulina) a Piece many
years in doing, and now newly perform'd by that rare
Italian Maſter, Julio Romano, who (had he himself ſter-
nity, and could but breathe into his Work) would be-
guile Nature of her Custo, to perſectly he is her Ape:
He ſo near to Hermione, hath done Hermione, that they
ſay one would ſpeak to her, and ſland in hope of anſwer.
Thither (with all greedineſs of affection) are they gone;
and there they intend to ſup.

Gent. 2. I thought he had ſome great matter there in
hand, for he hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever
ſince the death of Hermione, visited that removed house.
Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejo-
ing?

Gent. 1. Who would be thence, that ha's the benefit
of accids? every wink of an Eye, ſome new Grace will be
born: our abſence makes us unthrifty to our Knowledg.
Let's along.

Exist.

Aut. Now (had I not the dafh of my former life in
me) would Preferment drop on my head. I brought
the old man and his Son aboard the Prince; told him, I
heard them talk of a Farthel, and I know not what; but
he at that time over-fond of the Shepherds daughter (to
he then took her to be) who began to be much Sea-fick,
and himſelf little better, extremity of weather continuing,
this Myſtery remained undiſcover'd. But 'tis all one
to me: for had I been the finder-out of this ſecret, it would
not have reliſh'd among my other diſcredits.

Enter Shepherd and Clown.

Here come thofe I have done good to againſt my will,

and already appearing in the bloſſoms of their Fort-
tune.

Shep. Come boy, I am paff more Children: but the
Sons and daughters will be all Gentlemen born.

Clo. You are well met (Sir;) you den'd to fight
with me this other day, becauſe I was no Gentleman born.
See you theſe clothes? ſay you fee them not, and think
thoſe no Gentleman born: You were beſt ſay the ſo
are not Gentlemen born. Give me the Lye: do; and
try whether I am not now a Gentleman born.

Aut. I know you are now (Sir) a Gentleman born.

Clo. I, and have been ſo any time theſe four hours.

Shep. And to have it, boy.

Clo. So you have; but I was a Gentleman born before
my Father: for the Kings Son took me by the hand, and
call'd me brother; and then the two Kings call'd my
Father brother: and then the Prince my brother and the
Princeſs my Sifter call'd my Father, father, and so we
wept: and there was the first Gentleman-like tears that
ever he ſhed.

Shep. We may live, Son, to ſhed many more.

Clo. I, or else I were hard wench, being in to preſ-
rous eſtate as we are.

Aut. I humbly beſech you, fir, to pardon me all
faults I have committed to your Worſhip, and to give me
your good report to the Prince my Maſter.

Shep. 'Pretence ſon do: for we muſt be gentle, now we
are Gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life?

Aut. I, and it like your good Worſhip.

Clo. Give me thy hand; I will ſwear to the Prince
thou art as hoffeſt a true Fellow as any is in Bohemia.

Shep. You may ſay it, but not ſwear it.

Clo. Not ſwear it, now I am a Gentleman? Let Ber
and Franklins ſay it, I pre ſwear it.

Shep. How it it be ſalle ſon?

Clo. If it be nere to ſalle, a true Gentleman may ſweat
it in the behalf of his friend: And I pre ſwear to the
Prince, thou art at all ſellow of thy hands, and that thou
wilt not be drunk: but I know thou art no tall ſellow
of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk, but I
ſwear it, and I would thou wouldſt be a tall ſellow of thy
hands.

Aut. I will prove ſo fir, to my power.

Clo. I, by any means prove a tall Fellow: if I do not
wonder how thou dar't venture to be drunk, nor be
a tall Fellow, truſt me not. Hark, the Kings and the Pri-
ces (our Kindred) are going to fee the Queens Picture.
Come, follow us: We'll be thy good Maſter.

Exult.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita. Camillo, Paulina, Hermione, (like a Statue.) Lords, &c.

Leo. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
That I have had of thee?

Paul. What, Sovereign fir,
I did not well, I meant well; all my ſervices
You have paid home. But that you have vouchſafed
(VVith your Crown'd Brother, and the ſeulſures contracted
Heirs of your Kingdoms) my poor Route to viſit,
It is a ſurplus of your Grace, which never
My life may laſt to anſwer.

Leo. O Paulina,
VVe honour you with trouble; but we came
To fee the Statue of our Queen. Your Gallery

Hare

The Winters Tale.

271

Have we paf'd through, not without much content
In many singularities: but we faw nor
That which our Daughter came to look upon,
The Statue of her Mother.

Paul As he liv'd Peerlesf,
So her dead likenes I do well believe
Excels what ever yet you look'd upon,
Or hand of Man hath done: therefore I keep it
Lovely, apart. But here it is: prepare
To fee the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still Sleep mock'd death : behold, and fay 'tis well.
I like your filence, it the more frows off
Your wonder ; but yet fpeak, firſt you (my Liege)
Comes it not something near ?

Leo. Her natural Poſture.

Chide me (dear Stone) that I may fay indeed
Thou art *Hermione*; or rather, thou art ſhe,
In thy not chiding ; for ſhe was as tender
As infancy, and grace. But yet (*Paulina*)
*Hermione* was not ſo much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this ſeems.

Pol. Oh, not by much.

Paul. So much the more our Carvers excellence.
Which lets go by fome fixteen years, and makes her
As ſhe liv'd now.

Leo. As now ſhe might have done,
So much to my good comfort, as it is
Now piercing to my Soul. Oh, thus ſhe flood,
Even with fuch Life of Majefty (warm Life,
As now it coldly fands) when firſt I woo'd her:
I am afham'd; do's not the ſtone rebuke me,
For being more ſone than it ? Oh Royal Piece;
There's Magick in thy Majcſty, which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and
From thy admiring Daughter took the Spirit,
Standing like Stone with thee.

Perd. And give me leave.

And do not fay 'tis Superſition, that
I kneel, and then implore her bleffing. Lady,
Deer Queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kifs.

Paul O, patience.

The Statue is but newly fix'd: the Colour's
Not dry.

Cam. My Lord, your forrow was too fore lay'd-on,
Which fixteen Winters cannot blow away,
So many Summers dry, ſcarce any Joy
Did ever ſo long live ; no Sorrow,
But kill'd it ſelf much fooner.

Pol. Dear my Brother,
Let him that was the caufe of this, have power
To take off ſo much grief from you, as he
Will piece up in himſelf.

Paul. Indeed my Lord,
If I had thought the fight of my poor Image
Would thus have wrought you (for the ſtone is mine)
I'd not have ſhew'd you it.

Leo. Do not draw the Curtain.

Paul. No longer ſhall you gaze on't, left your Fancy
May think anon, it moves.

Leo. Let be, let be,
Would I were dead, but that methinks already.
(What was he that did make it ?) See (my Lord)
Would you not deem it breath'd ? and that thofe veins
Did verily bear blood ?

Pol. Mafterly done.

The very life ſeems warm upon her Lip.

Leo. The fixture of her Eye his motion in'r,
As we are mock'd with Art.

Paul. Ile draw the Curtain ;
My Lord's almoſt to far transported, that
He'l think anon it lives.

Leo. Oh (weet *Paulina*,
Make me to think ſo twenty years together :

No fetled fences of the World can match

The pleasure of that madneſt. Let's alone.

Paul. I am forry (Sir) I have thus far ſtir'd you; but
I could afflict you further.

Leo. Do *Paulina* ;

For this affliction ha's a taffe as weet
As any cordial comfort. Still methinks
There is an ayr comes from her. What fine Chizzl
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
For I will kif her.

Paul. Good my Lord forbear;
The ruddines upon her lip is wet;
You'l marre it, if you kif it; ſtain your own
With Oyly Painting; ſhall I draw the Curtain ?
Leo. No, not three ſeventy years.

Perd. So long could I

Stand by, a looker on.

Paul. Either forbear,
Quit preſently the Chappel, or resolve you
For more amaz-ment; if you can behold it,
I'le make the Statue move indeed; defend,
And take you by the hand; but then you'll think
(VVhich I proteſt againſt) I am afflited
By wicked Powers.

Leo. VVhat you can make her do,
I am content to look on; what to ſpeak,
I am content to hear ; for 'tis as eafy
I to make her ſpeak, as move.

Paul. It is requi'd

You do awake your Faith, then all ſtand fill.
On ; that hole that think it: is unlawful Bufineſs
I am about, let them depart.

Leo. Proceed ;

No toot ſhall ſtir,

Paul. Mufick; awake her: Strike,
'Tis time; defend; be Stone no more: approach,
Strike all that look upon with marvail. Come,
Pie fill your Grave up: ſtir, nay come away:
Bequeath to death your numbneſs: (for from him
Dear life redeems you ) you perceive ſhe flirs,
Start not, her actions ſhall be holy, as
You hear my ſpell is lawful, do not ſun her,
Until you fee her dye again, for then
You kill her double. Nay, prefent your hand,
VWhen ſhe was young, you woo'd her, now in age,
is ſhe become the Suitor ?

Leo. Oh ſhe's warm,
if this be Magick, let it be an art
Lawful as Eating.

Pol. She embraces him.

Cam. She hangs about his neck,
If he pertain to life, let her ſpeak too.

Pol. I, and make it manifeſt where ſhe has lived,
Or how ſtoł from the dead ?

Paul. That ſhe is living,
Were it but told you, ſhould be hooted at
Like an old tale; but it appears ſhe lives,
Tho yet ſhe ſpeak not. Mark a little while.
Please you to enterpofe (fair Madam) kneel,
And pray your Mothers bleffing, turn good Lady,
Our *Perdita* is found.

Her. You gods look down,
And from your facred viols pour your graces
Upon my Daughters head; tell me (minc own)
Where haſt thou been preferved ? where lived ? how found

Thy Fathers Court ? For thou ſhalt hear that I
Knowing by *Paulina*, that the Oracle
Gave hope thou waſt in being, have preferved
My ſell, to fee the ſluffe.

Paul. There is time enough for that;
Left they defire (upon this pufh ) to trouble
Your joys with like relation. Go together
You precious winners all, your exultation
Partake to every one ; I (an old Turtle)

Will!

To the Memory of the deceafed Author
Mr. WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR.

SHakespear, at length thy pious Fellows give
The World thy Works: thy Works, by
which, out live
Thy Tomb, thy Name muſt: when that ſtone
is rent,
And Time diffolves thy Stratford Monument,
Here we alive ſhall view thee ſtill. This Book,
When Braſs and Marble fade, ſhall make thee look
Fresh to all Ages: when Poſterity
Shall loathe what's new, think all is prodigy
That is not Shakeſpear's; ev'ry Line, each Verſe
Here ſhall revive, redeem thee from thy Herſe.
Nor Fire, nor canking Age, as Naſo ſaid,
Of his, thy wit-fraught Book ſhall once invade.
Nor ſhall I ere believe, or think thee dead
(Tho miſt) until our bankrout Stage be ſped
(Impoſſible) with ſome new ſtrain t'out-do
Paſſions of Juliet, and her Romeo;
Or till I hear a Scene more nobly take,
Than when thy half ſword parlying Yeomans ſpake.
Till theſe, till any of thy Volumes reſt
Shall with more fire, more feeling be expreſſ,
Be ſure, our Shakeſpear, thou canſt never die,
But crown'd with Lawrel, live eternally.

L. Digges.

Upon the Effigies of my worthy Friend
the Author, Mr. W. Shakeſpear, and
his Works.

Spectator, this Lifes Shadow, is to fee
The truer Image and a livelier he
Turn Reader. But, obſerve his Comick vain,
Laugh, and proceed next to a Tragick ſtrain,
Then weep; So when thou find'ſt two contraries,
Two different paſſions from thy rapt ſoul, riſe,
Say, ( who alone effeſt ſuch wonders could )
Rare Shakeſpear to the life thou doſt behold.

To the Memory of Mr. W. Shakeſpear.

WE wonder (Shakeſpear) that thou went'ſt
ſo ſoon,
From the Worlds-Stage, to the Graves-Tyring-
room.
We thought thee dead, but this thy Printed worth
Tells thy Spectators, that thou went'ſt but forth
To enter with applaſe. An Affairs Art,
Can dye, and live, to a ſecond Part.
That's but an Exit of Mortality;
This, a Re-entrance to a Plandite.

J. M

To the Memory of my beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakeſpear; And what he hath left us.

TO draw no envy (Shakeſpear) on thy Name,
Am I thus ample to thy Book and Fame:
VWhile I confes thy writings to be ſuch,
As neither Man nor Mufe can proue too much
'Tis true, and all mens ſuffrage. But theſe way
Were not the paths I meant unto thy proue:
For feelieſt Ignorance on theſe may light,
Which, when it founds at beſt, but eccho's right.
Or blind Affection, which doth ne're advance
The truth, but gropes, and ungeth all by chance.
Or crafty malice, might pretend this proue,
And think to ruin where it ſeem'd to proue.
Theſe are, as ſome infamous Bawd, or Whore,
Should proue a Matron. What could hurt her
more?

But thou art proof againſt them, and indeed
Above th' ill fortune of them, or the nea
I therefore will begin. Soul of the Age!
The applaſe ! delight ! the wonder of
Stage!

My Shakeſpear rife; I will not lodg thee by
Chancer, or Spenſer, or bid Beaumont lie

A little further, to make thee a room:
Thou art a Monument without a Tomb,
And art alive ſtill, while thy Book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and proue to give
That I not mix thee ſo, my brain excufes;

I mean with great, but diſproportion'd Mufe:
For if I thought my judgment were of years,
I ſhould commit thee ſurely with thy Pen,
And tell how far thou didſt our Lily out-thin
Or ſporting Kid, or Marlow's mighty Lin
And tho thou hadſt ſmall Latine, and leſs Greel
From thence to honour thee, I would not ſee
For names; but call forth thundring Hesychyl
Enripides, and Sophocles to us,
Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead,
To live again, to hear thy Puskin tread,
And ſtake a Stage: Or, when thy Socks were on
Leave thee alone for the comparison

Of all, that infolent Greece, or haughty Rom
Sent forth, or ſince did from their almes come
Triumph, my Britain, thou haſt one to ſhow
To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe
He was not of an age, but for all time !
And all the Mufes, ſtill were in their prime
When like Apollo he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm !
Nature her ſelf was proud of his deſigns,
And joy'd to wear the drefſing of his Lin
Which were ſo richly ſpun, and wov'n ſo ſt.
As, ſince, the will vouchſafe no other with
The merry Greek, tart Arisophanes,
Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not pley
But antiquated, and deferted lie

As they were not of Natures family.

Yet must I not give Nature all: Thy Art,
My gentle Shakeſpear must enjoy a part.

For the Poets matter Nature be,

His Art doth give the Fashion. And, that he's

Who caſts to write a living line, muſt ſweat,
(Such as thine are) and ſtrike the ſecond heat
Upon the Mufe Anvile: turn the fame,

(And himſelf with it) that he thinks to frame;
Or for the Lawrel, he may gain a ſcorn,

For a good Poet's made, as well as born.

And ſuch wert thou. Look how the Fathers face
Lives in his Iſſue, even ſo the race

Of Shakeſpear's mind, and manners brightly ſhines
In his well turned, and true ſiled lines:

In each of which, he ſeems to ſhake a Lance,
As brandiſh't at the eyes of Ignorance.

Sweet Swan of Avon ! what a fight it were

To fee thee in our water yet appear,

And make thofe flights upon the Banks of Thames,
That ſo did take Eliza, and our James !

But ſtay, I fee thee in the Hemſphere

Advanc'd, and made a Conſtellation there !

Shine forth, thou Star of Poets, and with rage,
Or influence, chide, or chear the drooping Stage,
Which, ſince thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd
like night,

And despairs day, but for thy Volumes light.

BEN. JOHNSON.

On worthy Mr. Shakeſpear, and his
Poems.

A
Mind reflecting ages paſt, wholeſe clear
And equal ſurface can make things appear
Difſtant a Thousand years, and repreſent
Them in their lively colours juſt extent.
To out run haffy Time, retrieve the Fates,
Rowl back the Heavens, blow ope the Iron Gates
Of Death and Lethe, where ( confuſed ) lie
Great heaps of ruinous Mortality.

In that deep dusky dungeon to discern
A Royal Ghoſt from Churls ; By art to learn
The Pliſtognomy of hades, and give
Them ſudden birth, wondring how oft they live.
What ſtory coldly tells, what Poets ſain
At ſecond hand and Picture, without brain
Senſeleſs and foulleſs ſhows. To give a Stage
(Ample and true with life) voice, action, age,
As Plato's year, and new Scene of the world,
Them unto us, or us to them had hurl'd.

To raſe our ancient Soveraigns from their Herſe,
Make Kings his Subjects, by exchanging verſe ;
Enlive their pale trunks, that the prefent age
Joys in their joy, and trembles at their rage :
Yet ſo to temper paſſion, that our ears
Take pleafure in their pain; and eyes in tears
Both weep and ſmile, fearful at plots ſo ſad,
Then laughing at our fear; abus'd and glad

To be abus'd, affected with that truth

Which we perceive is falſe; pleas'd in that truth

At which we ſtart; and by elaborate play
Fortu'd and tickled; by a crab-like way
Time paſt made paſtime, and in ugly fort

Difſorging up his ravine for our ſport—

—While the Plerheian Imp from lofty throne,
Creates and rules a world, and works upon
Mankind by ſecret engines; Now to move

A chilling pity, then a rigorous love:

To ſtrike up, and ſtroak down, both Joy and Ire,
To ſteer th' affections; and by heavenly fire

Mould we arew. Stoln from our ſelves—

This and much more which cannot be expreſſt,
But by himſelf, his tongue, and his own breaſt,
Was Shakeſpear's freehold, which his cunning
brain

Improv'd by favour of the ninefold train.

The Buskin'd Mufe, the Comick Queen, the grand
And louder tone of Clito; nimble hand,
And nimbler foot of the melodious pair,

The Silver voiced Lady; the moſt fair
Calliope, whose ſpeaking ſilence daunts,

And the whole ſpraise the heavenly body chaunts.

These jointly wo o'd him, envying one another
(Obey'd by all as Spouſe, but lov'd as brother )
And wrought a curious robe of ſable grave,

Fresh, green, and pleafant yellow, red moſt brave,
And conſtant blew, rich purple, guiltleſs white,
The lowly Ruſſet, and the Scarlet bright;

Branch't and embroidered like the painted Spring
Each leaf match'd with a Flower, and each tiring
Of golden wire, each line of filk; there run
Italian works wholeſe thred the Sifters ſpun 5

And there did ſing, or ſeem to ſing, the choice
Birds of a foreign note, and various voice.
Here hangs a moffey Rock; there plays a fair
But chiding Fountain purled: Not the air,

Nor Clouds, nor Thunder, but were living drawn,
Not out of common Tiffany or Lawn.

But fine materials, which the Mufeſs know,

And only know the Countries where they grow.

Now when they could no longer him enjoy

In mortal garments pent; death may deſtroy

They ſay his body, but his Verſe ſhall live

And more than Nature takes, our hands ſhall give.

In a leſs Volume, but more ſtrongly bound

Shakeſpear ſhall breathe and ſpeak, with Lawrel
crown'd

Which never fades. Fed with Ambroſian meat,
In a well-lined Vulture rich and neat

So with this Robe they cloathe him, bid him

wear it,

For time ſhall never ſtain, nor envy tear it.

The friendly Admirer of his
Endowments,

J. M. S.

An

The Life and Death of King John.

2

A half-fac'd groat, five hundred pound a year ?
*Rob.* My gracious Liege, when that my Father liv'd,
Your Brother did imploy my Father much.

*Phil.* Well, Sir, by this you cannot get my Land,
Your tale muft be how he imploy'd my Mother.

*Rob.* And once diifpatch'd him in an Embaile
To Germany, there with the Emperor
To treat of high Affairs touching that time :
Th'advantage of his abfence took the King,
And in the mean time fojourn'd at my Fathers;
Where, how he did prevail, I fame to ſpeak :
But truth is truth, large lengths of Seas and Shores
Between my Father, and my Mother lay,
As I have heard my Father ſpeak himſelf,
When this fame lufty Gentleman was got :
Upon his death-bed he by Will bequeath'd
His Lands to me, and took it on his death
That this my Mother's Son was none of his;
And if he were, he came into the world
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time :
Then good my Liege, let me have what is mine,
My Father's Land, as was my Father's Will.

*K. John.* Sirrah, your Brother is Legitimate,
Your Father's Wife did after Wedlock bear him :
And if he did play falſe, the fault was hers,
Which fault lies on the hazzards of all Husbands
That marry Wives: tell me, how if my Brother,
Who, as you ſay, took pains to get this Son,
Had of your Father claim'd this Son for his,
In foot, good Friend, your Father might have kept
This Calf, bred from his Cow, from all the world :
In foot he might : then if he were my Brother's,
My Brother might not clam him: nor your Father,
Being none of his, refuse him : this concludes,
My Mother's Son did get your Father's Heir,
Your Father's Heir muſt have your Father's Land.

*Rob.* Shall then my Father's Will be of no force
To diſpoſeſſes that Child which is not his ?

*Phil.* Of no more force to diſpoſeſſes me, Sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think.

*Eli.* Whether hadſt thou rather be a *Faulconbridge*,
And, like thy Brother, to enjoy thy Land :
Or the reputed Son of *Cordelion*,
Lord of thy Prefence, and no Land beiſide ?

*Baſt.* Madam, and if my Brother had my ſhape
And I had his, Sir *Robert's* his like him,
And if my Legs were two ſuch riding Rods,
My Arms ſuch Eel-skins ſtuſt, my Face ſo thin,
That in mine Ear I durſt not ſick a Rofe,
Left men ſhould ſay, look where three farthings goes,
And to his ſhape were Heir to all this Land,
Would I might never ſir from off this place,
I would give it every Foot to have this Face :
I would not be Sir Nobbe in any cafe.

*Eli.* I like thee well: wilt thou forſake thy Fortune,
Bequeath thy Land to him, and follow me ?
I am a Souldier, and now bound to *France*.

*Baſt.* Brother, take you my Land, I'le take my chance;
Your Face hath got five hundred pound a year,
Yet ſell your Face for five-pence, and 'tis dear.
Madam, I'le follow you unto the death.

*Eli.* Nay, I would have you go before me thither.

*Baſt.* Our Country manners give our betters way.

*K. John.* What is thy Name?

*Baſt.* Philip, my Liege, ſo is my name begun,
Philip, good old Sir *Robert's* Wives eldeſt Son.

*K. John.* From henceforth bear his name

Wholeſe form thou beareſt :

Kneel thou down Philip, but rife more great,

Arife Sir *Richard* and *Plantagenet*.

*Baſt.* Brother by th' Mother's ſide, give me your hand,
My Father gave me Honour, yours gave Land,
Now bleſſed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, Sir *Roberts* was away.

*Eli.* The very Spirit of *Plantagenet*:
I am thy Grandam, *Richard*, call me ſo.

*Baſt.* Madam, by chance, but not by truth, what tho'
Something about, a little from the right,
In at the Window, or else o're the Hatch :
Who dares not ſir by day, muſt walk by night,
And have is have, however men do catch :
Near or far off, well won is still well ſhot,
And I am I, how e're I was begot.

*K. John.* Go, *Faulconbride*, now haſt thou thy deſire,
A Landleſs Knight, makes thee a Landed Squire :
Come Madam, and come *Richard*, we muſt ſpeed
For *France*, for *France*, for it is more than need.

*Baſt.* Brother, adieu, good Fortune come to thee,
For thou waſt got i'th' way of honesty.

*[Excuse all but *Baſt*]*

*Baſt.* A Foot of Honour better than I was,
But many a many Foot of Land the worſe.
Well, now can I make any *Joane* a Lady :
Good denne, Sir *Richard*, Godamercy Fellow,
And if his Name be *George*, I'le call him *Peter*;
For new made Honour doth forget mens Names:
'Tis too reſpèctive, and too ſociable
For your converſation, now your Traveller,
He and his Tooth-pick, at my Worſhips Mefſ,
And when my Knightly ſlomach is ſuffiſ'd,
Why then I fuck my teeth and Catechize
My picked man of Countrys: my dear, Sir,
Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin,
I ſhall beſeech you; that is Queſtion now,
And then comes Anſwer like an Abſey-book :
O Sir, ſays Anſwer, at your beſt Command,
At your Employment, at your Service, Sir :
No Sir, ſays Queſtion, I ſweet, Sir, at yours,
And ſo e're Anſwer knows what Queſtion would,
Saving in Dialogue of Complement,
And talking of the *Alpes* and *Appenines*,
The *Pyrenean* and the *River Poe*,
It draws towards ſupper in conclusion ſo.
But this is worſhipful Society,
And fits the mounting Spirit like my ſelf ;
For he is but a Baſtard to the time
That doth not ſmoak of Obſervation,
And ſo am I whether I ſmack or no;
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior Form, outward Accoutrement;
But from the inward Motion to deliver
Sweet, ſweet, ſweet payſon for the Ages Tooth,
Which though I will not Praſtife to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn ;
For it ſhall ſtrew the footſteps of my riling :
But who comes in ſuch haſte in riding Robes?
What Woman-poft is this ? hath he no Husband
That will take pains to blow a horn before her ?
O me, 'tis my Mother : how now, good Lady,
What brings you here to Court ſo haitily ?

*Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney.*

*Lady.* Where is that Slave, thy Brother ? where is he?
That holds in chafe mine Honour up and down.

*Baſt.* My Brother *Robert*, old Sir *Robert's* Son:
Colbrand the Gyant, that fame mighty man,
Is it Sir *Robert's* Son that you ſee ſo ?

*Lady.* Sir Robert's Son, I, thou unreverend Boy,
Sir Robert's Son, why ſcorneſt thou at Sir Robert ?
He is Sir Robert's Son, and ſo art thou.

*Baſt.* James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while?
*Gur.* Good leave, good Philip.
*Baſt.* Philip, Sparrow, *James*,
There's toys abroad, anon I'le tell you more.
[Exit *James*]

Madam, I was not old Sir *Robert's* Son,
Sir *Robert* might have eat his part in me

*[Exit James]*

Upon

["The Life and Death of King John.", "3", "Upon good *Fryday*, and ne're broke his Faft :\nSir *Robert* could do well, marry, to confeſs!\nCould get me, Sir *Robert* could not do it ;\nWe know his handy-work, therefore good Mother\nTo whom am I beholding for these Limbs ?\nSir *Robert* never holv to make this Leg.", "*Lady*. Haft thou confiped with thy Brother to o", "That for thine own gain should ?ft defend mine Honour ?\nWhat means this ſcorn, thou moſt untoward Knave ?\n*Baſt*. Knight, Knight, Knight, good Mother, Bafilſco-like.", "What, I am dub'd, I have it on my shoulder :", "But Mother, I am not Sir Robert's Son,\nI have diſclaim'd Sir Robert and my Land,\nLegitimation, Name, and all is gone ;", "Then, good my Mother, let me know my Father,\nSome proper man I hope, who was it, Mother ?", "*Lady*. Haſt thou deny'd thy ſelf a *Faulconbridge* ?\n*Baſt*. As faithfully as I deny the Devil.", "*Lady*. King *Richard Cordelion* was thy Father,", "By long and vehement ſuit I was ſeduc'd", "To make room for him in my Husbands Bed :", "Heaven lay not my transférglion to my charge,", "Thou art the Ille of my dear Offence", "Which was ſo strongly urg'd paff my defence.", "*Baſt*. Now, by this light, were I to get again,\nMadam, I would not with a better Father :", "Some fins do bear their privilege on Earth.", "And do foth yours: your fault was not your folly,", "Needs muſt you lay your heart at his diſpoſe,", "Subjeſted tribute to commanding love,", "Aginſt whose ſury and unmatched force,", "The Aſwleſs Lyon could not wage the fight,", "Nor keep his Princely heart from Richard's hands :", "He that per force robs Lyons of their Hearts,", "May easily win a Womans: aye, my Mother,", "With all my heart I thank thee for my Father :", "Who lives and dares but ſay, thou didst not well", "When I was got, I'le ſend his Soul to Hell.", "Come, Lady, I will ſhow the to my Kin,", "And they ſhall ſay, when Richard me begot,", "If thou hadt ſaid him nay, it had been ſin ;", "Who ſays it was, he lyes, I ſay'twas not.", "Exeunt.", "## Scena Secunda.", "*Enter before Angiers, Philip King of France, Lewis, Daul-*,\n*phin, Austria, Conſance, Arthur.*", "*Lewis*. Before Angiers well met brave *Austria*,", "*Arthur*. that great fore-runner of thy Blood,", "*Richard*. that rob'd the Lyon of his heart,", "And fought the Holy Wars in *Paleſtine*,", "By this brave Duke came early to his Grave ;", "And for amends to his Poſterity,", "At our importance hither is he come,", "To ſpread his Colours Boy, in thy behalf,", "And to rebuke the Uſurpation", "Of thy unnatural Uncle *English John*,", "Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.", "*Arth.* God ſhall forgive you *Cordelion's* death", "The rather that you give his Off-spring life,", "Shadowing their Right under your Wings of War :", "I give you welcome with a Powerleſs Hand,", "But with a Heart full of unſtained Love,", "Welcome before the Gates of Angiers, Duke.", "*Lewis*. A Noble Boy, who would not do the right ?", "*Auff.* Upon thy check lay I this zealous kifs,", "As Seal to this Indenture of my love :", "That to my home I will no more return", "Till Angiers, and the Right thou haſt in *France*,", "Together with that pale, that white-fac'd ſhore,", "Whose foot spurns back the Oceans roaring Tides ;", "And coops from other Lands her Ilanders,", "Even till that *England*, hedg'd in with the Main,", "That water-walled Bulwark, ſtill ſecure", "And confident from Foreign purpofes,", "Even till that outmoſt Corner of the *West*", "Salute thee for her King, till then fair Boy", "Will I not think of home, but follow Arms,", "*Conſr.* O take his Mothers thanks, a Widows thanks,\nTill your ſtrong hand ſhall help to give him ſtrength,\nTo make a more requital to your love.", "*Auf*. The peace of Heaven is theirs who lift their Swords\nIn fuch a juſt and charitable War.", "*King*. Well, then to work, our Cannon ſhall be bent\nAgainſt the Brows of this reſifting Town,", "Call for our chiefest men of Difſcipline,", "To cull the Plots of beſt Advantages :", "We'll lay before this Town our Royal Bones,", "Wade to the Market-place in *French-men's* Blood,", "But we will make it ſubject to this Boy.", "*Conſr.* Stay for an answer to your Embaſſe,", "Left unadvis'd you ſtain your Swords with Blood :", "My Lord *Chattilion* may from *England* bring", "That Right in Peace which here we urge in War,", "And then we ſhall repent each drop of Blood,", "That hot rafh haſte to indirectly ſhed.", "*Enter Chattilion.*", "*King*. A wonder, Lady ! I upon thy will", "Our Meſſenger *Chattilion* is arriv'd,", "What *England* ſays, ſay briefly gentle Lord,", "We coldly paſſe for thee, *Chattilion* ſpeak.", "*Char.* Then turn your Forces from this paultry Siege,\nAnd flir them up againſt a mightier Task.", "*England*, impatient of your juſt Demands,", "Hath put himſelf in Arms, the adverſe winds,", "Whofe leſiure I have ſtaid, have given him time\nTo Land his Legions all as ſoon as I :", "His Marches are expedient to this Town,", "His Forces ſtrong, his Souldiers confident :", "With him along is come the Mother-Queen,", "An Ace ſtirring him to bloud and ſtrife,", "With her her Neece, the *Lady Blanch* of *Spain*,", "With them a Baſtard of the King deceas'd,", "And all the unſettled humours of the Land,", "Raſh, inconſiderate, ſiery Volunteers,", "With Ladies Faces, and ſierce Dragons Spleens,", "Have ſold their Fortunes at their Native Homes,", "Bearing their Birth-right proudly on their Backs,", "To make a hazzard of new Fortunes here ;", "In brief, a braver Choice of dauntleſs Spirits", "Than now the *English* Bottomes have waſt o're,", "Did never float upon the ſwelling Tide,", "To do offence and ſcathe in Chriſtendom :", "The interruption of their churliſh Drums", "Cuts off more Circumſtance, they are at hand ;", "*Drums beat.*", "To partly or to fight, therefore prepare.", "*King*. How much unlooke'd for, is this Expedition !", "*Auf*. By how much unexpected, by ſo much", "We muſt awake, endeavour for defence,", "For Courage mounteth with occafion,", "Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.", "*Enter King of England, Baſtard, Queen, Blanch, Pembridge,*\n*and others.*", "*K. John.* Peace be to *France*; if *France* in peace permit", "Our juſt and lineal Entrance to our own", "If not, bleed *France*, and peace aſſend to Heaven.", "Whiles we Gods wrathful Agent do correct", "Their proud contempt that beats his peace to Heaven,", {"bbox": [464

["The Life and Death of King John.", "England we love, and for that England's fake,", "With burthen of our Armour here we sweat:", "This toy! of ours should be a work of thine,", "But thou from loving England art so far", "That thou haft under-wrought his lawful King,", "Cut off the sequence of Pomerity,", "Out-faced Infant State, and done a Rape", "Upon the Maiden-Vertue of the Crown:", "Look here upon thy Brother Geffreys Face,", "These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his;", "This little Abfraet doth contain that large,", "Which died in Geffrey : and the hand of time", "Shall draw this brief into as huge a Volume:", "That Geffrey was thy Elder Brother born,", "And this his Son, England was Geffreys Right,", "And this is Geffreys, in the Name of God,", "How comes it then that thou art call'd a King,", "When living blood doth in these Temples beat", "Which owe the Crown that thou o're-masterest?", "K. John. From whom haft thou this great Commillion,", "To draw my Anfwer from thy Articles ? [France,", "Fra. From that ſupernal Judge that flirs good thoughts", "In any Breaf of ſtrong Authority,", "To look into the Blots and Stains of Right,", "That Judge hath made me Guardian to this Boy,", "Under whose Warrant I Impeach thy Wrongs,", "And by whose help I mean to chaife it.", "K. John. Alack thou doſt uſurp Authority.", "Fran. Excufe it is to beat Uſurping down.", "Queen. Who is it thou doſt call Uſurper, France ?", "Conſt. Let me make anſwer: thy Uſurping Son.", "Queen. Out infolent, thy Baſtard ſhall be King,", "That thou may't be a Queen, and check the World.", "Conſt. My Bed was ever to thy Son as true,", "As thine was to thy Husband, and this Boy,", "Liker in feature to his Father Geffrey,", "Than thou and John, in manners being as like,", "As Rain to Water, or Devil to his Dam.", "My Boy a Baſtard ? by my Soul I think", "His Father never was in true begot,", "It cannot be, and if thou wert his Mother.", "Qu. There's a good Mother, Boy, that blots thy Father.", "Conſt. There's a good Grandam, Boy,", "That would blot thee.", "Aufs. Peace.", "Baſt. Hear the Cryer.", "Aufs. What the Devil art thou ?", "Baſt. One that will play the Devil, Sir, with you,", "And a may catch your hide and you alone :", "You are the Hare, of whom the Proverb goes,", "Whose valour plucks dead Lyons by the beard ;", "Ile ſmoak your Skin-coat, and I catch you right,", "Sirra, look to't, I'faith I will, I'faith.", "Blan. O well did he become that Lyons Robe,", "That did difrobe the Lyon of that Robe.", "Baſt. It lyes as fightely on the back of him,", "As great Aleides floos upon an Aſs :", "But, Aſs, Ile take that burthen from your back,", "Or lay on that ſhall make your shoulders crack.", "Aufs. What cracker is this fame that deaſs our ears\nWith this abundance of ſuperfluous breath?", "King Lewis determine what we ſhall do ſtreight.", "Lewis. Women and Fools break off your Conference.", "King John, this is the very ſun of all :", "England, and Ireland, Angiers, Torain, Main,", "in Right of Arthur do I claim of thee:", "Wilt thou reſign them, and lay down thy Arms ?", "John. My life as ſoon, I do defie thee, France,", "Arthur of Brittain, yield thee to my hand ;", "And out of my dear love Ile give thee more,", "Than ore the Coward-hand of France can win ;", "submit thee, Boy.", "Queen. Come to thy Grandam, Child.", "Conſt. Do, Child, go to it Grandam, Child,", "Give Grandam Kingdom, and it Grandam will", "Give it a Plum, a Cherry, and a Fig,", "There's a good Grandam.", "Arthur. Good my Mother peace,", "I would that I were low laid in my Grave,", "I am not worth this coyl that's made for me.", "Qu. My. His Mother flames him ſo, poor Boy he were?", "Conſt. Now flame upon you where're the does or no.", "His Grandam's wrong , and not his Mothers flames,", "Draws thoie Heaven-moving Pearls from his poor Epi", "Which Heaven ſhall take in nature of a Fee :", "I, with theſe ſad Crystal Beads Heaven ſhall be briſt", "To do him Juitice, and Revenge on you.", "Qu. Thou monſtrous ſlanderer of Heaven and Earth,", "Conſt. Thou monſtrous injurer of Heaven and Earth", "Call me not ſlanderer, thou and thine uſurp", "The Domination, Royalties and Rights", "Of this oppreſſed Boy ; this is thy Eldeſt Son's Son,", "Infortunate in nothing but in thee ;", "Thy fins are viſited in this poor Child,", "The Canon of the Law is laid on him,", "Being but the ſecond generation", "Removed from thy ſin-conceiving Womb.", "John. Bedlam have done.", "Conſt. I have but this to ſay,", "That he is not only plagued for her fin,", "But God hath made her ſin and her, the plague", "On this removed iffue, plagued for her,", "And with her plague her ſin : his injury", "Her injury the Beadle to her ſin,", "All puniſh'd in the perſon of this Child,", "And all for her, a plague upon her.", "Qu. Thou unadviſed ſcold, I can produce", "A Will that bars the Title of thy Son.", "Conſt. I, who doubts, a will : a wicked will,", "A women will, a cankered Grandams will.", "Fran. Peace Lady, paſſe, or be more temperate,", "It ill beſeems this preſence to cry ay me", "To theſe ill tuned repetitions :", "Some Trumpet ſummon hither to the walls", "Theſe men of Angiers, let us hear them ſpeak,", "Whofe Title they admit, Arthurs or Johns.", "Trumpet ſounds.", "Enter a Citizen upon the Walls.", "Citi. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the Walls?", "Fran. 'Tis France, for England.", "John. England for it self :", "You men of Angiers, and my loving Subjeſts.", "Fran. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's Subjeſts,", "Our Trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle.", "John. For our advantage, therefore hear us ſiſt:", "Theſe Flags of France that are advanced here", "Before the eye and profſpect of your Town,", "Have hither march'd to your end management.",

["The Life and Death of King John.", "9", "Conſt. And for mine too, when Law can do no right.\nLet it be lawful, that Law bar no wrong :", "Let it be lawful, that Law bar no wrong :\nLaw cannot give my Child his Kingdom here;\nFor he that holds his Kingdom, holds the Law,\nTherefore fince Law it self is perfect wrong,\nHow can the Law forbid my Tongue to curſe ?", "Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curſe,", "Let go the hand of that Arch-hereticque,\nAnd raiſe the Power of France upon his head,\nUnless he do ſubſume himſelf to Rome.", "Elea. Look it thou pale, France ? do not let go thy hand.", "Conſt. Look to that Devil, left that France repent,\nAnd by disjoyning hands Hell loſe a Soul.", "Auſt. King Philip, ſtien to the Cardinal.", "Baſſ. And hang a Calves-skin on his recreant Limbs.", "Auſt. Well, Ruffian, I muſt pocket up these wrongs,", "Becaufe,", "Baſſ. Your Breeches beſt may carry them.", "John. Philip, what ſay it thou to the Cardinal ?", "Conſt. What ſhould he ſay, but as the Cardinal ?", "Dolph. Bethink you Father, for the difference.", "Is purchase of a heavie Curſe from Rome,", "Or the light loſs of England for a Friend :", "Forgo the eſtayer.", "Bla. That is the Curſe of Rome.", "Con. O Lewis, ſtand faſt, the Devil tempts thee here\nIn likenefs of a new untried Bride.\nBla. The Lady Conſtance ſpeaks not from her Faith :\nBut from her Need.", "Conſt. Oh, if thou grant my Need,", "Which only lives but by the death of Faith,\nThat Need, muſt needs inſter this Principle,", "That Faith would live again by death of Need :\nO then tread down my Need, and Faith mounts up :", "Keep my Need up, and Faith is trodden down.", "John. The King is moved, and anſwers not to this.", "Conſt. O be remov'd from him, and anſwer well :", "Auſt. Do ſo, King Philip, hang no more in doubt.", "Baſſ. Hang nothing but a Calves-skin, moſt ſweet lout.", "Fran. I am perplext, and know not what to ſay.", "Pan. What canſt thou ſay, but will perplex thee more ?", "If thou ſtand excommunicate, and curſt ?", "Fran. Good reverend Father, make my perſon yours,", "And tell me how you would beſtow your ſelf ?", "This Royal hand, and mine are newly knit,", "And the conjunction of our inward ſouls", "Married in league, coupled and link'd together", "With all Religious ſtrength of ſacred Vows :", "The latest breath, that gave the found of words,", "Was deep ſworn Faith, Peace, Amity, true Love", "Between our Kingdoms and our Royal ſelves,", "And even before this Truce, but new before,", "No longer than we well could wath our hands,", "To clap this Royal Bargain up in Peace,", "Heaven knows they were beſinuar'd and over ſtain'd", "With Slaughterer's Pencil ; where Revenge did paint", "The ſtearful difference of incensed Kings :", "And ſhall these hands ſo lately purg'd of Blood ?", "So newly joyn'd in love ? ſo ſtrong in both,", "Unyoke this ſeifure, and this kind regreſt ?", "Play ſaſt and ſooſe with Faith ? ſo jeſt with Heaven,", "Make ſuch unconſtant Children of our ſelves,", "As now again to ſnatch our Palm from Palm ?", "Unſwear Faith ſworn, and on the Marriage-bed", "Of ſmiling Peace to march a bloody Hoaſt,", "And make a riot on the gentle brow", "Of true ſincerity ? O holy Sir,", "My reverend Father, let it not be ſo ;", "Out of your grace, devie, ordain, impoſe", "Some gentle Order, and then we ſhall be bleſſ", "To do your pleaſure, and continue Friends.", "Pand. All Form is ſoſtneſs, Order orderleſs,", "Save what is oppoſite to England's love.", "Therefore to Arms, be Champion of our Church,", "Or let the Church our Mother breathe her curſe,\nA Mothers curſe, on her revolting Son.", "France, thou may't hold a Serpent by the Tongue,", "A caſed Lyon by the mortal Paw,", "A falſting Tyger faſer by the Tooth,", "Than keep in peace that hand which thou doſt hold.", "Fran. I may dis-joyn my Hand, but not my Faith.", "Pand. So mak'it thou Faith an Enemy to Faith,", "And like a Civil War ſet'ſt Oath to Oath,", "Thy Tongue againſt thy Tongue. O let thy Vow", "Firſt made to Heaven, firſt be to Heaven perform'd,", "That is, to be the Champion of our Church,", "What ſince thou ſwor'ſt, is ſworn againſt thy ſelf,", "And may not be performed by thy ſelf,", "For that which thou haſt ſworn to do amifs,", "Is not amifs when it is truly done :", "And being not done, where doing tends to ill,", "The truth is then moſt done, not doing it :", "The better Act of Purpofes miſtook,", "is to miſtake again, though indirectly,", "Yet indirection thereby grows direct,", "And falſehood, falſehood cures, as fire cools fire", "Within the ſcorching veins of one new burn'd.", "It is Religion that doth make Vows kept,", "But thou haſt ſworn againſt Religion :", "By what thou ſwear't, againſt the thing thou ſwear't :", "And mak'ſt an Oath the ſureſ for thy Truth :", "Againſt an Oath the Truth, thou art unſure", "To ſwear, ſwears, only not to be ſorſworn,", "Elle what a mockery ſhould it be to ſwear ?", "But thou doſt ſwear, only to be ſorſworn,", "And moſt ſorſworn, to keep what thou doſt ſwear,", "Therefore thy latter Vows, againſt thy firſt,", "Is in thy ſelf Rebell ion to thy ſelf :", "And better Conqueſt never canſt thou make,", "Than arm thy conſtant and thy nobler parts", "Againſt theie giddy ſooſe ſuggeltions :", "Upon which better part, our Pray'rs come in", "It thou vouchſaſe them. But if not, then know", "The peril of our Curſes light on thee", "So heavy, as thou ſhalt not ſhake them off,", "But in delpair, dye under their black weight.", "Auſt. Rebell ion, flat Rebell ion.", "Baſſ. Will't not be ?", "Will not a Calves-skin ſtop that mouth of thine ?", "Daul. Father, to Arms.", "Blanch. Upon thy Wedding-day ?", "Againſt the blood that thou haſt married ?", "What ſhall our Feaſt be kept with ſlaughtered men ?", "Shall braying Trumpets, and loud churliſh Drums,", "Clamours of Hell, be meaſures to our Pomp ?", "O Husband, hear me : ay, alack, how new", "is Husband in my Mouth ? even for that Name", "Which till this time my Tongue did ne're pronouſce ;", "Upon my knee I beg, go not to Arms", "Againſt

10

I am with both, each Army hath a hand,
And in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whurle aflunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win :
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lofe :
Father, I may not with the fortune thine :
Grandam, I will not with thy wishes thrive :
Who ever wins, on that side shall I lofe :
Allured lofs, before the match be plaid.

**Dolph.** Lady, with me, with me thy Fortune lies.

**Blat.** There where my Fortune lives, there my life dies.

**John.** Cofen, go draw our Puissance together;
France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath,
A rage, whose heat hath this condition;
That nothing can allay, nothing but Blood,
The Blood and deareft valued Blood of France.

**Fren.** Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shall turn
To affes, e're our blood shall quench that fire :
Look to thy self, thou art in jeopardy.

John. No more than he that threats. To Arms let's hie.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Secunda.

Allarms, Excursions : Enter Bастard with Austria's head.

Bast. Now by my life, this day grows wondrous hot,
Some aery Devil hovers in the skie,
And pours down mischief. Austria's head Iye there,

Enter John, Arthur, Hubert.

While Philip breathes.

**John.** Hubert, keep this Boy : Philip make up,
My Mother is affailed in our Tent,
And tane, I fear.

Bast. My Lord I rescued her.
Her Highness is in safety, fear you not:
But on, my Liege, for very little Pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.

[Exit.]

Allarms, Excursions, Retreat. Enter John Eleanor, Arthur, Bастard, Hubert, Lords.

John. So shall it be: your grace shall stay behind
So strongly guarded : Cofen, look not fad,
Thy Grandam loves thee, and thy Uncle will
As dear be to thee, as thy Father was.

**Arth.** O this will make my Mother die with grief.

John. Cofen, away for England, hafte before,
And e're our coming see thou shake the Bags
Of hoarding Abbots, imprifoned Angels

Set at liberty : The fat ribs of Peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
Life our Commission in his utmoft force.

Bast. Bell, Book, and Candle, shall not drive me back,
When Gold and Silver becks me to come on.
I leave your Highness : Grandam, I will pray
(If ever I remember to be holy)

For your fair safety; so I kifs your hand.

**Ele.** Farewell, gentle Cofen.

John. Coz, farewell.

Ele. Come hither little Kinfman, hark, a word.

John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much : within this wall of flefh
There is a Soul counts thee her Creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love :
And, my good Friend, thy voluntary Oath
Lives in this bofom, dearly cherifhed.

Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say,
But I will fit it with fome better tune.
By Heaven, Hubert, I am almost afham'd

To say what good refpect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your Majefty.

John. Good Friend, thou haft no cause to fay so yet,
But thou haft have : and creep time ne're so flow,
Yet it fhall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to fay, but let it go:
The Sun is in the Heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleafure of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds.

To give me audience, if the midnight Bell
Did with his Iron Tongue, and Brazen Mouth
Sound on into the drowlie race of night:

If this fame were a Church-yard where we fland,
And thou poffeffed with a thousand Wrongs :
Or if that furly Spirit, Melancholly,
Had bak'd thy Blood, and made it heavy, thick,
Which elfe runs tickling up and down the Veins,
Making that idiot Laughter keep mens Eies,
And strain their Cheeks to idle Merriment,
A paffion hatefull to my Purpofes :

Or if that thou couldft see me without Eies,
Hear me without thine Ears, and make reply
Without a Tongue, uſing conceit alone,

Vithout Eies, Ears, and harmful found of VVards.
Then, in deſpight of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy boſom pour my thoughts :
But (ah) I will not, yet I love thee well,
And by my troth I think thou lov'st me well.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my Act,
By Heaven I would do it.

John. Do not I know thou wouldst?

Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert throw thine eye
On yon young Boy : Ile tell thee what, my Friend,
He is a very Serpent in my way,

And wherefore're this Foot of mine doth tread,
He lyes before me: doth thou undervand me?
Thou art his Keeper.

Hub. And Ile keep him so,
That he fhall not offend your Majefty.

John. Death.

Hub. My Lord.

John. A Grave.

Hub. He fhall not live.

John. Enough.

I could be merry now, Hubert, I love thee.

Well, Ile not ſay what I intend for thee :

Remember: Madam, fare you well.

I'le fend thofe Powers o're to your Majeſtý.

Ele. My bleffing go with thee.

John. For England Cofen, go.

Hubert fhall be your man, to attend on you
With all true duty: on toward Callicce, hoa.

[Exeunt]

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Franee, Dolphin, Pandupho. Attendants.

Fran. So by a roaring Tempeſt on the Flood,
A whole Armado of convicted Sail
Is scattered and disjoyned from fellowship.

Pand. Courage and comfort, all fhall yet go well.
Fran. What can go well, when we have run ſo ill?

Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers loft?

Arthur tane Přifoner ? divers dear Friends lain?

And bloody England into England gone,

O're-bearing Interruption ſpight of France?

Dol. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
So hot a ſpeed, with fuch Advice diſpos'd,
Such temperate Order in ſo fierce a Caufe,
Doth want Example: who hath read, or heard
Of any kindred-action like to this ?

Fran.

12

*Dol.* May he will not touch young Arthur's life,
But hold himself fafe in his Prifonment.

*Pand.* O Sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at this news he dies: and then the hearts
Of all his People shall revolt from him,
And kif's the lips of unacquainted Change,
And pick strong matter of Revolt, and Wrath
Out of the Bloody Fingers ends of John.

Methinks I fee this Hurley all on foot;
And O, what better matter breeds for you,
Than I have nam'd. The Baftard Fauconbridge
Is now in England ranfacking the Church,
Offending Charity: If but a dozen French
Were there in Arms, they would be as a Call
To train ten thoufand English to their side;
Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dolphin,
Go with me to the King, 'tis wonderful,
What may be wrought out of their Discontent,
Now that their Souls are top full of Offence,
For England go; I will whet on the King.

*Dol.* Stronge Reafons makes strong Actions: let us go,
If you fay I, the King will not fay no. [Exeunt]

## Actus Quintus. Scena prima.

*Enter Hubert and Executioners.*

*Hub.* Heat me these Irons hot, and look thou ſtand
Within the Arras: when I ſtrike my foot
Upon the boſom of the ground, ruff forth
And bind the Boy, which you ſhall find with me,
Faſt to the Chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.
Exec. I hope your Warrant will bear out the Deed!

*Hub.* Uncleanly Scruples, fear not you: look to't.

Young Lad come forth; I have to ſay with you.

*Enter Arthur.*

*Ar.* Good morrow, Hubert.

*Hub.* Good morrow, little Prince.

*Ar.* As little Prince, having ſo great a Title
To be more Prince, as may be: you are ſad.

*Hub.* Indeed I have been merrier.

*Ar.* Mercy on me:

Methinks no body ſhould be ſad but I:

Yet I remember when I was in France

Young Gentlemen would be as ſad as night

Only for wantonncſs: by my Chriſtendom,

So I were out of Prifon, and kept Sheep,

I ſhould be as merry as the day is long:

And fo I would be here, but that I doubt

My Uncle pradifes more harm to me :

He is afraid of me, and I of him :

Is it my fault that I was Geſſery's Son ?

No indeed is not, and I would to Heaven

I were your Son, fo you would love me, Hubert.

*Hub.* If I talk to him, with his innocent prate

He will awake my Mercy, which lyes dead :

Therefore I will be ſudden, and diſpatch.

*Ar.* Are you ſick, Hubert ? you look pale to day;
Infooth I would you were a little ſick,

That I might fit all night and watch with you.

I warrant I love you more than you do me.

*Hub.* His words do take poſſeffion of my Boſom.

Read here, young Arthur. How now fooliſh rheume?

Turning diſpitious Torture out of door?

I muſt be brief, left Reſolution drop

Out at mine Eyes, in tender Womaniſh Tears;

Can you not read it ? Is it not fair writ ?

*Ar.* Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul Effect,

Muſt you with hot Irons burn out both mine Eyes ?

*Hub.* Young Boy, I muſt.

*Ar.* And will you ?

*Hub.* And I will.

*Ar.* Have you the heart? When your head did but lie
I knit my Hand-kercher about your Brows
(The beſt I had, a Princeſs wrought it me)
And I did never ask it you again:
And with my Hand, at midnight held your Head;
And like the watchful Minutes, to the Hour,
Still and anon cheare'd up the heavy time;
Saying, what lack you ? and where lies your griet
Or what good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor mans Son would have lain ſtill,
And ne're have ſpoke a loving word to you:
But you, at your ſick ſervice had a Prince:
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning. Do, and if you will,
If Heaven be pleas'd, that you muſt uſe me ill,
Why then you muſt. Will you put out mine Eyes
These Eies, that never did, nor never ſhall
So much as frown on you.

*Hub.* I have ſworn to do it,

And with hot Irons muſt I burn them out.

*Ar.* Ah, none but in this Iron age, would do it.
The Iron of it ſelf, though heat red hot,
Approaching near these Eies, would drink my tears,
And quench this ſiery Indignation,

Even in the matter of mine Innocence:

Nay, after that, confume away in Ruſt,

But for containing Fire to harm mine Eye:

Are you more ſtubbom hard, than hammer'd Iron?

And if an Angel ſhould have come to me,

And told me Hubert ſhould put out mine Eyes,

I would not have believ'd him: no Tongue but Hubert

*Hub.* Come forth: Do as I bid you do.

*Ar.* O fave me, Hubert, fave me: my Eies are uſ

Even with the ſieme looks of these bloody men.

*Hub.* Give me the Iron, I fay, and bind him here.

*Ar.* Alas, what need you be ſo boſſterous rough?

I will not ſtruggle, I will ſtand ſtone ſtill :

For Heaven ſake, Hubert, let me not be bound:

Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away,

And I will fit as quiet as a Lamb.

I will not ſtir, nor wince, nor ſpeak a word,

Nor look upon the Iron angerly:

Thruſt but these men away, and I'le forgive you,

What ever torment you do put me to.

*Hub.* Go, ſtand within: let me alone with him.

*Exec.* I am beſt pleas'd to be from ſuch a deed.

*Art.* Alas, I then have chid away my Friend,

He hath a ſtern Look, but a gentle Heart:

Let him come back, that his compaſſion may

Give life to yours.

*Hub.* Come (Boy) prepare your ſelf.

*Ar.* Is there no remedy ?

*Hub.* None, but to lobe your Eyes.

*Art.* O Heaven: that there were bat a Moth in yous

A Grain, a Duſt, a Gnat, a wandring Hair,

Any Annoyance in that precious ſenſe:

Then feeling what ſmall things are boſſterous there,

Your vile intent muſt needs ſeem horrible.

*Hub.* Is this your Promife? Go too, hold your Tongue.

*Ar.* Hubert, the utterance of a brace of Tongues,

Muſt needs want pleading for a pair of Eyes:

Let me not hold my Tongue, let me not, Hubert,

Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my Tongue,

So I may keep mine Eies, O ſpare mine Eies,

Though to no uſe, but ſtill to look on you.

Lo, by my troth, the inſtrument is cold,

And would not harm me.

*Hub.* I can heat it, Boy.

*Ar.* No, in good ſooth, the fire is dead with grief,

Being create for comfort, to be us'd

In undeferred Extreams: ſee eſſe your ſelf,

There is no malice in this burning coal,

The

15

Not painted with the Crimson spots of Blood:
Within this Bofom, never entred yet
The dreadful motion of a murderous thought,
And you have flander'd Nature in my Form,
Which howfoever rude exteriorly,
Is yet the cover of a fairer Mind,
Than to be Butcher of an innocent Child.

*John.* Doth Arthur live ? O haſte thee to the Peers,
Throw this Report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their Obedience.

Forgive the Comment that my Pallion made
Upon thy Feature, for my Rage was blind,
And foul imaginary Eyes of Blood
Prefented thee more hideous than thou art.

Oh, anſwer not ; but to my Cloſet bring
The angry Lords, with all expedient haſte,
I conjure thee but flowly: run more ſaſt.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Tertia.

*Enter Arthur on the Walls.*

*Art.* The wall is high, and yet will I leap down.
Good ground be pitiful, and hurt me not :
There's few or none do know me, if they did,
This Ship-boys ſembiance hath diſguſ'd me quite.
I am afraid, and yet I ple venture it.

If I get down, and do not break my Limbs,
Ile find a thouſand shifts to get away ;
As good to dye, and go ; as dye, and itay.
Oh me, my Uncles ſpirit is in these ſlones,

Oh me, my Uncles ſpirit is in these ſlones,
Heaven take my Soul, and England keep my Bones. [Dies.

*Enter Pembroke, and Salisbury, and Bigot.*

*Sal.* Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmondſbury,
It is our ſafetie, and we must embrace
This gentle Offer of the perillous time.

*Pem.* Who brought that Letter from the Cardinal ?
*Sal.* The Count Melloone, a Noble Lord of France,

*Whofe private with me of the Dolphin's love.
Is much more general than theſe lines import.

*Bigot.* To morrow morning let us meet him then.

*Sal.* Or rather then ſet forward, for ?twill be
Two long days journey (Lords) or e're we meet.

*Enter Baſtard.*

*Baſt.* Once more to day well met, diſtemper'd Lords,
The King by me requeſts your Prefence ſtraight.

*Sal.* The King hath diſpoſſed himſelf of us,
We will not line his thin-beftained clake
With our pure Honours: nor attend the Foot
That leaves the print of Blood where e're it walks.

*Return, and tell him to: we know the worſt.* [beſt.

*Baſt.* What e're you think, good words I think were
*Sal.* Our Griefs, and not our Manners reaſon now.

*Baſt.* But there is little Reaſon in your Grief.
Therefore ?twere Reaſon you had Manners now.

*Pem.* Sir, Sir, impatience hath his Privilege.

*Baſt.* ?Tis true, to hurt his Maſter, no man eſſe.
*Sal.* This is the Prifon: what is he lyes here?

*P.* Oh death made proud with pure and Princely Beauty,
The Earth had not a hole to hide this deed.

*Sal.* Murther, as hating what himſelf hath done,
Doth lay it open to urge on Revenge.

*Big.* Or when he doom'd this Beauty to a Grave,
Found it too precious Princely, for a Grave.

*Sal.* Sir Richard, what think you? have you beheld,
Or have you read, or heard, or could you think ?
Or do you read, although you fee,

That you do ſee ? could Thought, without this Object
Form luch another ? this is the very top,

The heighth, the Creſt; or Creſt into the Creſt

*Of Murthers Arms: this is the bloodied flame,
The wildeſt Savagery, the vileſt ſtoke
That ever wall-ey'd Wrath, or ſtaring Rage
Prefented to the Tears of Joff Remorſe.*

*Pem.* All Murthers pait, do ſtand excus'd in this:
And this ſo ſole, and ſo unmatchable,

Shall give a holineſs, a purity,
To the yet unbegotten ſin of times ;
And prove a deadly blood-ſhed, but a Jeaſt,
Exampl'd by this heinous Spectacle.

*Baſt.* It is a damned, and a bloody Work,
The graceleſs action of a heavy hand,
If that it be the work of any hand.

*Sal.* If that it be the work of any hand ?
We had a kind of light, what would eſſue :

It is the flameful work of Hubert's hand,

The practise, and the purpose of the King:

From whole Obedience I forbid my Soul,
Kneeling before this Ruine of ſweet Life,
And breathing to his breathleſs Excellence

The Incenle of a Vow, a holy Vow:

Never to tafle the Pleasures of the World,

Never to be infected with Delight,

Nor converſant with Eale, and Iſlenefs,

Till I have et a glory to this Hand,

By giving it the Worſhip of Revenge.

*Pem.* Big. Our fouls Religiously confirm thy words.

*Enter Hubert.*

*Hub.* Lords, I am hot with haſte, in ſeeking you,
Arthur doth live, the King hath ſent for you.

*Sal.* Oh he is bold, and bluſhes not at death :

Avant thou hateſul Villain, get thee gone.

*Hub.* I am no Villain.

*Sal.* Mult I rob the Law ?

*Baſt.* Your Sword is bright, Sir, put it up again.

*Sal.* Not till I ſineth it in a Murtherer's skin.

*Hub.* Stand back, Lord Salisbury, ſtand back, I ſay,
By Heaven, I think my Sword's as lharp as yours.

I would not have you (Lord) forget your ſelf,

Nor tempt the Danger of my true Defence ;

Left I, by marking of your rage, forget

Your Worth, your Greatneſs, and Nobility.

*Big.* Out Dunghill, dar't thou brave a Nobleman?

*Hub.* Not for my life: but yet I dare defend

My innocent life againſt an Emperor.

*Sal.* Thou art a Murtherer.

*Hub.* Do not prove me to:

Yet I am none. Whole tongue ſo e're ſpeaks ſalſe,

Not truly ſpeaks: who ſpeaks not truly, Lies.

*Pem.* Cut him to pieces.

*Baſt.* Keep the peace, I ſay.

*Sal.* Stand by, or I ſhall gaul you Fauconbridge.

*Baſt.* Thou wert better gaul the Devil Salisbury.

If thou but trown on me, or ſir thy foot,

Or teach thy haſty Sp孔 to do me ſhame,

Ile ſtrike the dead. Put up thy Sword betime.

Or Ile p ſo manl you, and your toiling-Iron,

That you ſhall think the Devil is come from Hell.

*Big.* What witt thou do, renowned Fauconbridge ?

Second a Villain, and a Murtherer ?

*Hub.* Lord Bigot, I am none.

*Big.* Who kill'd this Prince?

*Hub.* ?Tis not an hour ſince I left him well :

I honour'd him, I lov'd him, and will weep

My date of life out, for his sweet lives lots.

*Sal.* Truſt not that ſunning Waters of his Eyes,

For Villany is not without ſuch Rheume,

And he long traded in it, makes it ſeem

Like Rivers of Remorſe and Innocency.

Away with me, all you whoſe fouls abhor

Th'uncleanly favour of a flaighter-houſe,

For I am ſtified with the smell of ſin.

*Big.* Away toward Bury, to the Dolphin there.

*P.* There tell the King he may enquire us out. [Ex. Lords.

C C 2

*Baſt.*

Ba. Here's a good World: knew you of this fair Work?
Beyond the infinite and boundleſs reach of Mercy,
(If thou did'ſt this deed of death) thou art damn'd, Hubert.

Hub. Do but hear me, Sir.

Baſt. Ha ? I'le tell thee what.

Thou'rt damn'd as black, nay nothing is ſo black,
Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Lucifer.

There is not yet ſo ugly a Fiend of Hell
As thou ſhalt be, if thou did'ſt kill this Child.

Hub. Upon my Soul.

Baſt. It thou did'ſt but confent

To this moſt cruel Act: do but defpair,
And if thou want'ſt a Cord, the ſmallest threed
That ever Spider twiſted from her Womb
Will ſerve to iſtrangle thee: A ruff will be a Beam
To hang thee on. Or would'ſt thou drown thy ſelf,
Puc but a little Water in a Spoon,

And it ſhall be as all the Ocean,
Enough to ſtifle ſuch a Villain up.
I do ſuſpect thee very grievouſly.

Hub. If I in Act, confent, or fin of thought,
Be guilty of the ſtealing that sweet Breath
Which was embounded in this Beauteous Clay,
Let Hell want pains enough to torture me:
I left him well.

Baſt. Go, bear him in thine Arms:

I am amaz'd methinks, and loſe my way
Among the Thorns, and Dangers of this World.
How eafe doſt thou take all England up,
From forth this Morſel of dead Royalty ?

The Life, the Right, and Truth of all this Realm
Is ſled to Heaven: and England now is left
To tug and ſamble, and to part by th'Teeth
The unowed intereſt of proud ſwelling State:

Now for the bare-pickt bone of Majeſtyle,
Doth dogged War brifle his angry Creel,

And ſnareleth in the gentle Eyes of Peace :

Now Powers from home, and Difcontents at home
Meet in one Line: and vaſt Conſuſion waits
As doth a Raven on a ſick-fallen Beaſt,
The imminent decay of wrefted Pomp.

Now happy he, whole Cloak and Center can
Hold out this tempeſt. Bear away that Child,

And follow me with ſpeed; I'le to the King:
A thouand buſineſſes are brief in hand,

And Heaven it ſelf doth frown upon the Land.

[Exit.]

Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.

Enter King John and Pandulph, Attendants.

K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand

The Circle of my Glory.

Pand. Take again

From this my hand, as holding of the Pope,
Your Soveraign Greatneſs and Authority.

John. Now keep your holy word, go meet the French,
And from his Holines ſuſe all your Power
To ſtop their Marches ? fore we are enflam'd:
Our diſcontented Counties do revolt:
Our people quarrel with Obedience,
Swearing Allegiance, and the love of Soul
To ſtranger-blood, to foreign Royalty;
This inundation of miſtempered humour,
Reſts by you only to be qualified.

Then paſſe not; for the preſent time's ſo ſick,
That preſent Med'cine must be minitred,
Or overthrow incurably enfues.

Pand. It was my breath that blew this Tempeſt up,
Upon your ſtubborn ſusage of the Pope:
But ſince you are a gentle Convertite.
My Tongue ſhall hulh again this Storm of War,

And make fair Weather in your bluſtring Land:
On this Aſſenſion day, remember well,
Upon your Oath of ſervice to the Pope,
Go I to make the French lay down their Arms.

John. Is this Aſſenſion day ? did not the Prophet
Say, that before Aſſenſion day at noon,
My Crown I ſhould give off ? even ſo I have:
I did ſuppoſe it ſhould be on conſtraint,
But (Heav'n be thank'd) it is but Voluntary.

Enter Baſtard.

Baſt. All Kent hath yielded, nothing there holds out
But Dover Caſſle: London hath receiv'd,
Like a kind Hoft, the Dolphin and his Powers,
Your Nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer ſervice to your Enemy.

And wild Amazement hurries up and down
The little number of doubtful Friends.

John. Would not my Lords return to me again
After they heard young Arthur was alive?

Baſt. They found him dead, and caſt into the fiſtres
An empty Casket, where the Jewel of life
By ſome damn'd hand was rob'd and tane away.

John. That Villain Hubert told me he did live.

Baſt. So on my Soul he did, for ought he knew:
But wherefore do you droop ? why look you ſad ?

Be great in Act, as you have been in Thought:
Let not the world fee Fear and ſad Difſuſt

Govern the motion of a Kingly Eye:

Be ſtirring as the time, be fire with fire,
Threaten the threatner, and out-face the Brow
Of bragging Horror: So ſhall inferior Eyes

That borrow their Behaviours from the Great,
Grow great by your Example, and put on
The dauntleſs Spirit of Reſolution.

Away, and glifter like the God of War
When he intendeth to become the Field:

Shew boldneſs and alpiring Confidence:

What, ſhall they ſeeke the Lyon in his Den,
And fright him there? and make him tremble there?

Oh let it not be ſad: forrage, and run
To meet diſpleasure farther from the doors,
And grapple with him ere he come ſo nigh.

John. The Legat of the Pope hath been with me,
And I have made a happy Peace with him,
And he hath promis'd to diſmiſs the Powers
Led by the Dolphin.

Baſt. Oh inglorious League:

Shall we upon the footing of our Land,
Send fair-play-orders, and make promiſe.

Inſuation, parley, and baſe truce
To Arms Invaſive ? Shall a beardleſſs Boy,

A cockred-filken Wanton brave our Fields,
And fleſh his Spirit in a War-like Soil,
Mocking the air with Colours idely ſpread,
And find no check ? Let us my Liege to Arms:

Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your Peace;
Or if he do, let it at leaſt be ſad

They ſaw we had a purpofe of defence.

John. Have thou the ordering of this preſent time.

Baſt. Away then with good Courage: yet I know
Our Party may well meet a prouder Foe.

[Exen.]

Scena Secunda.

Enter (in Arms) Dolphin, Salisbury, Melloon, Pembroke,
Bigot, Souldiers.

Dol. My Lord Melloon, let this be copied out,
And keep it ſafe for our remembrance :
Return the Preſident to theſe Lords again,
That having our fair Order written down,
Both they and we, perufing o're theſe Notes

Mito

["18", "The Life and Death of King John.", "That in your Chambers gave you Chaftissement?", "No, know the gallant Monarch is in Arms,\nAnd like an Eagle, o're his aery Tower,", "To foonle Annoyance that comes near his Neft;\nAnd you degenerate, you ingrate Revolts,", "You bloody Nero's ripping up the Womb", "Of your dear Mother-England: blush for shame:", "For your own Ladies, and Pale-vifug'd Maids", "Like Amazons, come tripping after Drums :", "Their Thimbles into armed Gantlets change,", "Their Needles to Lances, and their gentle Hearts", "To fierce and bloody inclination,", "", "", "Dol. There end thy Brave, and turn thy Face in Peace,\nWe grant thou cant not out-fold us: fare thee well,", "We hold our time too precious to be spent", "With much a Brabler.", "Pau. Give me leave to fpeak.", "Baft. No, I will fpeak.", "Dol. We will attend to neither:", "Strike up the Drums, and let the Tongue of VVar\nPlead for our Intereft, and our being here.", "Baft. Indeed your Drums being beaten, will cry out ?", "And so shall you, being beaten: do but flart", "An eccho with the Clamour of thy Drum,", "And even at hand, a Drum is ready brac'd,", "That shall reverberate all, as loud as thine.", "Sound but another, and another shall", "(As loud as thine) rattle the Welkin's Ear,", "And mock the deep-mouth'd Thunder: for at hand", "(Not trufting to this halting Legat here)", "Whom he hath us'd rather for fport than need?", "Is warlike John: and in his forehead fits", "A bare-rib'd death, whose Office is this day", "To feaft upon whole thoufands of the French.", "Dol. Strike up our Drums, to find this danger out.", "Baft. And thou fhalt find it (Dolphin) do not doubt.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Scena Tertia.", "Alarms. Enter John, and Hubert:", "John. How goes the day with us? oh tell me, Hubert.", "Hub. Badly, I fear; how fares your Majefty?", "John. This Feaver that hath troubled me fo long,", "Lyes heavy on me: oh, my heart is fick.", "Enter a Meffenger.", "Meff. My Lord: your Valiant Kinſman, Faulconbridge,\nDeſires your Majeſt to leave the Field,", "And ſend him word by me, which way you go.", "John. Tell him, toward Swinſted, to the Abby there.", "Meff. Be of good comfort: for the great Supply,", "That was expected by the Dolphin here,", "Are wrack'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.", "This News was brought to Richard but even now,", "The French fight coldly, and retire themſelves.", "John. Aye me, this Tyrant Feaver burns me up,", "And will not let me welcome this good News.", "Set on, toward Swinſted: to my Litter ſtreight,", "Weakneſs poſſeſſeth me, and I am faint.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Scena Quarta.", "Enter Sailisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot.", "Sal. I did not think the King ſo ſtor'd with Friends.", "Pem. Up once again: put Spirit in the French,", "If they miſcarry, we miſcarry too.", "Sal. That misbegotten Devil Faulconbridge,", "In ſpight of ſpight, alone upholds the day.", "Pem. They fay King John, ſore ſick, hath left the Field.\nEnter Meloon wounded.", "Mel. Lead me to the Revolts of England here.", "Sal. When we were happy, we had other Names.", "Pem. It is the Count Meloon.", "Sal. Wounded to death.", "Mel. Fly, Noble English, you are bought and fold,", "Unthreod the rude Eye of Rebellion,", "And welcom home again diſcarded Faith,", "Seek out King John, and fall before his feet :", "For if the French be Lords of this loud day,", "He means to recompence the Pains you take,", "By cutting off your Heads: thus hath he ſworn,", "And I with him, and many more with me,", "Upon the Altar at St. Edmondsbury,", "Even on that Altar, where we ſwore to you", "Dear Amity, and everlaſting Love.", "Sal. May this be poſſible? May this be true?", "Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view,", "Retaining but a quantity of life,", "Which bleeds away, even as a Form of Wax", "Reſolveth from his Figure 'gainſt the Fire?", "What in the world ſhould make me now deceive,", "Since I muſt lobe the uſe of all deceit ?", "Why ſhould I then be ſalſe, ſince it is true", "That I muſt die here, and live hence, by truth?", "I fay again, if Lewis do win the day,", "He is forſworn, if O're those Eyes of yours", "Behold another Day break in the Eaſt:", "But even this Night, whoſe black contagious breath", "Already ſmoaks about the burning Creſt", "Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied Sun,", "Even this ill night, your breathing ſhall expire,", "Paying the Fine of rated Treachery,", "Even with a treacherous Fine of all your lives:", "If Lewis, by your alliſtance win the day.", "Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;", "The love of him, and this reſpect beſides", "(For that my Grandfire was an Englishman)", "Awakes my Conſience to confefs all this.", "In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence", "From forth the noife and rumour of the Field;", "Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts", "In peace: and part this Body and my Soul,", "With Contemplation, and devout Deſires.", "Sal. We do believe thee, and beſtrew my Soul,", "But I do love the favour, and the form", "Of this moſt fair occafion, by the which", "We will untread the ſteps of damned flight,", "And like a bated and retired flood,", "Leaving our rankneſs, and irregular courſe,", "Stoop low within thate Bounds we have o're-look'd,", "And calmly run on in Obedience,", "Even to our Ocean, to our great King John.", "My Arm ſhall give thee help to bear thee hence,", "For I do fee the cruel Pangs of death", "Right in thine Eye. Away, my Friends, new flight,", "And happy newneſs that intends old right.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Scena Quinta.", "Enter Dolphin and his Train.", "Dol. The Sun of Heaven (methought) was loth to ſtole\nBut ſtaid, and mede the Weſtern Welkin bluſh.\nWhen English measure backward their own ground", "In faint retire: Oh bravely came we off.", "VVhen with a Voley of our needleſs ſtor,", {"bbox":

19

Enter a Messanger.

Mef. Where is my Prince, the Dolphin?

Dol. Here, what News?

Mef. The Count Melloone is flain: The English Lords.

By his perfwation are at length faln off,
And your Supply, which you have wiff'd so long,
Are caft away, and funk on Goodwin Sands.

Dol. Ah foul fhew'd News. Behrew thy very heart:
I did not think to be so fad to Night
As this hath made me. Who was he that faid?

King John did fly an hour or two before

The flumbling Night did part our weary Powers?
Mef. Who ever spoke it, it is true, my Lord.

Dol. Well: keep good Quarter, and good care to Night,

The Day fhall not be up so foon as I,
To try the fair Adventure of to Morrow.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Baftard and Hubert severally.

Hub. Who's there? Speak, hoa, Ipeak quickly, or I fhoot.
Baff. A Friend. What art thou?

Hub. Of the part of England.

Baff. Whither doft thou go?

Hub. What's that to thee?

Why may not I demand of thine Affairs,
As well as thou of mine?

Baff. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou haft a perfect thought:

I will upon all hazzards well believe

Thou art my Friend, that know't my Tongue fo well:
Who art thou?

Baff. Who thou wift: and if thou pleafe
Thou maift be-friend me fo much, as to think

I come one way of the Plantagenets.

Hub. Unkind Remembrance: thou, and endleſs night,
Have done me ſhame: brave Souldier, pardon me,

That any accent breaking from thy Tongue,
Should ſcapc the true acquaintance of mine ear.

Baff. Come, come: fans complement, What News abroad?

Baff. Why here walk I, in the black Brow of Night,
To find you out.

Baff. Brief then: and what's the News?

Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitting to the Night,

Black, fearful, comfortleſs, and horrible.

Hub. Shew me the very wound of this ill News,

I am no Woman, I'le not fwoon at it.

Hub. The King I fear is poyfon'd by a Monk,
I left him almoſt Ipeakleſs, and broke out

To acquaint you with this Evil, that you might

The better Arm you to the fudden time,
Than if you had at leifure known of this.

Baff. How did he take it? Who did taſte to him?

Hub. A. Monk, I tell you, a refolved Villain,

Whofe Bowels suddenly burſt out: The King
Yet ſpeaks, and peradventure may recover.

Baff. Who didft thou leave to tend his Majeſty?

Hub. Why, know you not? the Lords are all come back:
And brought Prince Henry in their company,
At whose requeſt the King hath pardon'd them,
And they are all about his Majeſty.

Baff. With-hold thine Indignation, mighty Heaven,
And tempt us not to bear above our Power.

Ile tell thee, Hubert, half my Power this Night
Paſſing theſe Flats, are taken by the Tide,

Theſe Lincoln-Waſhes have devoured them,
My ſelf, well mounted, have eſcap'd.

Away before: Conduct me to the King,
I doubt he will be dead, or e're I come.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Septima.

Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot

Hen. It is too late, the life of all his Blood
Is touch'd corruptibly: and his pure Brain
(Which fome fuppofe the Soul's frail dwelling houſe)
Doth by the idle Comments that it makes,
Foretell the ending of Mortality.

Enter Pembroke.

Pem. His Highneſs yet doth Ipeak, and holds belief,
That being brought into the open air,

It would allay the burning quality

Of that fell Poyſon which affaileth him.

Hen. Let him be brought into the Orchard here;
Doth he ſtill rage?

Pem. He is more patient

Than when you left him; even now he ſung.

Hen. Oh vanity of Sickness, fierce Extreams

In their continuance will not feel themſelves.

Death having prey'd upon the outward parts

Leaves them invisible, and her ſiege is now

Againſt the Wind, the which he pricks and wounds

With many Legions of ſtrange Fantasies,

Which in their throng and preſs to that laſt hold,

Conſound themſelves. 'Tis ſtrange that death ſhould ſing:

I am the Symet to this pale ſaſt Swan.

Who chaunts a doleful Hymn to his own death,

And from the Organ-pipe of frailty ſings

His Soul and Body their laſting, reſt.

Sal. Be of good comfort (Prince) for you are born
To fet a form upon that indigent

Which he hath left ſo ſhapeleſs and ſo rude.

John brought in.

John. I marry now my Soul hath elbow-room,
It would not out at windows, nor at doors,

There is ſo hot a Summer in my Boſom,

That all my Bowels crumble up to Duſt:

I am a ſcribled Form drawn with a Pen,

Upon a Parchment, and againſt this fire do I ſhrink up.

Hen. How fares your Majeſty?

John. Poyſon'd, ill ſair: dead, forſook, caſt off,

And none of you will bid the Winter come

To thrufi his Icic Fingers in my Maw;

Nor let my Kingdoms Rivers take their courfe

Through my burn'd Boſom: nor intreat the North

To make his bleak winds kifs my parched lips,

And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much,
I beg cold comfort: and you are ſo ſtraight
And ſo ungrateful, you deny me that.

Hen. Oh that there were ſome Virtue in my Tears,
That might relieve you.

John. The Salt of them is hot:

Within me is a Hell, and there the Poyſon

Is, as a Fiend, confin'd to ſtyrannize,

On unrepreevable condemned Blood.

Enter Bastard.

Baff. Oh, I am ſcal'd with my violent Motion
And Spleen of Speed to fee your Majeſty.

John. Oh Couſin, thou are come to ſet mine Eye:
The Tackle of my Heart is crackt and burnt,
And all the ſhrowds wherewith my life ſhould fail,
Are turned to one threed, one little hair:

My Heart hath one poor ſtring to ſtay it by,

Which holds but till thy News be uttered,

And then all this thou ſeet, is but a Clod,

And module of confounded Royalty.

Baff. The Dolphin is preparing hitherward,
Where Heaven he knows how we ſhall anſwer him.

For in a night the beſt part of my Power,

As I upon advantage did remove,

Were

20

Were in the Wauhes all, unwarily,
Devoured by the unexpected Flood.

*Sal.* You breath thefe dead News in as dead an Ear;
My Liege, my Lord: but now a King, now thus.
*Hen.* Even so muft I run on, and even so stop.
What furety of the World, what hope, what ſtay,
When this was now a King, and now is Clay ?
*Baſt.* Art thou gone ſo ? I do but ſtay behind
To do the Office for thee, of Revenge,
And then my Soul ſhall wait on thee to Heaven,
As it on Earth hath been thy Servant ſtill.
Now, now you Stars, that move in your right Spheres,
Where be your Powers ? Shew now your mended Faiths,
And infantly return with me again,
To pufh Deftruction, and perpetual Shame
Out of the weak door of our fainting Land :
Straight let us feek, or ſtreight we ſhall be fought,
The *Dolphin* rages at our very heels.

*Sal.* It feems you know not then so much as we,
The Cardinal *Pandolph* is within at reſt,
Who half an hour ſince came from the *Dolphin*,
And brings from him ſuch Offers of our Peace,
As we with Honour and Reſpect may take,
With purpofe prefently to leave this War.
*Baſt.* He will the rather do it, when he fees
Our ſelves well finew'd to our Defence.

*Sal.* Nay, ?tis in a manner done already,
For many Carriages he hath dispatch'd
To the Sea-side, and put his Caufe and Quarrel

To the diſpofing of the Cardinal,
With whom your ſelf, my ſelf, and other Lords,
If you think meet, this Afternoon will poff
To confummate this bufineſs happily.

*Baſt.* Let it be ſo, and you, my Noble Prince,
With other Princes that may beſt be ſpar'd,
Shall wait upon your Father's Funeral.

*Hen.* At Worceſer muſt his Body be interr'd,
For so he will'd it.

*Baſt.* Thither ſhall it then,
And happily may your ſweet ſelf put on
The lineal ſtate, and glory of the Land,
To whom with all ſubſtiffion on my Knee,
I do bequeath my faithful Services
And true Subjeſtion everlaſtingly.

*Sal.* And the like tender of our love we make
To reſt without a ſpot for evermore.

*Hen.* I have a kind Soul that would give thanks,
And knows not how to do it but with Tears.

*Baſt.* Oh let us pay the time: but needful Wo,
Since it hath been before hand with our griefs.

This England never did, nor never ſhall

Lye at the proud foot of a Conqueror,

But when it firſt did help to wound it ſelf.

Now, theſe her Princes are come home again,

Come the three Corners of the world in Arms,

And we ſhall ſhock them: Nought ſhall make us rue,

If England to it ſelf, do reſt but true.

[Exodus]

THE
LIFE and DEATH
OF
KING RICHARD II.

*Actus Primus, Scæna Prima.*

*Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles and Attendants.*

King Richard.

Ld John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaſter,
Halt thou according to thy Oath and Band,
Brought hither Henry Hereſord thy bold Son :
Here to make good the boſterous late Appeal,
Which then our leifure would not let us hear,
Againſt the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ?

Gaunt. I have, my Liege.

*King.* Tell me moreover, haſt thou founded him;
If he Appeal the Duke on ancient Malice,
Or worthily, as good Subjeſt ſhould,

On ſome known ground of Treachery in him ?

*Gaunt.* As near as I could ſift him on that Argument,

On ſome apparent Danger ſeen in him,
Aim'd at your Highneſs, no inveterate Malice.

*King.* Then call them to our Prefence face to face,
And frowning brow to brow, our ſelves will hear
Th'Accuſer, and the Accuſed freely ſpeak ;
High ſtomack'd are they both, and full of ire.
In rage, deaf as the Sea; haſty as Fire.

*Enter Bullingbrook and Mowbray.*

*Bull.* Many years of happy daies befall
My gracious Soveraign, my moſt loving Liege.
*Mow.* Each day fill better others hapineſs,

Until the Heavens envying Earths good hap,
Add an immortal Title to your Crown.

*King.* We thank you both, yet one but flatters us,
As well appeareth by the Caufe you come,

Namely

22 The Life and Death of King Richard the Second.

**King.** Rage must be withstood:
Give me his Gage: Lyons make Leopards tame.
Mow. Yea, but not change my Spots: take but my flame,
And I resign my Gage. My dear, dear Lord,
The purest Treasure mortal times afford,
Is spotless Reputation: that away,
Men are but gilded Loam, or painted Clay.
A Jewel in a ten-times barr'd up Cheft,
Is a bold Spirit in a Loyal Breast.
Mine Honour is my life; both grow in one:
Take Honour from me, and my life is done.
Then (dear my Liege) mine Honour let me try,
In that I live; and for that will I dye.

**King.** Coulin, throw down your Gage, Do you begin.
**But.** Oh Heaven defend my Soul from such foul fin.
Shall I feem Creft-faln in my Father's fight,
Or with pale beggar'd Fear impeach my hight
Before this out-dar'd Daftard? E're my Tongue
Shall wound my Honour with such feeble Wrong;
Or found so base a parle: my Teeth shall tear
The flavish Motive of recanting Fear,
And spilt it bleeding in his high difgrace,
Where flame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's Face.

[Exit Gaunt.]

**King.** We were not born to fue, but to Command,
Which ſince we cannot do to make you Friends,
Be ready, (as your lives ſhall anſwer it)
At Coventrey, upon Saint Lambert's day:
There ſhall your Swords and Lances arbitrate
The ſwelling Difference of your feted Hate:
Since we cannot attone you, you ſhall fee
Juſtice design the Victor's Chivalry.

Lord Marſhal command our Officers at Arms,
Be ready to direct the ſeſte home Alarms.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Gaunt, and Dutchefs of Gloſter.

**Gaunt.** Alas, the part I had in Gloſter's blood,
Doth more ſolicite me than your Exclaims,
To ſtir againſt the Butchers of his life.
But ſince Correction lyeth in thofe Hands
Which made the Fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our Quarrel to the Will of Heaven,
Who when they fee the Hours ripe on Earth,
Will rain hot Vengeance on Offenders heads.

**Dut.** Finds Brotherhood in thee no ſharper ſpurt?
Hath love in thy old Blood no living fire?
Edward's ſeven Sons (whereof thy ſelf art one)
Were as ſeven Vials of his Sacred Blood.

Or ſeven fair Branches ſpringing from one Root:
Some of thofe ſeven are driſt by Natures Courſe,
Some of thofe Branches by the Deſtinies cut:
But Thomas, my dear Lord, my life, my Gloſter;
One Vial full of Edward's Sacred Blood,

One flourishing Branch of his moſt Royal Root
is crack'd, and all the precious Liquor spilt;
is hackt down, and his Summer Leaves all faded
By Envie's hand, and Murder's Bloody Axe.
Ah Gaunt? His Blood was thine, that Bed, that Womb,
That Mettle, that Self-mould that falſhion'd thee,
Made him a Man: And though thou livſt and breath'd ſt;
Yet art thou flain in him: thou doſt confent
In ſome large meaſure to thy Father's death,
In that thou feeſt thy wretched Brother die,
Who was the Model of thy Father's life,
Call it not Patience (Gaunt) it is Defpair,
nuffering thus thy Brother to be flaunder'd,
Thou ſhew'dt the naked Pathway to thy life,
Teaching ſtern Murther how to butcher thee:

That which in mean men, we intitle Patience
Is pale cold Cowardice in noble Breaths:
What ſhall I lay, to ſafegard thine own life,
The belt way to venge my Gloſter's death.

**Gaunt.** Heavens is the Quarrel: for Heaven's Subſtitute
His Deputy anointed in his fight,
Hath cauſ'd his death, the which if wrongfully
Let Heaven Revenge: for I may never lift
An angry Arm againſt his Minifter.

**Dut.** Where then (alas) may I complain my self?

**Gaunt.** To Heaven, the VVidows Champion to defend.

**Dut.** Why then I will: farewell old Gaunt.

Thou goſt to Coventrey, there to behold

Our Coulin Hereford, and fell Mowbray fight:
O fit my Husbands Wrongs on Hereford's Spear,
That it may enter Butcher Mowbray's breast:

Or if Misfortune miſs the firſt Carreer,
Be Mowbray's fins ſo heavy in his Bofom,
That they may break his foaming Courſers back,
And throw the Rider headlong in the Lifts,
A Caytiff recreant to my Coulin Hereford,
Farewell old Gaunt, thy ſomtimes Brother's Wife
With her Companion Grief muſt end her life.

**Gaunt.** Sifter farewell: I muſt to Coventrey,
As much good ſlay with thee, as go with me.

**Dut.** Yet one word more, Grief boundeth where it fall.

Not with the empty hollowefs but weight:
I take my leave, before I have begun,

For Sorrow ends not: when I feeth me ſone.

Commend me to my Brother, Edward York,

Lo, this is all: nay yet depart not ſo,

Though this be all, do not ſo quickly go,
I ſhall remember more. Bid him, Oh, what?

With all good ſpeed at Plafhe viſit me.

Alack, and what ſhall good old York, there fee
But empty Lodgings, and unfurniſhed Walls,
Un-people'd Offices, untrodden Stones?
And what hear there for Welcome, but my Groans?

Therefore commend me, let him not come there
To ſEEK out Sorrow that dwells every where;
Defoliate, defolate will I hence, and dye,
The laſt leave of thee, takes my weeping Eye.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Marſhal and Aumerle.

**Mar.** My L. Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?

**Aum.** Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

**Mar.** The Duke of Norfolk, ſprightful and bold,
Stays but the Summons of the Appealants Trumpet.

**Au.** Why then the Champions are prepar'd and ſat
For nothing but his Majesties approach.

[Flawed.]

Enter King, Gaunt, Buſhy, Bagot, Green, and others:
Then Mowbray in Armour, and Harrold.

**Rich.** Marſhal, demand of yonder Champion
The Caufe of his arrival here in Arms,
Ask him his Name, and orderly proceed
To ſwear him in the Juſtice of his Caufe.

**Mar.** In God's Name, and the Kings, ſay who thou art:
And why thou com'st, thus Knightly clad in Arms?
Again what man thou com'st, and what's thy Quarrel,
Speak truly on thy Kingdomthood, and thine Oath,
As ſo defend thee Heaven, and thy Valour.

**Mow.** My Name is Tho. Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
Who hither come engaged by my Oath,
(Which Heaven defend a Knight ſhould violate)
Both to defend my Loyalty and Truth,
To God, my King, and his succeeding Illue,

Against

The Life and Death of King Richard the second.

23

Against the Duke of Hereford, that Appeals me:
And by the Grace of God and this mine Arm,
To prove him (in defending of my self)
A Traitor to my God, my King, and me;
And as I truly fight, defend me Heaven.

Tacket. Enter Hereford, and Harold.

Rich. Marfhal : Ask yonder Knight in Arms,
Both who he is, and why he cometh hither,
Thus placed in Habilments of War :
And formally according to our Law
Depose him in the Justice of his Caufe.

Mar. What is thy Name, and wherefore com'st thou hither
Before King Richard, in his Royal Lifts ?
Against whom com'st thou ? and what's thy Quarrel ?
Speak like a true Knight, so defend thee Heaven.

Bull. Harry of Hereford, Lancafter, and Darby,
Am I, who ready here do stand in Arms,
To prove by Heaven's grace, my Body's Valour,
In Lifts, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk,
That he's a Traitor foul and dangerous,
To God of Heaven, King Richard, and to me,
And as I truly fight, defend me Heaven.

Mar. On pain of Death, no perfon be so bold,
Or daring hardy, as to touch the Lifts,
Except the Marhal, and such Officers
Appointed to direct thefe fair Deigns.

Bull. Lord Marfhal, let me kifs my Soveraign's Hand,
And bow my Knee before his Majefty :
For Mowbray and my self are like two men,
That vow a long and weary Pilgrimage,
Then let us take a ceremonious Leave
And loving Farewel of our several Friends.

Mar. The Appealant in all duty greets your Highneſs,
And craves to kifs your hands, and take his leave.

Rich. We will defend and fold him in our arms.
Coufin of Hereford, as thy Caufe is juſt,
So be thy Fortune in this Royal Fight :
Farewel, my Blood, which if to day thou ſhed,
Lament me may, but not Revenge thee dead.

Bull. Oh let no noble Eye prophane a Tear
For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's Spear :
As confident, as is the Faulcon's flight
Against a Bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving Lord, I take my leave of you,
Of you (my noble Coufin) Lord Aumerle :
Not ſick, although I have to do with death,
But lufty, young, and chearly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English Feaſts, so I regreet
The daintieſt laſt, to make the end moſt sweet.
Oh thou the Earthy Author of my Blood,
Whose youthful Spirit in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up
To reach at Victory above my Head,
Add proof unto mine Armour with thy Prayers,
And with thy Bleffings ſeel my Lances Point,
That it may enter Mowbray's Waxen Coat,
And furniſh new the Name of John a Gaunt
Even in the luſty 'haviour of his Son.

Gaunt. Heaven in thy good Caufe make thee profp'rous,
Be Swift like Lightning in the Execution,
And let thy Blows doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the Cask
Of thy amaz'd pernicious Enemy.

Rouze up thy youthful Blood, be Valiant, and live.

Bull. Mine Innocence, and St. George to thrive.
Mow. How ever Heaven or Fortune caſt my Lot,
There lives, or dies, true to King Richard's Throre,
A Loyal, Juſt, and Upright Gentleman :
Never did Captain with a freer heart
Caſt off his Chains of Bondage, and embrace
His golden uncontroſt'd Enfranchiſement,
More than my dancing Soul doth celebrate

This feaſt of Battle, with mine Adverſary.
Moft mighty Liege, and my Companion Peers;
Take from my mouth, the wifh of happy years,
As gentle, and as jocond, as to jeaſt,
Go I to fight: Truth hath a quiet breaf.

Rich. Farewel, my Lord, securely I eſpy
Vertue with Valour, couched in thine Eye:
Order the Trial Marſhal, and begin.
Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaſter and Darby,
Receive thy Launce, and Heaven defend thy Right.

Bull. Strong as a Tower, in hope, I cry Amen.

Mar. Go bear this Launce to Thomas Duke of Norfolk.

1. Harry of Hereford, Lancaſter and Darby,
Stands here for God, his Soveraign, and Himſelf,
On pain to be found falſe and recreant,

To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A Traitor to his God, his King, and him,
And dares him to fet forward to the fight.

2. Har. Here ſtandeth Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk
On pain to be found falſe and recreant,
Both to defend himſelf, and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaſter, and Darby,
To God, his Soveraign, and to him diſlay :
Couragioſly, and with a free defire,

Attending but the Signal to begin.

A charge founded.
Mar. Sound Trumpets, and fet forward Combatants:
Stay, the King hath thrown his Warder down.

Rich. Let them lay by their Helmets, and their Spears,
And both return back to their Chairs again:
Withdraw with us, and let the Trumpets found,
While we return theſe Dukes what we decree.

Draw near, and lift

What with our Council we have done.

For that our Kingdoms Earth ſhould not be ſoild
With that dear Blood which it hath ſoſtered,
And for our eyes do hate the dire apſpect

Of Civil Wounds plough'd up with Neighbours Swords,
Which ſo rouz'd up with boſterous untun'd Drums,
With harſh refounding Trumpets dreadful bray,
And grating ſhock of wrathful Iron Arms,
Might from our quiet Confines fright fair Peace,
And make us wade even in our Kindreds Blood :
Therefore, we baniſh you our Territories.
You Coufin Hereford, upon pain of death,
Till twice five Summers have enrich'd our Fields,
Shall not regret our fair Dominions,

But tread the ſtranger Paths of Banifhment.

Bull. Your will be done: This muſt my Comfort be,
That Sun that warms you here, ſhall ſhine on me :
And thofe his golden Beans to you here lent,
Shall point on me, and gild my Banifhment.

Rich. Norfolk: for thee remains a heavier Doorn,
Which I with ſome unwillingneſs pronounce,
The flye flow Hours ſhall not determinate
The dateleſs limit of thy dear Exile :
The hopeleſs word, of never to return,
Breathe I againſt thee, upon pain of life.

Mow. A heavy Sentence, my moſt Soveraign Liege,
And all unlook'd for from your Highneſs mouth :
A dearer Merit, not ſo deep a Maim,
As to be caſt forth in the common air
Have I deſerved at your Highneſs hands.

The Language I have learn'd theſe forty years
(My native English) now I muſt forgo,
And now my Tongues uſe is to me no more,
Than an unſtringed Viol, or a Harp,

Or like a cunning Inſtrument cas'd up,
Or being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Within my Mouth you have engoal'd my Tongue,
Doubly perculliſ'd with my Teeth and Lips,

And dull, unfeeling, barren Ignorance,
Is made my Goaler to attend on me :

I am

25

Oh had thy Grandfier with a Prophets Eye,
Seen how his Son's Son should destroy his Sons,
From forth thy reach he would have laid thy flame,
Deposing thee before thou wert poffeft,
Which art poffeft now to depose thy self,
Why (Coulin) wert thou Regent of the world,
It were a flame to let this Land by leafe:
But for thy world enjoying but this Land,
Is it not more than flame, to flame it so?
Landlord of England art thou, and not King:
Thy flate of Law, is bondflave to the Law,
And—

Rich. And thou, a lunatick lean-witted Fool,
Prefuming on an Agues privileged,
Dar'ft with thy frozen Admonition
Make pale our cheek, chafing the Royal Blood
With fury, from his Native Refidence;
Now by my Seats right Royal Majefly,
Wert thou not Brother to great Edward's Son,
This Tongue that runs fo roundly in thy head,
Should run thy head from thy unreverent Shoulders.

Gau. Oh spare me not, my Brother Edward's Son,
For that I was his Father Edward's Son:
That Blood already (like the Pelican)
Thou hapt tapt cut, and drunkenly carows'd.
My Brother Gloeffer, plain well meaning Soul
(Whom fair befall in Heaven 'monglt happy Souls)
May be a Prefident and Witneſs good,
That thou reſpect'd not spilling Edward's Blood:
Joyn with the preſent fickneſs that I have,
And thy unkindneſs be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too long wither'd Flower.
Live in thy flame, but dye not flame with thee,
These words hereafter thy tormentors be.
Convey me to my Bed, then to my Grave.

Love they to live, that Love and Honour have. [Exil.
Rich. And let them dye, that Age and Sullens have,
For both haſt thou, and both become the Grave.
Tor. I do beſeeth your Majefty impute his words
To wayward ficklineſs, and age in him:
He loves you on my life, and holds you dear
As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here.
Rich. Right, you ſay true: as Hereford's love, ſo his
As theirs, ſo mine: and all be as it is.
Enter Northumberland.

Nor. My Liege, old Gaunt commends him to your Majefty.
Rich. What ſay's he?
Nor. Nay nothing, all is faſd:
His Tongue is now a ſtringleſs Inſtrument,
Words, life, and all, old Lancaſter hath ſpent.
Tor. Be Tork the next, that muſt be Bankrupt ſo.
Though Death be poor, it ends a mortal wo.
Rich. The ripeſt Fruit firſt falls, and ſo doth he,
His time is ſpent, our pilgrimage muſt be:
So much for that. Now for our Irish Wars,
We muſt ſupplant thofe rough rug-headed Kerns,
Which live like Venom, where no Venom elfe
But only they, have privilege to live.
And for theſe great Aſſairs do ask ſome charge,
Towards our Ailſtance, we do ſeize to us
The Plate, Coyn, and Revenues, and Moveables,
Whereof our Uncle Gaunt did ſtand poffeſt.
Tor. How long ſhall I be patient? Oh how long
Shall tender duty make me ſuffer wrong?

Than was that young and Princely Gentleman:
His Face thou haſt, for even ſo look'd he,
Accompliſh'd with the number of thy Hours:
But when he frown'd, it was againſt the Freely,
And not againſt his Friends: his Noble Hand
Did win what he did ſpend: and ſpent not that
Which his triumphant Father's Hand had won:
His Hands were guilty of no Kindreds Blood,
But bloody with the Enemies of his Kin:
Oh Richard, Tork is too far gone with Grief,
And eſſe he never would compare between.

Rich. Why Uncle, What's the matte?
Tor. Oh, my Liege, pardon me if you poffeſt, if ne,
I, pleas'd not to be pardon'd, am content with all:
Seek you to ſeize, and gripe into your hands
The Royalties and Rights of banilſh'd Hereford?
Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live?
Was not Gaunt juſt, and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deferve to have an Heir?
Is not his Heir a well-deferving Son ?

Rich. Take Hereford's Rights away, and take from time
His Charters; and his cuſtomatic Rights:
Let not to morrow then enſue to day,
Be not thy ſelf. For how art thou a King
But by fair Sequence and Succession ?
Now afore God, God forbid I ſay true,
If you do wrongfully ſeize Hereford's right,
Call in his Letters Patents that he hat h
By his Attorneys General, to ſue
His Livery, and deny his offer'd Homage,
You pluck a thouſand Dangers on your head,
You loſe a thouſand well diſpoſed Hearts,
And prick my tender Patience to theſe thoughts
Which Honour and Allegiance cannot think.

Rich. Think what you will: we ſeize into our land
His Plate, his Goods, his Money, and his Lands.
Tor. Ple not be by the while: my Leige, farc'd
What will enſue hereof, there's none can tell,
But by bad Courſes may be underſood,
That their Events can never fall out good. [Lay

Rich. Go Boffe to the Earl of Wiltshire streight,
Bid him repair to us to Ely-houſe,
To fee this buſineſs: to morrow next
We will for Ireland, and 'tis time I trow:
And we create in abſence of my ſelf
Our Uncle York, Lord Governour of England:
For he is juſt, and always lov'd us well.
Come on our Queen, to morrow muſt we part,
Be merry, for our time of ſtay is short. [Flory

Manet North, Willoughby, and Rofs.
North. Well, Lords, the Duke of Lancaſter is dead
Roff. And living too, for now his Son is Duke.
Will. Barely in Title, not in Revenue.
Nor. Richly in both, if Juſtice had her Right.
Roff. My Heart is great: but it muſt break with ſlence.
Er't be disburthened with a liberal Tongue.
Nor. Nay ſpeak thy mind: and let him ne'er ſpeak more
That ſpeaks thy words again to do thee harm.

Will. Tends that thou'lt ſpeak to the Duke of Hereford
If it be ſo, out with it boldly, man:
Quick is mine Ear to hear of good towards him.

Roff. No good at all that I can do for him,
Unleſs you call it good to pity him,
Bereft and gelded of his Patrimony.
Nor. Now afore heaven, it's flame ſuch wrongs are born
In him a Royal Prince, and many moe,
Of Noble Blood in this declining Land;
The King is not himſelf, but bafely led
By Flatterers, and what they will inform
Meerly in hate 'gainſt any of us all,
That will the King ſeverely profecute
'Gainſt us, our Lives, our Children, and our Heirs.

Roff. The Commons hath he pill'd with grievous Tires
And quite loft their Hearts: the Nobles hath he fil'd
For

["The Life and Death of King Richard the second.", "28", "Tor. He was : why so, go all which way it will :\nThe Nobles they are fled, the Commons they are cold,\nAnd will I fear revolt on Hereford's fide.", "Sirrah, get thee to Plafhie, to my Sifter Glofter,\nBid her fend me prefently a Thoufand Pound,\nHold, take my Ring.", "Ser. My Lord, I had forgot\nTo tell your Lordship, to day I came by, and call'd there,\nBut I fhall grieve you to report the reft.", "Tor. What is't, Knave ?", "Ser. An Hour before I came, the Dutchefs dy'd.", "Tor. Heav'n for his mercy, what a Tide of Woes", "Come rufhing on this woful Land at once ?", "I know not what to do : I would to Heaven\n(So my Untruth had not provok'd him to it)", "The King had cut off my head with my Brother's.", "What, are there Poffs difpatch'd for Ireland ?", "How fhall we do for Money for thefe Wars ?", "Come Sifter, (Coufin, I would say) pray pardon me.", "Go follow, get thee home, provide fome Carts,", "And bring away the Armour that is there.", "Gentlemen, will you Muffer men ?", "If I know how, or which way to order thefe Affairs", "Thus disorderly thrust into my Hands,", "Never believe me. Both are my Kinſmen,", "Th' one is my Soveraign, whom both my Oath", "And Duty bids defend : th' other again", "Is my Kinſman, whom the King hath wrong'd,", "Whom Conſcience, and my Kindred bids to right.", "Well, fomewhat we muſt do : Come, Coufin,", "I'le diſpoe of you. Gentlemen, go muſter up your men,", "And meet me prefently at Barkly Caſtle ;", "I fhould to Plafhy too : but time will not permit,", "All is uneven, and every thing is left at fix and feven. [Exit.", "Bulb. The wind fits fair for News to go to Ireland,", "But none returns : for us to levy Power", "Proportionable to th' Enemy, is all impoffible.", "Gree. Besides our nearneſs to the King in love,", "Is near the hate of thofe love not the King.", "Bag. And that's the wavering Commons, for their love\nLies in their Purſes, and who ſo empties them,", "By ſo much fills their hearts with deadly hate.", "Bulb. Wherein the King ſtands generally condemn'd.", "Bag. If judgment lie in them, then ſo do we,", "Becaufe we have been ever near the King.", "Gree. Well : I will for refuge ſtreight to Briſol Caſtle,", "The Earl of Wilſhire is already there.", "Bulb. Thither will I with you, for little Office", "Will the harmful Commons perform for us,", "Except like Curs, to tear us all in pieces :", "Will you go along with us ?", "Bag. No, I will to Ireland to his Majeſty :", "Farewell, if Hearts prefages be not vain,", "We three here part, that never ſhall meet again.", "Bu. That's as Tork thrives to beat back Bullingbrook.", "Gree. Alas poor Duke, the Task he undertakes", "Is numbring Sands, and drinking Oceans dry,", "Where one on his fide fights, thouſands will flye.", "Bulb. Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever.", "Well, we may meet again.", "Bag. I fear me never.", "[Ex.", "## Scena Tertia.", "Enter the Duke of Hereford, and Northumberland.", "Bud. How far is it, my Lord, to Barkley now ?", "Nor. Believe me, Noble Lord,", "I am a ſtranger here in Glouſterſhire,", "Theſe high wild Hills, and rough uneven Ways,", "Draws out our Miles, and makes them weariſome :", "And yet our fair diſcourſe hath been as Sugar,", "Making the hard Way sweet and delectable :", "But I bethink me, what a weary way", "From Ravenſpurg to Cottſhold will be found,", "In Roffe and Willoughbry, wanting your company,", "Which I proteſt hath very much beguil'd", "The tediouſneſs and proceſs of my travel :", "But theirs is ſweetned with the hope to have", "The preſent benefit that I poffeſs :", "And hope to joy, is little leſs in joy,", "Than hope enjoy'd : By this, the weary Lords\nShall make their way ſeem ſhort, as mine hath done,\nBy fight of what I have, your noble Company.", "Bull. Of much leſs value is my Company,\nThan your good words : but who comes here?", "Enter H. Percy.", "North. It is my Son, young Harry Percy,\nSent from my Brother Worcester : whenceever.", "Harry, how fares your Uncle ?", "Percy. I had thought, my Lord, to have learn'd his\nHealth of you.", "North. Why, is he not with the Queen ?", "Percy. No, my good Lord, he hath forſook the Com-", "Broken his Staff of Office, and diſeſt", "The Houſhold of the King.", "North. What was his Reaſon?", "He was not ſo refolv'd, when we laſt ſpake together.", "Percy. Because your Lordship was proclaimed Trin-", "But he, my Lord, is gone to Ravenſpurg,", "To offer ſervice to the Duke of Hereford,", "And ſent me over by Barkley, to diſcover", "What Power the Duke of Tork had levied there,", "Then with direction to repair to Ravenſpurg.", "North. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford (to-", "Percy. No, my good Lord : for that I is not forga-", "Which ne're I did remember : to my knowledge,\nI never in my life did look on him.", "North. Then learn to know him now : this is the Da-", "Percy. My gracious Lord, I tender you my ſervice,", "Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young,", "Which elder days ſhall ripen, and confirm", "To more approved ſervice and defert.", "Bull. I thank thee, gentle Percy, and be ſure", "I count my ſelf in nothing eſſe ſo happy,", "As in a Soul remembring my good Friends :", "And as my Fortune ripens with thy Love,", "It ſhall be ſtill thy true Love's Recompence,", "My Heart this Covenant makes, my Hand thus feaſt.", "North. How far is it to Barkley ? and what fir", "Keeps good old Tork there with his Men of War?", "Percy. There ſtands the Caſtle by yond Tuſt of Tis", "Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard.", "And in it are the Lords of Tork, Barkley, and Sepu-", "None eſſe of Name, and Noble Eſtimate.", "Enter Rolle and Willoughbry.", "North. Here comes the Lords of Roffe and Willoughbry,\nBloody with ſpurring, fiery red with hafe.", "Bull. Welcome, my Lords, I wot your love purſures\nA banifht Traitor : all my Treaſury", "Is yet but unſelt Thanks, which more enrich'd,", "Shall be your love and labours Recompence.", "Roffe. Your Preſence makes us rich, moſt Noble Lord,\nWillo. And far ſurmounts our labour to attain it.", "Bull. Evermore Thanks, th' Exchequer of the poor,\nWhich till my infant-fortune comes to years,\nStand for my Bounty : but who comes here?", "Enter Barkley.", "North. It is my Lord of Barkley, as I gueſ.", "Bark. My Lord of Hereford, my

29

To you, my Lord, I come (what Lord you will)
From the most glorious of this Land,
The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
To take Advantage of the absent time,
And fright our Native People, with self-born Arms.

*Enter York.*

*Bull.* I shall not need transport my words by you,
Here comes his Grace in Perfon. My Noble Uncle.
*Tor.* Shew me thy humble Heart, and not thy Knee,
Whoof Duty is deceivable, and falfe.

*Bull, My gracious Uncle.*

*Tor.* Tut, tut, Grace me no Grace, nor uncle me,
I am no Traitors uncle ; and that word Grace,
In an ungracious Mouth, is but prophane.
Why have theſe banifh'd, and forbidden Legs,
Dar'd once to touch a duſt of England's Ground?
But more then, why, why have they dar'd to march
So many Miles upon her peaceful Boſom,
Frighting her pale-fac'd Villages with War,
And oftentation of deſpised Arms?
Com'ſt thou becauſe th' anointed King is hence ?
Why, fooliſh Boy, the King is left behind,
And in my loyal Boſom lies his Power.
Were I but now the Lord of ſuch hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy Father, and thy ſelf
Reſeued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the Ranks of many thouſand French :
Oh then, how quickly ſhould this arm of mine,
Now Prifoner to the Palſe, chafſe thee,
And minifter Correction to thy Fault.

*Bull.* My gracious uncle, let me know your Fault,
On what condition stands it, and wherein ?
*Tor.* Even in condition of the worſt degree,
In groſs Rebellion, and detefted Treafon :
Thou art a baniſh'd man, and here art come
Before th' expiration of thy time,
In braving Arms againſt the Soveraign.

*Bull.* As I was baniſh'd, I was baniſh'd Hereford,
But as I come, I come for Lancaſter.

And, noble uncle, I beſeech your Grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent Eye :
You are my Father, for methinks in you
I fee old Gaunt alive. Oh then, my Father,
Will you permit that I ſhall ſtand condemn'd
A wandring Vagabond; my Rights and Royalties
Pluckt from my Arms perſence, and given away
To upſtart Unthrifts ? wherefore was I born ?
If that my Couſin King, be King of England,
It muſt be granted I am Duke of Lancaſter.
You have a Son, Annerle, my Noble Kinaſman,
Had you firſt dy'd, and he been thus trod down,
He ſhouſd have found his Uncle Gaunt a Father,
To rowze his Wrongs, and chafe them to the bay.
I am deny'd to ſue my Livery here,

And yet my Letters Patents give me leave :
My Father's Goods are all diſtrain'd and fold,
And theſe and all, are all amiſs imploy'd.
What would you have me do ? I am a Subject,
And challenge Law : Attorneys are deny'd me,
And therefore Perfonally I lay my Claim
To mine Inheritance of free Defcent.

*North.* The Noble Duke hath been too much abus'd.
*Reſt.* It stands your Grace upon to do him right.
*Willo.* Bafe men by his Endowments are made great.
*Tor.* My Lords of England, let me tell you this,
I have had feeling of my Couſins Wrongs,
And labour'd all I could to do him Right :
But in this kind, to come in braving Arms,
Be his own Carver, and cut out his Way,
To find out Right with Wrongs it may not be,
And you that do abet him in this kind,
Cheriſh Rebellion, and are Rebels all.

*North.* The Noble Duke hath ſworn his coming is
But for his own; and for the Right of that,

We all have strongly ſworn to give him aid,
And let him ne'er fee joy that breaks that Oath.

*Tor.* Well, well, I fee the ilſue of theſe Arms,
I cannot mend it, I muſt needs confes,
Becauſe my Power is weak, and all ill left :
But if I could, by him that gave me life,
I would attach you all, and make you ſloop
Unto the Soveraign Mercy of the King.
But ſince I cannot, be it known to you,
I do remain as Neuter. So fare you well,
Unleſs you pleafe to enter in the Caſtle,
And there repofe you for this Night.

*Bull.* An offer, uncle, that we will accept :
But we muſt win your Grace to go with us
To Bristow-Caſtle, which they ſay is held
By Buſhy, Bagot, and their Complices,
The Caterpillars of the Common-wealth,
Which I have ſworn to weed, and pluck away.

*Tor.* It may be I will go with you, but yet I p[er]ſaue,
For I am loth to break our Country's Laws :
For Friends, nor Foes, to me welcome you are,
Things paſt redrefs, are now with me paſt care.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Quarta.

*Enter Salisbury, and a Captain.*

*Cap.* My Lord of Salisbury, we have ſtaid ten days,
And hardly kept your Countrie-men together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the King :

Therefore we will disperſe our ſelves: farewell.
*Sal.* Stay yet another day, thou truſty Welchman,
The King repofeth all his Confidence in thee.

*Cap.* 'Tis thought the King is dead, we will not ſtay,
The Bay-tres in our Country are all wither'd,
And Meteors fright the fixed Stars of Heaven ;
The pale-fac'd Moon looks bloody on the Earth,
And lean look Prophets wifper fearful Change;
Rich men look ſad, and Ruffians dance and leap,
The one in fear to loſe what they enjoy,
The other to enjoy by Rage and War,
Theſe figns forerun the death of Kings.
Farewell, our Countrie men are gone and fled,
As well affur'd Richard their King is dead.

*Sal.* Ah Richard, with Eies of heavy mind,
I fee thy Glory like a ſhooting Star,
Fall to the bafe Earth from the Firmament :
Thy Sun fetts weeping in the lowly Weſt.
Witneſſing Storms to come, Woe, and Unreſt :
Thy Friends are ſled to wait upon thy Foes,
And croſly to thy good, all Fortune goes.

[Exit.]

[Exit.]

## Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

*Enter Bullinbrook, York, Northumberland, Roffe, Percy, Willoughby, with Buſhy and Green, Prisoners.*

*Bull.* Bring forth theſe men :
*Buſhy and Green,* I will not vex your Souls,
(Since preſently your Souls muſt part your Bodies)
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no Charity : yet to waſh your Blood
From off my Hands, here in the view of men,
I will unfold ſome Caufes of your Deaths.
You have mis-led a Prince, a Royal King,
A happy Gentleman in Blood and Lineaments,
By you unhappied, and disſigur'd clean :
You have in manner with your ſinful Hours
Made a divorce betwixt his Queen and him,
Broke the poſſeffion of a Royal Bed,

D3

And

30

And slain'd the Beauty of a fair Queens Cheeks
With Tears drawn from her Eies, with your foul Wrongs.
My self a Prince, by Fortune of my Birth,
Near to the King in Blood, and near in love,
Till you did make him miſ-interpret me,
Have ſtoopt my neck under your Injuries,
And ſigh'd my English breath in foreign Clouds,
Eating the bitter Bread of Baniſhment;
While you have fed upon my Seignories,
Dif-park'd my Darks, and ſell'd my Forreſt Woods;
From mine own Windows torn my Houſhold Coat,
Raz'd out my Impreſs, leaving me no ſign,
Save mens Opinions, and my living Blood,
To ſhew the world I am a Gentleman.
This, and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death: ſee them delivered over
To Execution, and the hand of Death.

Brinhe. More welcome is the ſtroak of death to me,
Than *Bullingbrook* to England.

Gree. My comfort is that Heaven will take our Souls,
And plague Injuſtice with the Pains of Hell.

Bull. My Lord *Northumberland*, ſee them disſpatch'd:
Uncle, you ſay the Queen is at your Houſe,
For Heavens ſake, fairly let her be entreated,
Tell her I ſend to her my kind. Commends ;
Take ſpecial care my Greetings be deliver'd.

Tor. A Gentleman of mine I have disſpatch'd
With Letters of your love to her at large.

Bull. Thanks, gentle *Uncle*: come Lords away,
To fight with *Glendourie*, and his Complices ;
A while to work, and after Holliday.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Secunda.

Drums: Flourish, and Colours.

Enter Richard, Aumerle, Carlile, and Souldiers.

Rich. Barkloughly-Caſtle call you this at hand ?

Au. Yea, my Lord, How brooks your Grace the air,
After your late toſling on the breaking Seas ?

Rich. Needs muſ I like it well: I weep for joy
To ſtand upon my Kingdom once again.

Dear Earth, I do ſalute thee with my Hand,
Though Rebels wound thee with their Horſes Hoofs :
As a long Parted Mother with her Child,

Plays fondly with her Tears, and ſimles in meeting;
So weeping, ſmiling, greet I thee the Earth,
And do thee favour with my Royal Hands.

Feed not thy Soveraigns Foe, my gentle Earth,
Nor with thy Sweets, comfort his ravenous Senſe :

But let thy Spiders that fuck up thy Venom,
And heavy-gated Toads lie in their way,
Doing Annoyance to the treacherous ſeet,
Which with ſurpurig ſteps do trample thee.

Yield ſtinging Nettles to mine Enemies;
And when they from thy Bofom pluck a Flower,
Guard it I prethee with a lurking Adder,

Whofe double Tongue may with a mortal touch
Throw death upon thy Soveraign's Enemies.

Mock not my ſenſeleſs Conjuration: Lords;
This Earth ſhall have a feeling, and theſe Stones
Prove armed Souldiers e're her Native King

Shall falter under foul Rebellious Arms.

Car. Fear not, my Lord, that Power that made you King
Hath Power to keep you King, in ſpight of all.

Aum. He means, my Lord, that we are too remiſ
Whilſt *Bullingbrook*, through their ſecurity,
Grows ſtrong and great, in Subſtance and in Friends.

Rich. Difcomfortable Couſin, knoweſt thou not,
That when the ſearching Eye of Heaven is hid
Behind the Globe that lights the lower World,

Then Thieves and Robbers range abroad unſen,
In Murthers, and in out-rage bloody here:
But when from under this Terrefrial Ball
He fires the proud tops of the *Eaſtern* Pines,
And darts his Lightning through ev'ry guilty hole,
Then Murthers, Treafons, and deteft ſins
(The Cloak of Night being pluckt from off their back)
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themſelves.

So when this Thieſe, this Traitor *Bullingbrook*,
Who all this while hath revell'd in the Night,
Shall fee us riling in our THRONE, the *Aſſ*,
His Treafons will ſet blushing in his Face,
Not able to endure the fight of Day ;

But ſelf-affrighted, tremble at his ſin.

Not all the Water in the rough rude Sea
Can waſt the Balm from an anointed King;
The breath of worldly men cannot depofe
The Deputy elected by the Lord :

For every man that *Bullingbrook* hath preſt,
To lift ſhrewd Steel againſt our Golden Crown,
Heaven for his *Richard* hath in heavenly pay
A glorious Angel: then if Angels fight,
Weak Men muſt fall, for Heaven ſtill guards the Right.

*Enter Salisburry.*

Welcome, my Lord, how far off lies your Power?

Salif. Nor near, nor farther off, my gracious Lord,
Than this weak arm; Difcomfort guides my Tongue,
And bids me ſpeak of nothing but Defpair :

One day too late, I fear (my Noble Lord)

Hath clouded all my happy daies on Earth:

Oh call back yefterday, bid time return,

And thou ſh. It have twelve thouſand fighting men:
To day, to day, unhappy day too late.

O rethrows thy Joys, Friends, Fortune, and thy State
For all the *Welchmen* hearing thou wert dead,
Are gone to *Bullingbrook*, diſperſt, and ſied.

Aum. Comfort, my Liege, why looks your Grace ſo pail
Rich. But now the Blood of twenty thouſand men

Did triumph in my face, and they are ſled,
And till ſo much Blood thither come again,
Have I not reaſon to look pale, and dead ?

All Souls that will be ſafe, fly from my ſide,

For Time hath ſet a blot upon my Pride.

Aum. Comfort, my Liege, remember who you are.

Rich. I had ſorget my ſelf. Am I not King ?

Awake thou fluggard Majeſty, thou ſleepeſt :

Is not the Kings Name, a puny thouſand Names ?

Arm, arm my Name: a puny Subject ſtrikes

At thy great Glory. Look not to the ground,
Ye Favorites of a King : are we not high ?

High be our thoughts : I know my *Uncle York*.

Hath Power enough to ſerve our turn,

But who comes here?

[Enter Scroop.]

Scroop. More health and happineſs betide my Liege,
Than can my care-tun'd Tongue deliver him.

Rich. Mine Ear is open, and my Heart prepaſt:

The worſt is worldlily loſs, thou canſt unfold :

Say, Is my Kingdom loft ? why ?twas my Care:

And what loſs is it to be rid of Care?

Strives *Bullingbrook* to be as great as we ?

Greater he ſhall not be: if he ſerve God,

We'll ſerve him too, and be his Fellow ſo.

Revolt our Subjects ? That we cannot mend,
They break their Faith to God as well as us :

Cry Woe, Deſtruction, Ruine, Lofs, Decay,

The worſt is Death, and death will have his day.

Scroop. Glad am I, that your Highneſſs is ſo arm'd
To bear the Tidings of Calamity.

Like an unfeaſonable ſtormy day,

Which make the Silver Rivers drown their Shores

As if the world were all diſlovd to Tears :

So high above his Limits, ſwells the Rage

Of *Bullingbrook*, covering your fearful Land

With hard bright Steel, and hearts harder than Steel:

White

31

White Bears have arm'd their thin and hairles Scalps
Against thy Majefty, and Boys with Womens voices,
Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
In diff unwieldy Arms : against thy Crown
Thy very Beadf-men learn to bend their Bows
Of double fatal Ewe : against thy State
Yea diffaff-women manage ruffy Bills :
Against thy Seat both young and old rebell,
And all goes worfe than I have power to tell.

Rich. Too well, too well thou tell't a tale so ill.
Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bigot?
What is become of Buſhy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous Enemy
Measure our Confines with ſuch peaceful ſteps?
If we prevail, their Hands ſhall pay for it.
I warrant they have made peace with Bullingbrook.

Scroop. Peace have they made with him indeed (my Lord.)
Rich. Oh Villains, Vipers, damn'd without redemption,
Dogs, eafily won to fawn on any man,
Snakes in my heart-blood any'md, that ſting my heart,
Three ſudaffes, each one thrice worſte than ſudas,
Would they make Peace ? terrible Hell make War
Upon their ſpotted Souls for this Offence.

Scroop. Sweet Love (I fee) changing his Property,
Turns to the ſowrefl, and moſt deadly Hite :
Again uncurſe their Souls; their Peace is made
With Heads, and not with Hands: thofe whom you curſe
Have felt the worſt of Death's deftroying Hand.
And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.

Aum. Is Buſhy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead ?
Scroop. Yea, all of them at Briflow loft their Heads.

Aum. Where is the Duke, my Father, with his Power ?
Rich. No matter where, of comfort no man ſpeak:

Let's talk of Graves, of Worms, and Epitaphs,
Make Duſt our Paper, and with Rainy Eies
Write Sorrow in the Boſom of the Earth.
Let's chufe Executors, and talk of Wills :
And yet not ſo, for what can we bequeath,
Save our depoſed Bodies to the Ground ?

Our Lands, our Lives, and all are Bullingbrook's,
And nothing can we call our own, but Death,
And that ſmall Model of the barren Earth,
Which ſerves as Pafte, and Cover to our Bones :
For Heavens ſake let us fit upon the ground,
And tell ſad Stories of the death of Kings :
How ſome have been depos'd, ſome flain in War,
Some haunted by the Groſts they have depos'd,
Some poyſon'd by their Wives, ſome ſleeping kill'd,
All murther'd. For within the hollow Crown
That rounds the mortal Temples of a King,
Keeps Death his Court, and there the Antique fits
Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little ſcene,
To Monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks,
Infuſing him with ſelf and vain Conceit,
As if this Fleſh, which walls about our Life,
Were Braſſ impregnable: and humour'd thus,
Gomes at the laſt, and with a little Pin
Boars through his Cſtle Walls, and farewell King.

Cover your heads, and mock not ſleth and blood
With ſolemn Reverence: throw away Reſpect,
Tradition, Form, and Ceremonious Duty,
For you have but miftook me all this while :
I live with Bread like you, feel Want,

Tafe Grief, need Friends: subjeſted thus,
How can you ſay to me, I am a King ?

Carl. My Lord, wife men ne're wail their prefent Woes,
But prefently prevent the ways to wail :

To fear the Foe, ſince fear oppreſſeth Strength,
Gives in your weakneſs, Strength unto your Foe;
Fear, and be ſlain, no worſe can come to ſight :
And fight and die, is death deftroying death.

Where fearing, dying, pays death ſervile breath.

Aum. My Father hath a Power, enquire of him,

And learn to make a Body of a Limb.

Rich. Thou chid'ſt me well: proud Bullingbrook, I come
To change Blows with thee, for our day of Doom:
This Ague-fit of Fear is over-blown,
An eafe task it is to win our own.

Say Scroop where lies our Uncle with his Power ?
Speak fweetly man, although thy looks be fowre.

Scroop. Men judge by the Complexion of the Skie
The ſtate and inclination of the day,

So may you by my dull and heavy Eye :

My Tongue hath but a heavier Tale to ſay :

I play the Torturer, by ſmall and ſmall

To lengthen out the worſt, that muſt be ſpoken.

Your Uncle York is joyn'd to Bullingbrook,

And all your Northern Ctaſles yielded up,

And all your Southern Gentlemen in Arms
Upon his Faſtion.

Rich. Thou haſt faid enough.

Befrew thee, Couſin, which didſt lead me forth

Of that fweet way I was in to Deſpair :

What ſay you now ? what Comfort have we now ?

By Heaven I hate him everlaſtingly

That bids me be of comfort any more.

Go to Flint-Caſſle, there I'll pine away,

A King, Woes Slave, ſhall Kingly Wo obey :

That Power I have, diſcharge, and let 'em go

To ear the Land, that hath ſome hope to grow,

For I have none. Let no man ſpeak again

To alter this, for Counſel is but vain.

Aum. My Liege, one word.

Rich. He does me double wrong,

That wounds me with the flatteries of his Tongue.

Diſcharge my Followers: let them hence away,

From Richard's Night, to Bullingbrook's fair day. [Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Bullingbrook, York,
Northumberland, Atendants.

Bul. So that by this Intelligence we learn
The Welchpenen are diſpers'd, and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
With ſome few private Friends upon this Coaſt.

North. The News is very fair and good, my Lord.

Richard not far from hence, hath hid his head.

Tor. It would beſeem the Lord Northumberland,
To ſay King Richard: alack the heavy day,
When ſuch a ſacred King ſhould hide his head.

North. Your Grace miſtakes, onely to be brief,
Left I his Title out.

Tor. The time hath been,

Would you have been ſo brief with him, he would
Have been ſo brief with you, to ſhorten you,

For taking ſo the head, your whole heads length.

Bull. Miftake not (Uncle) farther than you ſhould.

Tor. Take not (good Couſin) farther than you ſhould,
Left you miftake, the Heavens are o're your head.

Bull. I know it (Uncle) and oppoſe not my ſelf
Against their will. But who comes here ?

Enter Percie.

Welcom Harry: what, will not this Cſtle yield ?

Per. The Cſtle royalty is mann'd, my Lord,

Against thy entrance.

Bull. Royally ? Why, it contains no King ?

Per. Yes (my good Lord)

It doth contain a King: King Richard lies

Within the Limits of yond Lime and Stone,

And with him, the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,

Sir Stephen Scroop, beſides a Clergy-man

Of holy Reverence; who, I cannot learn.

North. Oh, belike it is the Biſhop of Carlile.

Bul. Noble Lord,

Go to the rude Ribs of that ancient Cſtle,

Through

32

Through brazen Trumpet send the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver :

Henry Bullingbrook upon his Knees doth kifs King Richard's Hand, and fends Allegiance And true Faith of heart to his Royal Perfon: hither come Even at his feet, to lay my Arms and Power, Provided, that my Banifhment repeal'd, And Lands reftor'd again, be freely granted : If not, I'le ufe the Advantage of my Power, And lay the Summer's duft with flowers of Blood, Rain'd from the Wounds of flaughterd Englishmen; The which, how far off from the mind of Bullingbrook It is, fuch Crimson tempeft should bedrench The fresh green Lap of fair King Richard's Land, My flooping Duty tenderly ſhall ſhew.

Go fignife as much, while here we march
Upon the Graffie Carpet of this Plain :
Let's march without the noife of threatening Drum,
That from this Caftles tatter'd Battlements
Our fair Appointments may be well perus'd.

Methinks King Richard and my ſelf ſhould meet
With no leſſ terror than the Elements
Of Fire and Water, when their thundring ſmoak
At meeting tears the cloudy Checks of Heaven :

Be he the Fire, I'le be the yielding Water :

The Rage be his, while on the Earth I rain
My Waters on the Earth, and not on him.

March on and mark King Richard how he looks.

Parle without, and anſwer within : then a Flourifh. Enter on the Walls, Richard, Carlile, Aumerle, Scroop, Salisbury.

See, fee, King Richard doth himſelf appear
As doth the bluſhing discontented Sun,
From out the fiery Portal of the Eaſt,
When he perceives the envious Clouds are bent
To dim his Glory, and to ſtain the traſt
Of his bright paſſage to the Occident.

Tor. Yet looks he like a King: behold his Eye
(As bright as is the Eagles) lightens forth
Controlling Majeſtyle: alack, alack, for woe,
That any Harm ſhould ſtain ſo far a ſhow.

Rich. We are amaz'd, and thus long have we ſlood
To watch the fearful bending of thy Knee,
Because we thought our ſelf thy lawful King:
And if we be, how dare thy joynts forget
To pay the awful Duty to our Prefence ?
If we be not, ſhew us the Hand of God,
That hath diimis'd us from our Stewardſhip,
For well we know, no Hand of Blood and Bone
Can gripe the ſacred Handle of our Scepter,
Unleis he do prophane, ſteal or ufurp.

And though you think, that all, as you have done,
Have torn their Souls, by turning them from us,
And we are barren, and bereſt of Friends :
Yet know, my Maſter, God Omnipotent,
Is muſtering in his Clouds on our behalf,
Armies of Peſtilence, and they ſhall ſtrike,
Your Children yet unborn, and unbegot,
That lift your Vafſal Hands againſt my Head,
And threat the Glory of my precious Crown.

Tell Bullingbrook, for yond methinks, he is,
That every ſtride he makes upon my Land,
Is dangerous Treſaon, he is come to ope
The purple Teſtament of a bleeding War ;
But e're the Crown he looks for, live in peace,
Ten thouſand bloody Crowns of Mothers Sons
Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
Change the Complexion of her Maid-pale Peace
To Scarlet indignation, and bedew
Her Paſtors Graſs with faithful English Blood.

North. The King of Heaven forbid our Lord the King
Should ſo with civil and uncivil Arms.

Be ruſh'd upon: Thy thrice-noble Couſin,

Harry Bullingbrook doth humbly kifs thy hand,
And by the honourable Tomb he ſwears
That ſtands upon your Royal Grandſliers Bones,
And by the Royalties of both your Bloods,
(Currents that ſpring from one moſt gracious Head)
And by the buried hand of VVarlike Gaunt,
And by the Worth and Honour of himſelf,
Comprifing all that may be ſworn, or ſaid,
His coming hither hath no further ſcope,
Than for his linear Royalties, and to beg
Infranchiſement immediate on his Knees:

Which on thy Royal party granted once,
His glittering Arms he will commend to Ruſh,
His barbed Steeds to Stables, and his Heart
To faithful ſervice of your Majeſty:

This ſwears he, as he is a Prince, is juſt,
And as I am a Gentleman, I credit him.

Rich. Northumberland, ſay thus: The King returns
His Noble Couſin is right welcome hither,
And all the number of his fair Demands

Shall be accompliſh'd without Contradiction:
With all the gracious utterance thou haſt,

Speak to his gentle hearing-kind commends.
We do deſaſe our ſelf (Couſin) do we not,
To look ſo poorly, and to ſpeak ſo far ?

Shall we call back Northumberland, and ſend
Deſiance to the Traitor, and ſo die ?

Aum. No, good my Lord, let's fight with gentle word.
Till time lend Friends, and Friends their hopeful Sworn.

Rich. Oh God, oh God that e're this tongue of mine
That laid the Sentence of dread Baniſhment
On yond proud man, ſhould take it off again
With words of footh : Oh that I were as great

As is my Grief, or leſſer than my Name,

Or that I could forget what I have been,
Or not remember what I muſt be now:

Swell ſpelt thou proud Heart ? Ple give thee ſcope to be,
Since foes have ſcope to beat both thee and me.

Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bullingbrook.
Rich. What muſt the King do now ? muſt he die?

The King ſhall do it: Muſt he be depos'd ?

The King ſhall be contented: Muſt he Iole
The Name of King ? o'Gods Name let it go.

I'le give my Jewels for a fet of Beads,
My gorgeous Pallace, for an Hermitage,

My gay Apparrel, for an Alms-mans Gown,
My ſigur'd Goblets, for a diſh of Wood,
My Scepter, for a Palmers walking Saff,

My Subjects, for a pair of Carved Saints,
And my large Kingdom, for a little Grave,

A little little Grave, an obſcure Grave.

Or Ple be buried in the Kings high-way,
Some way of common Trade, where Subjects Feet
May hourly trample on their Soveraign's Head:

For on my Heart they tread now, whilſt I live;
And buried once, why not upon my Head ?

Aumerle, thou weepſt, (my tender hearted Couſin)
We'l make foul weather with deſpifed Tears:
Our fighs, and they, ſhall lodge the Summer Corn,
And make a dearth in this Revolting Land.

Or ſhall we play the Wantons with our Woes,
And make ſome pretty Match with fledding Tears?

As thus: to drop them ſtill upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of Graves,

Within the Earth: and therein laid, there lies
Two Kinſmen digg'd their Graves with weeping Eis:
Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I fee
I talk but idely, and you mock at me.

Moſt mighty Prince, my Lord Northumberland,
What ſays King Bullingbrook? Will his Majeſtyle
Give Richard leave to live, till Richard die ?
You make a Leg, and Bullingbrook ſays I.

North. My Lord in the baſe Court he doth attend
To ſpeak with you, may it pleafe you to come down.

Rich.

33

Rich. Down, down I come like gliding Phaeton,
Wanting the management of unruly Jades.
In the bafe Court ? bafe Court where Kings grow bafe,
To come at Traitors Calls, and do them Grace.
In the bafe Court come down : down Court, down King,
For night-Owls firereek, where mounting Larks should sing.

Bull. What fays his Majefty ?

North. Sorrow, and grief of heart

Makes him ſpeak fondly like a frantick man :
Yet he is come.

Bull. Stand all apart,

And ſhow fair duty to his Majeſtty.

My gracious Lord.

Rich. Fair Couſin,

You debate your Princely knee,
To make the bafe Earth proud with kiling it.
Me rather had, my Heart might feel your Love,
Than my un-pleas'd Eye fee your Courteſe.

Up Couſin, up, your heart is up, I know,

Thus high at leaſt, although your Knee be low.

Bull. My gracious Lord, I come but for mine own.

Rich. My own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
Bull. So far be mine, (my moſt redoubted Lord,)

As my true Service ſhall deferve your love.

Rich. Well you defer'd :

They well deferve to have,

That know the ſtrong'ſt and ſireſt way to get.

Uncle give me your hand : nay, dry your Eies,
Tears ſhew their love, but want their Remedies.

Couſin, I am too young to be your Father,
Though you are old enough to be my Heir.

What you will have, I'le give, and willing too,

For do we muſt, what Force will have us do.

Set on towards London :

Couſin, is it ſo ?

Bull. Yea, my good Lord.

Rich. Then I muſt not ſay no.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Queen, and two Ladies.

Qu. What ſport ſhall we devife here in this Garden,
To drive away the heavy thought of Care ?

La. Madam, we'll play at Bowls.

Qu. ?Twill make me think the world is full of Rubs,
And that my Fortune runs againſt the Byas.

La. Madam, we'll dance.

Qu. My Legs can keep no Meaſure in Delight,
When my poor Heart no Meaſure keeps in Grief.

Therefore no dancing (Girl) ſome other ſport.

La. Madam, we'll tell Tales.

Qu. Of Sorrow, or of Grief?

La. Of either, Madam.

Qu. Of neither, Girl.

For if of Joy, being altogether wanting,
It doth remember me the more of Sorrow :
Or if of Grief, being altogether had,
It adds more Sorrow to my want of Joy :

For what I have, I need not to repeat :

And what I want, it boots not to complain.

La. Madam, I'le Sing.

Qu. ?Tis well that thou haſt Caufe :

But thou ſhouldſ't pleafe me better, would't thou weep.
La. I could Weep, Madam, would it do you good ?

Qu. And I could Sing, would weeping do me good,
And never borrow any tear of thee.

Enter a Gardiner, and two Servants.

But fly here comes the Gardiners,
Let's ſtep into the ſhadow of theſe Trees.

My wretchedneſſes, unto a row of Pines,
They'l talk of State; for every one doth ſo,

Againſt a Change; woe is fore-run with woe.

Gard. Go bind thou up yond dangling Apricocks,
Which like unruly Children, make their Syre
Stoop with oppreſlion of their prodigal weight :
Give ſome ſupportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and like an Executioner

Cut off the heads of too ſaſt growing ſprays,
That look too lofty in our Common-wealth:
All muſt be even in our Government.

You thus imploy'd, I will go root away
The noſom Weeds that without profit ſuck
The Soils fertility from wholſom Flowers.

Ser. Why ſhould we in the compaſs of a Pale,
Keep Law and Form, and due Proportion,
Shewing, as in a Model, our firm ſtate?

When our Sea-walled Garden, (the whole Land,)  
Is full of Weeds, her faireſt Flowers choakt up,  
Her Fruit trees all upruin'd, her Hedges ruin'd,  
Her Knots diſorder'd, and her wholſom Hearbs  
Swarming with Caterpillers.

Gard. Hold thy peace,

He that hath ſuffer'd this diſorder'd Spring,
Hath now himſelf met with the fall of Leaf,

The Weeds that his broad-ſpreading Leaves did ſhelter,
That ſeem'd in eating him, to hold him up,

Are pull'd up, root and all, by Bullingbrook ;

I mean the Earl of Wilſhire, Buſhy, Green.

Ser. What, are they dead ?

Gard. They are,

And Bullingbrook hath ſeiz'd the waeſeful King.

What pity is it, that he had not trimm'd

Aud dreſt his Land, as we this Garden at time of year ;

And wound the Bark, the skin of our Fruit-trees,

Left being over proud with Sap and Blood,

With too much Riches it confound it ſelf ?

Had he done ſo, to great and growing men,

They might have liv'd to bear, and he to tafeſe

Their Fruits of Duty. All ſuperfluous Branches

We lop away, that bearing Boughs may live :

Had he done ſo, himſelf had born the Crown,

Which waeſte and idle hours hath quite thrown down.

Ser. What think you the King ſhall be depos'd ?

Gard. Depreſſed he is already, and depos'd

?Tis doubted he will be. Letters came laſt night

To a dear Friend of the Duke of Tork,

That tell black tidings.

Qu. Oh I am preſſt to death through want of ſpeaking :

Thou old Adam's likeneſſs, fet to drefſs this Garden,

How dares thy harſh tongue found this unpleafing News ?

What Eve ? what Serpent hath ſuggeſted thee,

To make a ſeconſd fall of curſed man ?

Why doſt thou ſay, King Richard is depos'd ?

Dar'ſt thou (thou little better thing than Earth)

Divine his downfall ? ſay, where, when, and how

Cam'ſt thou by this ill tydings ? ſpeak thou Wretch.

Gard. Pardon me, Madam. Little joy have I

To breath theſe News; yet what I ſay is true ;

King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of Bullingbrook, their Fortunes both are weigh'd :

In your Lords Scale, is nothing but himſelf,

And ſome few Vanities that make him light :

But in the Ballance of great Bullingbrook,

Befides himſelf, are all the English Peers,

And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.

Poſt you to London, and you'l find it ſo,

I ſpeak no more, than every one doth know.

Qu. Nimble Mifchance, that art ſo light of Foot,
Doth not thy Embaſſage belong to me ?

And am Iaſt that knows it? Oh thou think'ſt

To ſerve me laſt, that I may longeſt keep

Thy Sorrow in my breast. Come Ladies, go,

To meet at London London's King in woe.

What was I born to this ! that my ſad look,

Should grace the Tryumph of great Bullingbrook !

Gard'ner

34

Gardner, for telling me these News of woe,
I would the Plants thou graft'st may never grow. [Exit.
Gar: Poor Queen, so that thy State might be no worse,
I would my skill were subject to thy Curfe:
Here did the drop a tear, here in this place
I'f let a bank of Rew, (fowre Herb of Grace :)
Rew ev'n for Ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping Queen.
[Exit.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter as to the Parliament, Bullingbrook, Aumerle, Northumberland, Percie, Fitz-Water, Surrey, Carlile, Abbot of Westminfter, Herald, Officers, and Bagot.

Bullingbrook. Call forth Bagot.

Now Bagot, freely I speak thy mind,
What thou doft know of Noble Glofter's death ;
Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd
The bloody Office of his timeles's end.

Bag. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.

Bull. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that nian.

Bag. By my Lord, Aumerle, I know your daring Tongue
Scorns to unfay, what it hath once deliver'd.

In that dead time when Glofter's death was plotted,
I heard you say, Is not my Arm of length,
That reacheth from the reftul English Court

As far as Callis to my Uncles head ?

Amongst much other talk, that very time,

I heard you say that you had rather refute

The offer of an hundred thousand Crowns,

Than Bullingbrook return to England; adding withall,

How bled this Land would be in this your Confins death.

Aum. Princes, and Noble Lords:

What anwer shall I make that this bafe man ?

Shall I do much diſhonour my fair Stars,

On equal terms to give him chaftifement ?

Either I muſt, or have mine Honour ſpoil'd
With the Attainder of his ſland'drous lips.

There is my Gage, the manual Seal of death,

That marks thee out for Hell. Thou lieſt,

And will maintain what thou haſt faid, is falſe,

In thy heart Blood, though being all too bafe,

To ſtain the temper of my Knightly Sword.

Bull. Bagot forbear, thou ſhalt not take it up.

Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the beſt
In all this Prefence that hath moved me ſo.

Fitz. If that thy Valour ſtand on ſympathies :

There is my Gage, Aumerle, in Gage to thine :

By that fair Sun, that flews me where thou ſtand'st,
I heard the ſay (and vauntingly thou ſpak'st it)

That thou wert caufe of Noble Gloſter's death.

If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou lieſt,

And I will turn thy falhood to thy Heart,

Where it was forged, with my Rapiers point.

Aum. Thou dar'st not (Coward) live to fee the day.

Fitz. Now, by my Soul, I would it were this Hour.

Aum. Fitzwater thou art damn'd to Hell for this.

Per. Aumerle, thou lieſt : his Honour is as true

In this Appeal, as thou art all unjuſt :

And that thou art ſo, there I throw my Gage

To prove it on thee, to th'extreame't point

Of mortal breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'st.

Aum. And if I do not may my Hands rot off,
And never brandith more revengeful Steel,
Over the glittering Helmet of my Foe.

Surrey. My Lord Fitzwater :

I do remember well, the very time

Aumerle and you did talk.

Fitz. My Lord,

Tis very true: You were in Prefence then ;
And you can witnesſ with me, this is true.

Surrey. As falſe, by Heaven,
As Heaven it ſelf is true.

Fitz. Surrey, thou lyeſt.

Surrey. Diſhonourable Boy,

That Lye, shall lie so heavie on my Sword,

That it shall render Vengeance and Revenge,

Till thou the Lye-giver, and that Lye, do lie

In earth as quiet, as thy Father's Scull.

In proof whereof, there is mine Honours Pawn,
Engage it to the Tryal, if thou dar'ſt.

Fitzw. How fondly do't thou ſpur a forward Horſt
If I dare eat, or drink, or breath, or live,
I dare meet Surrey in a Wilderneſs,

And ſpit upon him, whilſt I ſay he Lyes,

And Lyes, and Lyes: there is my Bond of Faith,

To tye thee to my ſtrong Correction.

As I intended to thrive in this new world,
Aumerle is guilty of my true Appeal.

Befides, I heard the banifht Norfolk ſay,
That thou Aumerle didſt ſend two of thy men,
To Execute the Noble Duke at Calive.

Aum. Some honest Chriſtian truſt me with a Gag,
That Norfolk lies : here do I throw down this,
If he may be repeal'd, to try his Honour.

Bul. These Differences ſhall all reſt under Gage,
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he ſhall be;

(And though mine Enemy) reſtor'd again

To all his Lands and Seignories: when he's returned,

Against Aumerle we will enforce his Tryal.

Carl. That honourable day shall ne'er be ſeen.

Many a time hath banifht Norfolk ſought

For Jefus Chriſt, in glorious Chriſtian Field

Streaming the Enſign of the Chriſtian Croſs

Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens:

And toyl'd with works of War, retir'd himſelf

To Italy, and there at Venice gave

His Body to that pleafant Countries Earth,

And his pure Soul unto his Captain Chriſt,

Under whose Colours he had fought ſo long.

Bull. Why, Bifhop, is Norfolk dead ?

Carl. As ſure as I live, my Lord.

Bull. Sweet peace conduct his ſweet Soul

To the Boſom of good old Abraham.

Lords Appealants, your Differences ſhall all reſt under gage

Till we allign you to your days of Tryal.

Enter York.

York. Great Duke of Lancaſer, I come to thee
From plume-pluckt Richard, who with willing Soul
Adopts thee Heir, and his high Scepter yields
To the poſſection of thy Royal hand.

Aſcend his Thrope, defcending now from him,
And long live Hemy, of that Name the Fourth.

Bull. In Gods Name, Ile aſcend the Regal Thrope

Carl. Marry, Heaven forbid.

Worſt in this Royal Prefence may I ſpeak,

Yet beſt beſeeming me to ſpeak the truth.

Would God, that any in this Noble Prefence

Were enough Noble to be upright Judge

Of Noble Richard, then true Noblenef's would

Learn him forbearance from ſo ſon a Wrong.

What Subject can give Sentence on his King ?

And who fits here that is not Richard's Subject?

Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear,

Although apparent guilt be ſeen in them:

And ſhall the Figure of Gods Majeſty,

His Captain, Steward, Deputy elect,

Anointed, Crown'd and planted many years,

Be judg'd by ſubject and inferiour breath,

And he himſelf not preſent ? Oh, forbid it, God,

That in a Chriſtian Climate, Souls refin'd

Should ſhew ſo heinous, black, obſene a deed.

I ſpeak to Subjects, and a Subject ſpeaks,

Stirr'd up by Heaven, thus boldly for his King.

My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call King,

35

Is a foul Traytor to proud Hereford's King.
And if you Crown him, let me propheſie,
The Blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future Ages groan for his foul Act.
Peace ſhall go sleep with Turks and Infidels,
And in this Seat of Peace, tumultuous Wars
Shall Kin with Kin, and Kind with Kind confound.

Diforder, Horrour, Fear and Mutiny
Shall here inhabit, and this Land be call'd
The field of Golgotha, and dead mens Sculls.
Oh, if you rear this Houſe, againſt this Houſe
It will the wofulſe Divination prove,
That ever fell upon this curſed Earth.

Prevent it, reſt it, let it not be ſo,
Left Child, Childſs Children cry againſt you, wo.

North. Well have you argu'd, Sir : and for your pains,
Of Capital Treafon we arreſt you here.
My Lord of Westminſter, be it your charge,
To keep him ſafely, till his day of Tryal.

May it pleafe you, Lords, to grant the Commons Suit?

Bull. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view

He may ſurrender: So we ſhall proceed
Without ſuſpition.

Tor. I will be his Conduct.

[Exit.]

Bull. Lords, you that are here under our Arreſt,
Procure your Sureties for your Days of Anſwer:
Little are we beholding to your Love,
And little look'd for at your helping Hands.

Enter Richard and York.

Rich. Alack, why am I ſent for to a King,
Before I have ſhook off the Regal thoughts
Wherewith I reigne ? I hardly yet have learn'd
To infinuate, flattter, bow, and bend my Knee.
Give Sorrow leave a while, to return me
To this Submiſlion. Yet I will remember
The favours of theſe men: Were they not mine?
Did they not ſometime cry, 'All hail to me ?

So Judas did to Chrift: But he in twelve,

Found truth in all, but one ; I, in twelve thouſand, none.
God fave the King: Will no man ſay, Amen.

Am I both Prieft and Clark ? well then, Amen,
God fave the King, although I be not he :

And yet Amen, if Heaven do think him me.
To do what ſervice, am I ſent for hither ?

Tor. To do that Office of thine own good will,
Which tyred Majeſty did make thee offer :
The Reſignation of thy State and Crown
To Henry Bullingbrook.

Rich. Give me the Crown. Here Couſin, ſeize the Crown:
Here Couſin, on this ſide my Hand, on that ſide thine:

Now is this Golden Crown like a deep Well,
That owes two Buckets, filling one another,
The emptier ever dancing in the Air,
The other down, unfeen, and full of Water :

That Bucket down, and full of Tears am I,
Drinking my Griefs, whilſt you mount up on high.

Bull. I thought you had been willing to reſign.

Rich. My Crown I am, but ſtill my Griefs are mine:
You may my Glories, and my State depoſe,
But not my Griefs; ſtill am I King of thofe.

Bul. Part of your Cares you give me with your Crown.
Rich. Your Cares ſet up, do not pluck my Cares down,
My Care, is loſs of Care, by old Care done,

Your Care, is gain of Care, by new Care won.

The Cares I give, I have, though given away,
They tend the Crown, yet ſtill with me they ſay,
Bull. Are you contented to reſign the Crown?

Rich. I no; no I, for I muſt nothing be :

Therefore no, no, for I reſign to thee.

Now, mark me how I will undo my ſelf;
I give this heavy Weight from off my Head,
And this unwieldy Scepter from my Hand,

The pride of Kingly ſway from out my Heart,
With mine own Tears I waſh away my blame,

With mine own Hands I give away my Crown,
With mine own Tongue deny my Sacred State,
With mine own Breath releaſe all dutious Oaths:
All Pomp and Majeſty I do forſwear :

My Mannors, Rents, Revenues, I forgo ;
My Aſts, Decrees, and Statutes I deny :

God pardon all Oaths that are broke to me,
God keep all Vows ubroke are made to thee.

Make me, that nothing have, with nothing gricv'd;
And thou with all pleas'd, that haſt all atchiev'd,

Long maſt thou live in Richard's Seat to fit,
And foon lie Richard in an Earthy pit.

God fave King Henry, un-King'd Richard ſays,
And ſend him many years of Sun-ſhine days.

What more remains ?

North. No more: But that you read
Theſe Accufations, and theſe grievous Crimes,

Committed by your Perſon, and your Followers,
Ainſt the State and Profit of this Land :

That by confefling them, the Souls of men

May deem that you are worthily depos'd.

Rich. Muſt I do ſo ? and muſt I ravel out
My weav'd-up Follies ? Gentle Northumberland,

If thy Oſences were upon Record,

Would it not ſhame thee, in ſo fair a Troop,
To read a Lecture of them ? if thou would'ſt,

There ſhould'ſt thou find one hainous Article,

Containing the depoſing of a King,

And cracking the Iſtong Warrant of an Oath,

Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the Book of Heaven.

Nay, all of you, that ſland and look upon me,

Whilſt that my wretchedneſs doth bait my ſelf,

Though ſome of you, with Pilate waſh your Hands,

Shewing an outward Pity: Yet you Pilates

Have here delivered me to my ſower Croſs,

And water cannot waſh away your ſin.

North. My Lord, diſpatch, read o're theſe Articles.

Rich. Mine eyes are full of Tears, I cannot ſee :

And yet ſalt-water blinds them not ſo much,

But they can fee a ſort of Traitors here.

Nay, if I turn mine Eies upon my ſelf,

I find my ſelf a Traytor with the reſt :

For I have given here my Souls conſent,

T'undeck the pompous Body of a King ;

Made Glory bafe ; a Soveraign, a Slave ;

Proud Majeſty, a Subject ; State, a Peafant.

North. My Lord.

Rich. No Lord of thine, thou haught-inſuſing man ;
No, nor no mans Lord: I have no Name, no Title ;

No, not that name was given me at the Font,

But ?tis ſuſur : alack the heavy day,

That I have worn ſo many Winters out,

And know not now, what name to call my ſelf.

Oh, that I were a Mötkerie, King of Snow,

Standing before the Sun of Bullingbrook,

To melt my ſelf away in Water-Drops.

Good King, great King, and yet not greatly good,

And if my word be Sterling yet in England

Let it command a Mirror hither ſtreight,

That it may ſhow me what a Face I have,

Since it is Bankrupt of his Majeſty.

Bull. Go ſome of you, and fetch a Looking Glafs.

North. Read o're this Paper, while the Glafs doth come.

Rich. Fiend, thou torments me, e're I come to Hell.

Bull. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.

North. The Commons will not then be fatſis'y'd.

Rich. They ſhall be fatſis'y'd: I'le read enough,

When I do fee the very Book indeed,

Where all my Sins are writ, and that's my ſelf.

Enter one with a Glafs.

Give me that Glafs, and therein will I read.

No deeper wrinkles yet ? hath forrow ſtruck

So many blows upon this Face of mine,

And made no deeper Wounds ? Oh flatt'ring Glafs,

Like

37

North. That were fome Love, but little Policy.
Qu. Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
Rich. So two together weeping, make one woe,
Weep thou for me in France; I for thee here :
Better far off than near, be ne're the near
Go, count thy way with fighs, I mine with groans.
Qu. So longeft way, fhall have the longeſt moans.
Rich. Twice for one ſtep Ile groan, the way being ſhort,
And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
Come, in weowing Sorrow let's be brief,
Since wedding it, there is ſuch length in Grief :
One Kifs ſhall ſtop my mouths, and dumbly part ;
Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy Heart.
Qu. Give me mine own again: 'twere no good part,
To take on me to keep, and kill thy Heart.
So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
That I may ſtrive to kill it with a groan.
Rich. We make Wo wanton with this fond delay :
Once more adieu; the reſt let Sorrow ſay. [Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

### Enter York and his Dutchefi.

Dut. My Lord, you told me you would tell the reſt,
When weeping made you break the Story off,
Of our two Couſins coming into London.
Tor. Where did I leave?
Dut. At that ſad ſtop, my Lord,
Where rude mis-govern'd hands, from Windows tops,
Trew duſt and rubbith on King Richard's Head.

Tor. Then, as I faid, the Duke (great Bullingbrook)
Mounted upon a hot and fiery Steed,
Which his aſpiring Rider ſeem'd to know,
With flow, and flately pace, kept on his courſe:
While all tongues cry'd, God fave thee, Bullingbrook.
You would have thought the very Windows ſpake,
So many greedy looks of young and old,
Through Cafements darted their defiring Eies
Upon his ſivage: and that all the Walls
With painted Imagery had faid at once,
Jefu preferve thee, welcome, Bullingbrook.
Whiſt he, from one ſide to the other turning,
Bare-headed lower than his proud Steeds neck,
Befpeak them thus: I thank you Country-men:
And thus ſtill doing, thus he paſt along.

Dutch. Alas ! poor Richard, where rides he the whiſt ?
Tor. As in a Theater, the Eies of men
After a well-grac'd Aſtor leaves the Stage,
Are idely bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious :
Even ſo, or with much more contempt, mens Eies,
Did ſcowle on Richard: no man cry'd, God fave him :
No joyful Tongue gave him his welcome home,
But duſt was thrown upon his Sacred Head,
Which with ſuch gentle ſorrow he ſhook off,
His Face ſtill combating with Tears and Smiles
(The Badges of his Grief and Patience)
That had not God (for ſome ſtrong purpofe) ſeel'd
The hearts of men, they muſt perſorce have melted,
And Barbarifm it ſelf have pittied him,
But Heaven hath a hand in theſe Events,
To whose high Will we bound our calm Contents.
To Bullingbrook, are we ſworn Subjects now,
Whofe State, and Honour, I for aye allow.

Enter Aumerle.
Dat. Here comes my Son Aumerle.
Tor. Aumerle that was,
But that is loft, for being Riebard's Friend.
And Madam, you muſt call him Rutland now :
I am in Parliament pledge for his truth,
And laſting Fealtie in the new-made King.

Dut. Welcome my Son: who are the Violets now,
That ſtrew the green Lap of the new-come Spring ?
Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not,
God knows. I had as lief be none, as one.
Tor. Well, bear you well in this new ſpring of time,
Leaſt you be cropt before you come to prime.
What News from Oxford ? Hold thofe Jaſts and Triumphs
Aum. For ought I know, my Lord, they do.

Tor. You will be there I know.
Aum. If God prevent not, I purpofe ſo.
Tor. What Seale is that that hangs without thy Bofom ?
Yea, look? ſt thou pale ? let me fee the Writing.
Aum. My Lord, 'tis nothing.
Tor. No matter then who fees it,
I will be ſatified, let me fee the Writing.
Aum. I do beſeech your Grace to pardon me,
It is a matter of ſmall Conſequence,
Which for ſome Reaſons I would not have ſeen.
Tor. Which for ſome Reaſons, Sir, I mean to fee :
I fear, I fear.

Dut. What ſhould you fear ?
'Tis nothing but ſome Bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay Apparel, againſt the Triumph.
Tor. Bound to himſelf ? VVhat doth he with a Bond
That he is bound to ? VVife, thou art a Fool.
Boy, let me fee the Writing.
Aum. I do beſeech you pardon me, I may not ſhow it.
Tor. I will be ſatified, let me fee it, I ſay. [Snatches it.
Treafon, foul Treſaſon, Villain Traitor, Slave.
Dut. What's the matter, my , Lord ?
Tor. Hoa, who's within there ? faddle my Horſe
Heaven for his meek: what treachery is here ?

Dut. Why, what is't my, Lord ?
Tor. Give me my Boots! ſay: faddle my Horſe.
Now by my Honour, my life, my Troth,
I will appeach the Villain.
Dut. What is the matter ?
Tor. Peace fooliſh Woman.
Dut. I will not peace, VVhat is the matter, Son ?
Aum. Good Mother be content, it is no more
Then my poor life muſt anſwer.

Dut. Thy life anſwer.

Enter Servant with Boots.

Tor. Bring my Boots, I will unto the King.
Dut. Strike him, Aumerle. Poor Boy, thou art amaz'd,
Hence Villain, never more come in my fight.
Tor. Give me my Boots, I ſay.
Dut. Why, Tork, what wilt thou do ?
Wilt thou not hide the trefpafs of thine own ?
Have we more Sons ? or are we like to have ?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with Time ?
And wilt thou pluck my fair Son, from mine Age,
And rob me of a happy Mother's name ?
Is he not like thee ? is he not thine own ?
Tor. Thou fond mad VVoman:
Wilt thou conceal this dark Conſpiracy ?
A dozen of them here tane the Sacrament,
And interchangeably ſet their hands
To kill the King at Oxford.
Dut. He ſhall be none:

We'll keep him here: then what is that to him ?
Tor. Away fond VVoman: where he twenty times my
Son, I would appeach him.
Dut. Hadst thou groan'd for him as I have done,
Thou wouldſt be more pittiful :
But now I know thy mind; thou doſt ſuſpect
That I have been diſloyal to thy Bed,
And that he is a Baſtard, not thy Son :
Sweet Tork, ſweet Husband, be not of that mind :
He is as like thee, as a man may be,
Not like to me, nor any of my Kin,
And yet I love him.

Tor. Make way, unruly VVoman. [Exit.
Dut. After Aumerle. Mount thee upon his Horſe,
E e
Spur

38

Spur poft, and get before him to the King,
And beg thy Pardon, e're he do accufe thee,
Ple not be long behind: though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as faft as York:
And never will I rife up from the ground,
Till Bullingbrock have pardon'd thee: Away, be gon. [Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

*Enter Bullingbrook, Percie, and other Lords.*

**Bull.** Can no man tell of my unthrifty Son ?
'Tis fall three Months since I did fee him laft.
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he :
I would to Heaven (my Lord) he might be found,
Enquire at London, 'mongft the Taverns there :
For there (they fay) he daily doth frequent,
With unretrained loose Companions,
Even ſuch (they fay) as ſtand in narrow Lanes,
And rob our VWatch, and beat our Paſſengers,
Which he (young wanton, and effeminate Boy)
Takes on the point of Honour, to ſupport
So diffolute a Crew.

**Per.** My Lord, fome two days since I faw the Prince,
And told him of theſe Triumphs held at Oxford.

**Bull.** And what faid the Gallant ?

**Per.** His anſwer was: he would unto the Stews,
And from the common'ſt Creature pluck a Glove
And wear it as a Favour, and with that
He would unhorſe the luſtieſt Challenger.

**Bull.** As diffolute as deſp'rate, yet through both,
I fee ſome ſparks of better hope : which elder days
May happily bring forth. But who comes here?

*Enter Amerle.*

**Aum.** Where is the King ?

**Bull.** What means our Couſin, that he ſtares
And looks ſo wildly ?

**Aum.** God fave your Grace. I do beſeech your Majefly
To have ſome conference with your Grace alone.

**Bull.** Withdraw your ſelves, and leave us here alone:
What is the matter with our Couſin now ?

**Aum.** For ever may my Knees grow to the Earth,
My Tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Unleſs a Pardon, e're I rife or ſpeak.

**Bull.** Intended or committed was this Fault ?
If on the firſt, how hainous e're it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee,

**Aum.** Then give me leave that I may turn the Key,
That no man enter till the, Tale be done.

**Bull.** Have thy define.

**Tor.** My Liege, beware, look to thy ſelf,
Thou haſt a Traitor in thy Prefence there.

**Bull.** Villain, Ple make thee ſafe.

**Aum.** Stay thy revengeful hand, thou haſt no cauſe to fear.
Tor. Open the door, ſecure foul-hardy King :

Shall I for love ſpeak Treafon to thy face ?
Open the door, or I will break it open.

*Enter York.*

**Bull.** What is the matter (Uncle) ſpeak, to recover breath,
Tell us how near is danger,

That we may arm us to encounter it.

**Tor.** Perufe this Writing here, and thou haſt know
The reaſon that my haſte forbids me ſhow.

**Aum.** Remember as thou read'ſt, thy promife paf :
I do repent me, read not my Name there,

My Heart is not confederate with my Hand.

**Tor.** It was (Villain) e're thy hand did fet it down.
I tore it from the Traitors boſom, King.

Fear and not Love, begets his Penitence ;

Forget to pity him, leaſt thy pity prove

A Serpent, that will sting thee to the heart.

**Bull.** Oh heinous, ſtrong, and bold Conſpiracy,

**O loyal Father of a treacherous Son:**
Thou ſheer, immaculate, and ſilver Fountain,
From whence this ſtream, thourgh muddy paſſages
Hath had his current, and deſil'd himself.
Thy overflow of good, converts to bad,
And thine abundant goodneſs ſhall excufe
This deadly blot, in thy digreſling Son.

**Tor.** So ſhall my Vertue be his Vies Bawd,
And he ſhall ſpend mine Honour with his ſhame :
As thriſtleſs Sons their scraping Fathers Gold.
Mine Honour lives when his Dihonour dies,
Or my ſhame'd life in his Dihonour lies :
Thou kil'ſt me in his life, giving him breath,
The Traitor lives, the True mans put to death.

*[Dutchefs, while]*

**Dut.** What hoa (my Liege for Heavens ſake let me)
**Bull.** What ſhrill-voic'd Suppiant makes this eager ey-
**Dut.** A Woman, and thine Aunt (great King) 'll
Speak with me, pity me, open the door,
A Begger begs, that never begg'd before.

**Bull.** Our ſcene is alter'd from a ſerious thing,
And now chang'd to the Beggar, and the King:
My dangerous Couſin, let yon Mother in,
I know theſe come to pray for your foul ſin.

**Tor.** If thou do pardon, whoſoever pray,
More fins for this forgiſenefs, proper may
This feſter'd joyn't cut off the reſt reſts found,
This let alone, will all the reſt confound.

*Enter Dutchefs.*

**Dut.** O King, believe not this hard hearted man,
Love, loving not it ſelf, none other can.

**Tor.** Thou fractick Woman, what doſt thou make me
Shall thy old Dugs once more a Traitor rear ?

**Dut.** Sweet York, be patient, hear me gentle Liege.

**Bull.** Rife up good Aunt.

**Dut.** Not yet I thee beſeech,

For ever will I kneel upon my Knees,

And never fee day that the happy ſees,

Till thou give joy : until thou bid me joy,

By pardoning Rutland, my tranſgreſſing Boy.

**Aum.** Unto my Mother's Prayers, I bend my Knee
**York.** A gainſt them both, my true Joynts beaſed be
**Dut.** Pleads he in earneſt ? Look upon his ſace,

His Eyes do drop no. Tears : his Prayers are in jaſt:
is words come from his Mouth, ours from our Breaf
He prays but faintly, and would be deny'd,

We pray with heart and foul, and all beſide:
His weary Joynts would gladly rife, I know,

Our Knees ſhall kneel, till to the ground they grow:
His prayers are full of falſe Hygroſcifie,

Ours of true zeal, and deep integrity :

Our Prayers do out-pray his, then let them have
That Mercy, which true Prayers ought to have.

**Bull.** Good Aunt ſtand up.

**Dut.** Nay, do not ſay ſtand up.

But pardon firſt, and afterwards ſtand up.

And if I were thy Nurſe, thy Tongue to teach,
Pardon ſhould be the firſt word of thy ſpech.

I never long'd to hear a word till now :

Say Pardon (King) let pity teach thee how.
The word is ſhort, but not ſo ſhort as ſweet,

No word like Pardon, for Kings Mouths ſo meet.

**Tor.** Speak it in French (King) ſay Pardon ne moj.

**Dut.** Doſt thou teach Pardon, Pardon to deſirof?

Ah my ſowre Husband, my hard-hearted Lord,
That fet'ſt the word it ſelf, againſt the word.

Speak Pardon as 'tis current in our Land,

The chooping French we do not underſand.

Thine Eye begins to ſpeak, ſet thy Tongue there ;

Or in thy piteous Heart, plant thou thine Ear,

That hearing how our Plaints and Prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearſe.

**Bull.** Good Aunt ſtand up.

**Dut.** I do not ſue to ſtand,

Pardon

The first Part of King Henry the Fourth.

43

four a Clock early at Gads-bill, there are Pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich Offerings, and Traders riding to London with fat Purves. I have Vizards for you all; you have HorSES for yourSELVES: Gads-bill lies to night in Rochester, I have bepoken Supper to morrow in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: if you will go, I will fluff your Purves full of Crowns: if you will not, tarry at home and be hang'd.

Fal. Heary Yedward, if I tarry at home, and go not, I'le hang you for going.

Poin. You will, Chops.

Fal. Hal, Wilt thou make one?

Prin. Who, I rob? I a Thief? not I.

Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou cam'st not of the Blood Royal, if thou dar'st not stand for ten Shillings.

Prin. Well then, once in my days I'le be a mad-cap.

Fal. Why, that's well faid.

Prin. Well, come what will, I'le tarry at home.

Fal. I'le be a Traitor then, when thou art King.

Prin. I care not.

Poin. Sir John, I pretheve leave the Prince and me alone, I will lay him down fuch Reafons for this Adventure, that he fflall go.

Fal. Well, may'ft thou have the fpirit of Perfwation; and he the Ears of profiting, that what thou speakeft, may move; and what he hears may be believed, that the true Prince may (for recreation fake) prove a falfe Thief; for the poor abufes of the time, want countenance. Farewell, you fflall find me in East-cheap.

Prin. Farewel the latter Spring. Farewel Allhollown Summer. [Exit Fal.

Poin. Now, my good fweet honey Lord, ride with us to morrow. I have a Jeft to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falftaff, Harvey, Roffil, and Gads-bill, fflall rob thofe men that we have already way-laid; your felf and I will not be there : and when they have the Booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this Head from my Shoulders.

Prin. But how shall we part with them in fetting forth?

Poin. Why, we will fet forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they venture upon the Exploit themfelves, which they have no sooner atchieved, but we'll fet upon them.

Prin. I but 'tis like that they will know us by our HorSES, by our Habits, and by every other Appointment to be our fels.

Poy. Tut. Our HorSES they fflall not fee, I'le tye them in the wood; our Vizards we will change after we leave them: and Sirrah, I have Cafes of Buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward Garments.

Prin. But I doubt they will be too hard for us.

Poin. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true bred Cowards as ever turn'd back: and for the third, if he fight longer than he fees Reafon, I'le forfwear Arms. The verte of this Jeaft will be, the incomprehensible lies that this fat Rogue will tell us, when we meet at Supper; how thirty at leaft he fought with, what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this, lies the Jeaft.

Prin. Well, I'le go with thee, provide us all things neceffary, and meet me to morrow night in Eastcheap, there I'le fup. Farewel.

Poin. Farewel, my Lord.

[Exit Poin's.

Prin. I know you all, and will a while uphold the unyoak'd Humour of your Idlenefs:

Yet herein will I imitate the Sun,
Who doth permit the bafe contagious Clouds
To fmoother up his Beauty from the World;
That when he pleafe again to be himfelf,
Being wanted, he may be more wondred at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly Mifts
Of Vapours, that did feem to ftrangle him.
If all the year were playing Holidays,
To ſport, would be as tedious as to work;

But when they feldom come, they wifht-for come,
And nothing pleafeth but rare Accidents.

So when this loofe Behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promifed.

By how much better than my Word I am,

By fo much fflall I falſiſe mens Hopes,

And like bright Metal on a ſullen groud.

My Reformation glittering o're my Fault

Shall ſhew more goodly, and attract more Eyes,
Than that which hath no ſoyl to fet it off.

I'le ſo offend, to make Offence a skill,
Redeeming time, when men think leaſt I will.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt, and others.

King. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to ſtir at theſe Indignities,

And you have found me; for accordingly,

You tread upon my Patience: But be ſure,
I will from henceforth rather be my ſelf,

Mighty, and to be fear'd, then my condition,

Which hath been ſmooth as Oyl, ſoft as young Down,

And therefore loſt the Title of Respect,

Which the proud ne're pays, but to the proud.

Wor. Our Houſe (my Soveraign Liege) little deferves the ſurge of Greatneſs to be uſed on it.

And that fame, Greatneſs too, which our own hands
Have holt to make ſo portly.

Nor. My Lord.

King. Worcester get thee gone: for I do fee

Danger and Difobedience in thine Eye.

O Sir, your Prefence is too bold and peremptory,
And Majeſtly might never yet endure.

The moody Frontier of a Servant brow,

You have good leave to leave us. When we need
Your ſue and counſel, we ſflall ſend for you.

You were about to ſpeak.

North. Yea, my good Lord.

Thofe Prifoners in your Highneſs Name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

Were (as he ſays) not with ſuch ſtrength deny'd

As was delivered to your Majeſt:

Who either through envy, or miſprifion,

Was guilty of this fault: and not my Son.

Hot. My Liege, I did deny no Prifoners.

But, I remember when the fight was done,

When I was dry with Rage, and extream Toyl,

Breathleſs, and faint, leaning upon my Sword,

Came there a certain Lord, neat and trimly drcſt;

Freſh as a Bride-groom, and his Chin new reaps,

Shew'd like a flubble Land at Harveſt home.

He was perfumed like a Milliner,

And 'twixt his Finger and his Thumb, he held
A Pouncet Box: which ever and anon.

He gave his Noſe, and took't away again:

Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in Snuff. And ſtill he ſmil'd and talk'd:

And as the Souldiers bare dead bodies by,
He call'd them unaught Knaves, Unmannerly,

To bring a flovenly unhandſome Coarſe
Betwixt the wind; and his Nobility.

With many Holiday and Lady terms

He queſtion'd me: Among the reſt, demanded
My Prifoners, in your Majeſties behalf.

I then, all ſmarming with my wounds being cold;
(To be ſo peftered with a Popingay)

Out of my grief, and my impatience,

Anſwer'd (neglectingly) I know not what.

He ſhould or ſhould not: For he made me mad,

To fee him ſhine ſo brisk, and ſmell ſo sweet,

And

["The first Part of King Henry the Fourth.", "45", "Hot. By Heaven, methinks it were an aeſie leap,\nTo pluck bright Honour from the pale-fac'd Moon,\nOr dive into the bottom of the deep,\nWhere Fadom-line could never touch the ground,\nAnd pluck up drowned Honour by the Locks:\nSo he that doth redeem her thence, might wear\nWithout Co-rival, all her Dignities :\nBut out upon this half-fac'd Fellowwhip.", "Wor. He apprehends a world of Figures here,", "But not the Form of what he ſhould attend :\nGood Couſin give me audience for a while,\nAnd lift to me.", "Hot. I cry you mercy.", "Wor. Thoſe fame Noble Scots", "That are your Prifoners.", "Hot. Ile keep them all.", "By Heaven, he ſhall not have a Scot of them :", "No, if a Scot would ſave his Soul, he ſhall not.", "Ile keep them, by this Hand.", "Wor. You I start away,", "And lend no ear unto my Purpofes.", "Thoſe Prifoners you ſhall keep.", "Hot. Nay, I will; that's flat :", "He ſaid he would not Ranſom Mortimer :", "Forbad my Tongue to ſpeak of Mortimer.", "But I will find him when he lies aſleep,", "And in his Ile PLE hollas, Mortimer.", "Nay, Ile have a Starling ſhall be taught to ſpeak", "Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him,", "To keep his anger ſill in motion.", "Wor. Hear you, Couſin : A word.", "Nor. All Studies here I felemously deſe,", "Save how to gall and pinch this Bullingbrook,", "And that fame Sword and Buckler Prince of Wales.", "But that I think his Father loves him not,", "And would be glad he met with ſome Mifchance,", "I would have poyſon'd him with a pot of Ale.", "Wor. Farewell, Kinfman: Ile talk to you", "When you are temper'd to attend.", "Nor. Why what a waf'tongu'd and impatient Fool", "Art thou, to break into this Womans mood,", "Tying thine Ear to no Tongue but thine own ?", "Hot. Why look you, I am whipt and ſcourg'd with rods?", "Netled, and ſtung with Pifmiers, when I hear", "Of this vile Politician Bullingbrook.", "In Richard's time: What de'ye call the place ?", "A plague upon't, it is in Gloeſcer-shire :", "Twas where the madcap Duke his Uncle kept,", "His Uncle Tork, where I firſt bow'd my Knee", "Unto the King of Smiles, this Bullingbrook:", "When you and he came back from Ravenſpurg,", "Nor. At Barkley Caſtle.", "Hot. You fay true :", "Why what a gaudy deal of Curteſe", "This fawning Gray-hound then did proſer me.", "Look when his infant Fortune came to age,", "And gentle Harry Percy, and kind Couſin:", "O, the Devil take ſuch Cozeners, God forgive me:", "Good Uncle tell your tale, for I have done.", "Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again,", "We'll ſtay your leifure.", "Hot. I have done, inſooth.", "Wor. Then once more to your Scotiſh Prifoners.", "Deliver them up without their Ranſom ſtreight,", "And make the Domgas Son your only mean", "For Powers in Scotland: Which for divers Reaſons", "Which I ſhall ſend you written, be aſſu'd", "Will easily be granted you, my Lord.", "Your Son in Scotland being thus employ'd,", "Shall ſecretly in the boſom creep.", "Of that fame noble Prelate, well beſov'd,", "The Arch-Biftop.", "Hot. Of York, is't not?", "Wor. True, who bears hard", "His Brothers death at Briflow, the Lord Scroop.", "I ſpeak not this in elſimation,", "As what I think might be, but what I know", "Is ruminated, plotted, and ſet down,", "And onely ſtays but to behold the face", "Of that occasion that ſhall bring it on.", "Hot. I smell it :", "Upon my life, it will do wondrous well.", "Nor. Before the game's a foot, thou ſtill lett? ſt. ſlip.", "Hot. Why, it cannot choofe but be a noble Plot,", "And then the Power of Scotland, and of York.", "To joyn with Mortimer, Ha.", "Wor. And so they ſhall.", "Hot. In faith it is exceeding well aim'd.", "Wor. And'tis no little Reaſon bids us ſpeed,", "To ſave our Heads, by raiſing of a Head :", "For, bear our ſelves as even as we can,", "The King will always think him in our debt,", "And think we think our ſelves unsatisfied,", "Till he hath found a part to pay away.", "And fee already, how he doth begin", "To make us ſtrangers to his looks of love.", "Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him.", "Wor. Couſin, farewell. No further go in this,", "Than I by Letters ſhall direct your courſe;", "When time is ripe, which will be ſuddenly,", "Ile ſeal to Glendower, and lo, Mortimer,", "Where you, and Dowglas, and our Powers at once,", "As I will fashion it, ſhall happily meet,", "To bear our Fortunes in our own ſtrong Arms,", "Which now we hold at much uncertainty.", "Nor. Farewell, good Brother, we ſhall thrive, I truſt.", "Hot. Uncle, adieu: O let Hours be ſhort,", "Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our ſport. [Exit.", "## Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.", "Enter a Carrier, with a Lanthorn in his hand,", "1. Car. Heigh ho, an't be not four by the day Ile be\nhang'd. Charles wain is over the new Chimney, and yet\nour Horſe not packt. What, Oſtler ?", "Oſt. Anon, anon.", "1. Car. I prethee Tom, beat Cuts Saddle, put a few\nFlocks in the point: The poor Jade is wrung in the Wi-\nthers, out of all ceſs.", "Enter another Carrier.", "2. Can. Peafe and Beans are as dark here as a Dog, and\nthis is the next way to give poor Jades the Bots: This\nHouſe is turned upſide down like Robin the Oſtler died.", "1. Car. Poor fellow never joy'd ſince the price of Oats\nroſe, it was the death of him.", "2. Car. I think this is the moſt Villanous Houſe in all\nLondon road for Fleas: I am ſtung like a Tench.", "1. Car. Like a Tench ? There's ne're a King in Chri-\ntendom, could be better bit, than I have been ſince the\nfirſt Cock.", "2. Car. Why, you will allow us ne'er a Jourden, and\nthen we leak in your Chimney: And your Chamber-lye\nbreeds Fleas like a Loach.", "1. Car. What Oſtler, come away, and be hang'd\ncome away.", "2. Car. I have a Gammon of Bacon, and two razes of\nGinger, to be delivered as far as Charing-croſs.", "1. Car. The Turkies in my Panniers are quite ſtarved.\nWhat Oſtler ? a plague on thee, haſt thou never an eye\nin thy head ? canſt not hear ? and 'twere not as good a\ndeed as drink, to break the pate of thee, I am a very Vil-\nlain. Come and be hang'd, haſt no faith in thee ?", "Enter Gads-hill.", "Gad. Good morrow, Carriers. What's a Clock ?", "Car.

46

Gad. I prethee lend me thy Lanthorn to see my Gelding in the Stable.

1. Car. Nay, soft I pray ye, I know a trick worth two of that.

Gad. I prethee lend me thine.

2. Car. I, when, canst tell? lend me thy Lanthorn (quoth-a) marry Ple see thee hang'd first.

Gad. Sirrah, Carrier: what time do you mean to come to London?

2. Car. Time enough to go to bed with a Candle, I warrant thee. Come Neighbour Mugges, we'll call up the Gentlemen, they will along with company, for they have great charge.

[Exeunt.]

Enter Chamberlain.

Gad. What ho, Chamberlain?

Cham. At hand quoth Pick-purse.

Gad. That's even as fair, as at hand quoth the Chamberlain: For thou varieſt no more from picking of Purſes, than giving direction doth from labouring. Thou lay't the plot, how.

Cham. Good morrow Maſter Gads-hill, it holds curant that I told you yefternight. There's a Franklin in the wild of Kent, hath brought three hundred Marks with him in Gold: I heard him tell it to one of his Company laſt night at Supper; a kind of Auditor, one that hath abundance of Charge too, (God knows what) they are up already, and call for Eggs and Butter. They will away prefently.

Gad. Sirrah, if they meet not with S. Nicholas Clarks, Ple give thee this neck.

Cham. No, I'le none of it: I prethee keep that for the Hangman, for I know thou worſhip'ſt S. Nicholas as truly as a man of falſhood may.

Gad. What talkeſt thou to me of the Hangman? If I hang Ple make a fat pair of Gallows. For if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me, and thou know'ſt he's no Straveling. Tut, there are other Trojans that thou dream'ſt not of, the which (for ſport fake) are content to do the Proſection ſome grace; that would (if matters ſhould be look'd into) for their own Credit fake, make all whole. I am joyned with no Foot-Land-Rakers, no Long-ſtaff fix penny ſtrikers, none of theſe mad Muſtaſchio-purple-hu'd-Malt-worms, but with Nobility, and Tranquility; Burgomaſters, and great Oneyers, ſuch as can hold in, ſuch as will ſtrike ſooner than ſpeak; and ſpeak ſooner than drink, and drink ſooner than pray; and yet I lye, for they pray continually unto their Saint the Common-wealth; or rather, not to pray to her, but prey on her: for they ride up and down on her, and make her their Boots.

Cham. What, the Common-wealth their Boots? Will the hold out water in foul way?

Gad. She will, the will; Juitſice hath liquor'd her. We ſteal, as in a Caſtle, Cock-fure: we have the receit of Fern-feed, we walk inviſible.

Cham. Nay, I think rather, you are more beholding to the Night, than the Fern-feed, for your walking inviſible.

Gad. Give me thy hand.

Thou ſhalt have a ſhare in our purpofe, As I am a true man.

Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a falſe Thieſe.

Gad. Go to: Home is a common name to all men. Bid the Oſtler bring the Gelding out of the Stable.

Farewell, ye muddy knave.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Prince, Poyns, and Peto.

Poyns. Come ſhelter, ſhelter, I have removed Falſtaſſ Horſe, and he frets like a gumm'd Velvet.

Prin. Stand cloſe.

Enter Falſtaſſ.

Fal. Poynes, Poynes, and be hang'd Poynes.

Prin. Peace ye fat-kidney'd Raſcal, what a bawling doſt thou keep?

Fal. What Poynes, Hal?

Prin. He is walk'd up to the top of the Hill, Ple be hang'd him.

Fal. I am accuſt to rob in that Thiefs Compa ny: the Raſcal hath removed my Horſe, and tied him I know not where. If I travel but four foot by the square further a foot, I ſhall break my moon. Well, I doubt not but I die a fair death for all this, if I ſcape hanging for that Rogue. I have forſworn his company hourly as the Rogues company. If the Raſcal have not given me Medicines to make me love him, Ple be hang'd, it cannot be eſſe: I have drunk Medicines. Poynes, Hal, Plague upon you both. Bardolph, Peto: I'le ſtarve eſtrob a foot further. And 'twere not as good a deed as drink, to turn True-man, and to leave theſe Rogues, I know the veriſt Varlet that ever chewed with a Tooth. Ears, yards of uneven ground, is threeſcore and ten miles a ſtand with me: and the ſtony-hearted Villains know it not enough. A plague upon't, when Thieves cannot be one to another.

[They whist.]

Whew a plague! light upon you all. Give me my kind. You Rogues: give me my Horſe, and be hang'd.

Prin. Peace ye fat-guts, lie down, lay thine ear close to the ground, and lift if thou can hear the tread of Travellers.

Fal. Have you any Leavers to lift me up again, down? Ple not bear mine own ſleef so far afoot again for all the Coyn in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?

Prin. Thou lieſt, thou are not colted, thou art unhol.

Fal. I prethee good Prince Hal help me to my birth, good Kings Son.

Prin. Out you Rogue, ſhall I be your Oſtler?

Fal. Go hang thy ſelf in thy own heir-appearing Garters: If I be ta'n, Ple peach for this: and I have Ballads made on all, and ſung to filthy tunes, let a Cap lacke be my Poyson: when a jeaſt is ſo forward, and a foot too, I hate it.

Enter Gads-hill.

Gad. Stand.

Fal. So I do againſt my will.

Poyn. O 'tis our Setter, I know his voice: Bardolf, what News?

Bar. Cafe ye, cafe ye; on with your Vizards, then: Money of the Kings coming down the Hill, 'tis going the Kings Exchequer.

Fal. You lie, you Rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Taven.

Gad. There's enough to make us all.

Fal. To be hang'd.

Prin. You four ſhall front them in the narrow Lane, Ned and I will walk lower; if they ſcape from your counter, then they light on us.

Peto. But how many be of them?

Gad. Some eight or ten.

Fal. Will they not rob us?

Prin. What, a Coward, Sir John Paunch?

Fal. Indeed I am not John of Gaunt your Grandfather: but yet no Coward, Hal.

Prin. We'll leave that to the proof.

Poyn. Sirrah Jack, thy Horſe itands behind the Hedge when thou need'ſt him, there ſhalt thou find him, far well, and ſtand faſt.

Fal. Now I cannot ſtrike him if I ſhould be hang'd.

Prin. Ned, where are our Diguifes?

Poyn. Here hard by: Stand cloſe.

Fal. Now my Maſters, happy man be his dole ſay every man to his buſineſs.

Enter Travellers.

Tra. Come, Neighbour: the Boy ſhall lead our Horſe down the hill: We'll a foot a while, and eafe our Legs.

[Thereafter]

49

Fal. A Kings Son ? If I do not beat thee out of thy Kingdom with a Dagger of Lath, and drive all thy Subjects afore me like a flock of Wild-geese, Ple never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales ?

Prin. Why you horzon round man ? what's the matter ?

Fal. Are you not a Coward ? anfwer me to that, and Poynes there ?

Prin. Ye fat Paunch, and ye call me Coward, I'll flab thee.

Fal. I call thee Coward ? Ple fee thee damn'd e're I call thee Coward : but I would give a thoufand Pound I could run as faft as thou canft. You are ftreight enough in the shoulders, you care not who fees your back : Call you that backing of your Friends ? a Plague upon fuch backing : give me them that will face me. Give me a Cup of Sacks, I am a Rogue if I drunk to day.

Prin. O Villain, thy Lips are scarce wip'd, fince thou drunk't!ft laft.

Fal£. All's one for that.

[ He drinks.

A plague of all Cowards ftilld, fay I.

Prin. What's, the matter ?

Fal£. What's the matter ? here be four of us, have ta'ne a thoufand pound this Morning.

Prin. Where is it, Jack ? where is it ?

Fal£. Where is it ? taken from us, it is : a hundred upon poor four of us.

Prin. What, a hundred, man ?

Fal£. I am a Rogue, if I were not at half Sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have efcaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the Doublet, four through the Hofe, my Buckler cut through and through, my Sword hack'd like a Hand-faw, ece e Signum. I never dealt better fince I was a man : all would not do. A Plague of all Cowards : let them ſpeak ; if they ſpeak more or leſes than truth, they are Villains and the Sons of darkneſs.

Prin. Speak Sirs, how was it ?

Gad. We four fet upon fome dozen.

Fal£. Sixteen, bound at leaſt, my Lord.

Gad. And bound them.

Peto. No, no they were not bound.

Fal£. You Rogne they were bound, every man of them, or I am a Jew elfe, an Ebreu Jew.

Gad. As we were sharing, fome fix or ſeven freſh men fet upon us.

Fal£. And unbound the reſt, and then came in the other.

Prin. What, fought ye with them all ?

Fal£. All ? I know not what ye call all : bnt if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a Bunch of Radiſh : if there were not two or three and ſ fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legg'd Creature.

Poin. Pray Heaven, you have not murthered ſome of them.

Fal£. Nay, that's paſt praying for. I have pepper'd two of them : Two I am ſure I have payed, two Rogues in Buckrom Sutes. -I tell thee what, Hall, if I tell thee a Lye, ſpit in my face, call me Horſe: thou knoweſt my old word: here I lay and thus I bore my point ; four Rogues in Buckrom let drive at me.

Prince. What, four ? thou ſaid'ſt but two, even now.

Fal£. Four Hal, I told thee four.

Poin. I, I, he ſaid four.

Fal£. Theſe four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me ; I made no more ado, but took all their ſeven points in my Target, thus.

Prince. Seven ? why there were but four, even now.

Fal£. In Buckrom.

Poin. I, four, in Buckrom Sutes.

Fal£. Seven, by theſe Hilts, or I am a Villain elfe.

Prin. Prithee let him alone, we ſhall have more anon.

Fal£. Doeſt thou hear me, Hal ?

Prin. I, and mark thee too, Jack.

Fal£. Do fo, for it is worth the lifning too : theſe nine in Buckrom, that I told thee of.

Prin. So, two more already.

Fal£. Their Points being broken.

Poin. Down ſell his Hofe.

Fal£. Begane to give me ground : but I followed me cloſe, came in foot and hand ; and with a thought ſeven of the eleven I pay'd.

Prin. O monſtrous ! eleven Buckrom men grown out of two ?

Fal£. But as the Devil would have it, three miſ-beſotten Knaves, in Kendal Green, came at my Back, and let drive at me ; for it was ſo dark, Hal, that thou could'ſt not fee thy Hand.

Prin. Theſe Lyes are like the Father that begets them, groſs as a Mountain, open, palpable. Why thou Clay-brain'd Guts, thou Knotty-pated Fool, thou Horſon obſene greaſie Tallow Catch.

Fal£. What, art thou mad ? art thou mad ? is not the truth, the truth ?

Prin. Why, how could'ſt thou know theſe men in Kendal Green, when it was ſo dark, thou could'ſt not fee thy hand ? Come, tell us your Reaſon : what ſay'ſt thou to this ?

Poin. Come, your Reaſon Jack, your Reaſon.

Fal£. What, upon compulſion ? No : were I at the Strappado, or all the Racks in the World, I would not tell you on compulſion. Give you a Reaſon on compulſion ? If Reaſons were as plenty as Black-berries ; I would give no man a Reaſon upon compulſion, I.

Prin. Ple be ne longer guilty of this fin. This ſanguine Coward, this Bed-preſſer, this Horſ-back-breaker, this huge Hill of Fleſh.

Fal£. Away you Starveling, you Elf-skin, you dried Neats tongue, Bulls-piſſel, you ſtock-ſiſh : O for breath to utter. What is like thee ? You Tailors yard, you ſlneath, you Bow-ſafe, you vile ſtanding tuck.

Prin. Well, breath a-while, and then to't again : and when thou haſt tyr'd thy ſelf in bafe Compariſons, hear me ſpeak but thus.

Poin. Mark Jack.

Prin. We two, ſaw you four fet on four and bound them, and were Maſters of their Wealth : mark now, how a plain Tale ſhall put you down. Then did we two ; fet on you four, and with a word, outſac'd you from your Prize, and have it : ye, and can ſhow it you in the Houſe. And Falſaſſ, you carried your Guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and ſtill ran and roar'd, as ever I heard Bull-Calf. What a Slave art thou, to hack thy Sword as thou haſt done, and then ſay it was in fight. What trick ? what device ? what ſtarting hole canſt thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent ſhame ?

Poin. Come, let's hear Jack : What trick haſt thou now ?

Fal£. I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why hear ye my Maſters, was it for me to kill the Heir apparent ? Should I turn upon the true Prince ? Why, thou knoweſt I am as valiant as Hercules : but beware inſtinct, the Lion will not touch the true Prince : Inſtinct is a great matter. I was a Coward on Inſtinct : I ſhall think the better of my ſelf, and thee, during my life : I, for a valiant Lion and thou for a true Prince. But Lads, I am glad you have the Money. Hoſteſs, clap to the doors : watch to Night, pray to Morrow. Gallants, Lands, Boys, Hearts of Gold, all the good titles of Fellowship come to you. What, ſhall we be merry ? ſhall we have a Play extempore.

Prin. Content, and the argument shall be, thy running away.

Fal£. A, no more of that, Hal, if thou loveſt me.

Enter Hoſteſs.

Hoſſ. My Lord the Prince ?

Prin. How now, my Lady the Hoſteſs, what ſay'ſt thou to me ?

Hoſſ. Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the Court at door would ſpeak with you : he ſays he comes from your Father.

Prin. Give him as much as will make him a Royal man, and ſend him back again to my Mother.

F f

Fal£.

51

Falt. My Noble Lord, from East-cheap.

Prin. The Complaints I hear of thee, are grievous.

Falt. I faith, my Lord, they are false: Nay, I'll tickle
ye for a young Prince.

Prin. Sweareth thou, ungracious Boy ? henceforth
n'ere look on me: thou art violently carried away from
Grace: there's a Devil haunts thee, in the likenefs of
a fat old man; a Tun of Man is thy Companion: Why
do't thou converse with that Trunk of Humors, that
Boulting-Hutch of Beastlinefs, that fwohn Parcel of
Dropfies, that huge Bombard of Sack, that ftuft Cloak-
bag of Guts, that rofted Manning-Tree Oxe with the
Puddings in his Belly, that Reverend Vice, that grey Ini-
quity, that Father Ruffian, that Vanity in years, where-
in is he good, but to taſte Sack and drink it ? wherein
neat and cleanly, but to carve a Capon and eat it ? where-
in Cunning, but in Craft ? wherein Crafty, but in Vil-
lany ? wherein Villanus, but in all things ? wherein
worthy, but in nothing ?

Falt. I would your Grace would take me with you : whom means your Grace ?

Prin. That villanous abominable mif-leader of Youth,
Faltſaff, that old white-bearded Sathan.

Falt. My Lord, the man I know.

Prin. I know thou do'ſt.

Falt. But to ſay, I know more harm in him than in my ſelf, were to ſay more than I know. That he is old (the more's the pity) his white hairs do witneſs it: But that he is (laving your Reverence) a Whore-maſter, that I utterly deny. If Sack and Sugar be a ſault, Heaven help the wicked: if to be old and merry, be a ſin, then many a Hoſt that I know is damn'd: if to be fat, to be hated, then Pharaohns lean kine are to be loved. No, my good Lord, banilſ Peto, banilſ Bardolph, banilſ Poins : but for sweet Jack Faltſaff, kind Jack Faltſaff, true Jack Faltſaff, valiant Jack Faltſaff, and therefore more valiant, being as he is old Jack Faltſaff, banilſ not him thy Harry's company, banilſ not him thy Harry's company; banilſ plump Jack, and banilſ all the World.

Prin. I do, I will.

Enter Bardolph running.

Bard. O, my Lord, my Lord, the ſheriff with a moſt
monſtrous Watch, is at the door

Bard. Out you Rogue, play out the Play: I have much to ſay in the behalf of that Faltſaff.

Enter the Hofſteſ.

Hofſ. O, my Lord, my Lord.

Falt. Heigh, heigh, the Devil rides upon a Fiddle-
fick: what's the matter ?

Hofſ. The ſheriff and all the Watch are at the door:
they are come to ſearch the Houſe, ſhall I let them in?

Falt. Do't thou hear, Hal ? never call a true piece of
Gold a Counterfeit: thou art effentially mad, without
feeming ſo.

Prin. And thou a natural Coward, without inſtinct.
Falt. I deny your Major ; if you will deny the
Sheriff, ſo: if not, let him enter. If I become not a
Cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up:
I hope I ſhall as ſoon be ſtrangled with a Halter, as another.

Prince. Go hide thee behind the Arras, the reſt
walk up above. Now my Maſters, for a true Face and
good Conſcience.

Falt. Both which I have had : but their date is out,
and therefore I'll hide me.

Prin. Call in the ſheriff.

[Exit.]

Enter ſheriff and the Carrier.

Prince. Now Maſter ſheriff, what is your will with me ?

She. First, pardon me, my Lord. A Hue and Cry hath
followed certain men unto this Houſe.

Prin. What men ?

She. One of them is well known, my gracious Lord,
a groſs fat man.

Car. As fat as Butter.

Prin. The man, I do affure you is not here,
For my ſelf at this time have imploy'd him :
And ſheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will by to morrow Dinner time,
Send him to anſwer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withal.

And so let me intreat you, leave the Houſe.

She. I will, my Lord: there are two Gentlemen
Have in this Robbery left three hundred Marks.

Prin. It may be ſo : if he have robb'd theſe men,
He ſhall be anſwerable: and so farewell.

She. Good Night, my Noble Lord.

Prin. I think it is Good Morrow, is it not ?

She. Indeed, my Lord, I think it be two a clock. [Exit]
Prin. This oylly Rafeal is known as well as Pauls:
go call him forth.

Peto. Faltſaff ? ſaſt aſleep behind the Arras, and
florting like a Horſe.

Prin. Hark, how hard he fetches his breath: ſearch his
Pockets.

He ſearcheth his Pockets, and ſinderth
certain Papers.

Prin. What haſt thou found ?

Peto. Nothing but Papers, my Lord.

Prin. Let's ſee, what be they ? read them.

Peto. Item, a Capon.

Item, Sawce.

ii s ii d.

iii d.

Item, Sack, two Gallons.

v s. viii d.

Item, Anchoves and Sack after Supper.

ii s. vi d.

Item, Bread.

ob.

Prince. O monſtrous, but one half penny-worth of
Bread to this intolerable deal of Sack ? What there is
elſe, keep cloſe, we'll read it at more advantage : there
let him ſleep till day. I'll to the Court in the Morning :
We muſt all to the Wars, and thy place ſhall be honorable.
Ile procure this fat Rogue a Charge of Foot, and I
know his death will be a March of Twelve-score. The
Money ſhall be pay'd back again with advantage. Be with
me betimes in the Morning : ... and so good morrow Peto.

Peto. Good morrow, good my Lord.

[Exeunt.]

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Hotſpur, Worceſter, Lord Mortimer,
Owen Glendower.

Mort. These Promifes are fair, the Parties ſure;
And our Induction full of prosperous hope.

Hotſp. Lord Mortimer, and Couſin Glendower,

Will you fit down ?

And Uncle Woreſcer ; a plague upon it,

I have forgot the Map.

Glend. No, here it is :

Sit Couſin Percy, fit good Couſin Hotſpur :

For by that Name, as oft as Lancaſter doth ſpeak of you,
His Cheeks look pale, and with a riling ſigh,
He wilheth you in Heaven.

Hotſp. And you in Hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glen-
dower ſpoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: At my Nativity,
The front of Heaven was full of ſiery ſhapes,
Of burning Creſlets: and at my Birth,
The frame and foundation of the Earth
Shak'd like a Coward.

Hotſp. Why ſo it would have done at the fame Season,
if your Mothers Cat had but kitten'd, though your ſelf
had never been born.

F f 2

Glend

55

If not, the end of Life cancels all Bands,
And I will dye a hundred thoufand deaths,
E're break the smalleft parcel of this Vow.

King. An hundred thoufand Rebels die in this :

Thou haſt have charge, and Soveraign truſt herein.

Enter Blunt.

How now, good *Blunt* ? thy looks are full of *speed*.

*Blunt.* So hath the buſineſs that I come to ſpeak of.

Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath ſent word,
That *Dowglas* and the *English* *Rebels* met
The eleventh of this Month, at *Shrewsbury*:
A mighty and a ſtarful Head they are,

(If promises be kept on every hand)
As ever offered ſoul play in a State.

King. The Earl of Westmerland fet forth to day :

With him my Son, *Lord John of Lancaſter*,
For this Advertiſement is five days old.

On Wednesday next, *Harry*, thou hſalt fet forward :

On Thursday, we our ſelves will march.

Our meeting is *Bridgenorth* : And *Harry*, you ſhall march

Through Gloeſter-ſhire : By which account,

Our Buſineſs valued, ſome twelve days hence,

Our general ſorces at *Bridgenorth* ſhall meet.

Our hands are full of buſineſs: Let's away,

Advantage feeds them fat, while men delay.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Falſtaff, and Bardolph.

*Falſt.* Bardolph, am I not faln away vileſe, ſince this laſt action ? do I not bate ? do I not dwindle ? Why my skin hangs about me like an old Ladies loofe Gown: I am withered like an old Apple *John*. Well I'le repent, and that ſuddenly, while I am in ſome liking : I h'all be out of heart ſhortly, and then I h'all have no ſtrength to repent. And I have not forgotten what the inſide of a Church is made of, I am a Pepper Corn, a Brewers Horſe: The inſide of a Church. A Company, villanous Company hath been the ſpoil of me.

*Bard.* Sir *John*, you are ſo fretful, you cannot live long.

*Falſt.* Why there is it: Come, ſing me a bawdy Song, make me merry: I was as virtuouſly given, as a Gentleman need to be; virtuous enough, ſwore little, Dic'd not above ſeven times a week, went to a Bawdy-houſe not above once in a quarter of an hour, paid money that I borrowed three or four times : lived well, and in good compaſs : And now I live out of all order, out of compaſs.

*Bard.* Why, you are ſo fat, Sir *John*, that you muſt needs be out of all compaſs; out of all reaſonable compaſs, Sir *John*.

*Falſt.* Do thou amend thy Face, and I'le amend my Life. Thou art our Admiral, thou beareſt the Lantern in the Poop, but ?tis in the Nofe of thee; thou art the Knight of the burning Lamp.

*Bard.* Why, Sir *John*, my Face does you no harm.

*Falſt.* No, I'le be ſworn: I make as good uſe of it, as many a man doth of a Deaths-Head, or a *Memento Mori*. I never fee thy Face, but I think upon Hell fire, and *Dives* that lived in Purple; for there he is in his Robes burning. If thou wert any way given to Virtue, I would ſwear by thy Face; my Oath h'ould be, *By this Fire*: But thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the Light in thy Face, the Sun of utter Darkneſs. When thou rann't up *Gadi-bill* in the night to catch my Horſe, if I did not think thou hadſt been an *Ignis fatuns*, or a Ball of Wild-fire, there's no purchase in Money. O, thou art a perpetual Triumph, an everlaſting Bone-fire-light, thou haſt fav'd me a thouſand Marks in Links and Torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt Tavern and Tavern: But the Sack that thou haſt drunk me, would have bought me light as good cheap, at the

deareſt Chandlers in *Europe*. I have maintain'd that *Salamander* of yours with fire, any time this two and thirty years, Heaven reward me for it.

*Bard.* I would my Face were in your belly.

*Falſt.* So should I be ſure to be heart-burn'd,

Enter *Hofteſs*.

How now, Dame *Parlet* the Hen, have you enquir'd yet who pick'd my Pocket ?

*Hofteſs.* Why, Sir *John*, what do you think, Sir *John* ? do you think I keep Thieves in my Houſe ? I have fearch'd, I have enquir'd, ſo has my Husband. Man by Man, Boy by Boy, Servant by Servant: The tight of a Hair was never loft in my Houſe before.

*Falſt.* Ye lye, *Hofteſs*: Bardolph was ſhav'd, and loft many a hair ; and I'le be ſworn my Pocket was pick'd; go to, you are a Woman, go.

*Hofteſs.* Who I? I defie thee. I was never call'd ſo in mine own Houſe before.

*Falſt.* Go to, I know you well enough.

*Hofteſs.* No, Sir *John*: You do not know me, Sir *John*; I know you, Sir *John*: You owe me Money, Sir *John*, and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of Shirts to your back.

*Falſt.* Dowlas, filthy Dowlas: I have given them away to Bakers Wives, and they have made Boulters of them.

*Hofteſs.* Now as I am a true Woman, Holland of eight hilllings an Ell: You owe Money here besides, Sir *John*, for your Diet, and by-Drinking, and Money lent you, four and twenty pounds.

*Falſt.* He had his part of it, let him pay.

*Hofteſs.* He ? alas ! he is poor, he hath nothing.

*Falſt.* How ? poor ? look upon his face: What call you rich ? Let him coyn his Nofe, let him coyn his Cheeks, I'le not pay a Denier. What, will you make a Yonker of me ? Shall I not take mine eafe in mine Inn, but I h'all have my Pocket pick'd ? I have loft a Seal-Ring of my Grand-fathers, worth forty Mark.

*Hofteſs.* I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that Ring was Copper.

*Falſt.* How ? the Prince is a Jack, a Sneak-Cup: and if he were here, I would cudgel him like a Dog, if he would ſay ſo.

Enter the Prince marching, and Falſtaſſ meets him,
playing on his Truchion like a Fife.

*Falſt.* How now, Lad? is the wind in that Door ?

Muſt we all march ?

*Bard.* Yea, two and two, *Newgate* fashion.

*Hoft.* My Lord, I pray you hear me.

*Prince.* What ſay'ſt thou, Mifteſs *Quickly* ? How does thy Husband ? I love him well, he is an honest man.

*Hofteſs.* Good, my Lord, hear me.

*Falſt.* Prethee let her alone, and lift to me.

*Prince.* What ſay'ſt thou, *Jack*?

*Falſt.* The other night I fell aſleep here behind the Arras, and had my Pocket pickt: This Houſe is turn'd Bawdy-houſe, they pick Pockets.

*Prince.* What didſt thou loſe, *Jack*?

*Falſt.* Wilt thou believe me, *Hal* ? Three or four Bonds of forty pound a piece, and a Seal-Ring of my Grand-fathers.

*Prince.* A trifle, ſome eight-penny matter.

*Hoft.* So I told him, my Lord; and I faid, I heard your Grace ſay ſo: And (my Lord) he ſpeaks moſt vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd man as he is, and faid he would cudgel you.

*Prince.* What, he did not?

*Hoft.* There's neither Faith, Truth, nor Woman-hood in me elfe.

*Fal.* There's no more faith in thee than in a ſtude Prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn Fox: and for Woman-hood, Maid-Marian may be the Deputies Wife of the Ward to thee. Go you nothing, go.

*Hoft.*

And yet, in faith, 'tis not, his present want
Seems more than we shall find it,
Were it good, to fet the exact wealth of all our states
All at one Caft ? to fet so rich a Mine
On the nice hazard of one doubtful Hour,
It were not good : for therein should we read
The very bottom, and the Soul of hope,
The very Lift, the very utmost bound
Of all our Fortunes.

Dowg. Faith, and so we should,

Where now remains a sweet Reverence:
We may boldly spend, upon the hope
Of what is to come in:

A comfort of Retirement lives in this.

Hotp. A Rendezvous, a Home to flie unto,
If that the Devil and Mischance look big
Upon the Maidenhead of our Affairs.

Wor. But yet I would your Father had been here:
The Quality and Heir of our Attempt
Brooks no Divination: It will be thought
By fome, that know not why he is away,
That Widdom, Loyalty, and meer Dislike
Of our Proceedings, kept the Earl from hence:
And think, how such an Apprehension
May turn the Tide of fearful Faithood,
And breed a kind of Qnefion in our Caufe:
For well you know, we of the offering fide,
Must keep aloof from ftrict arbitrage,
And fop all fight-holes, every loop, from whence
The Eye of Reafon may prye in upon us:
This abfence of your Father draws a Curtain,
That flews the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.

Hotp. You ftrain too far.

I rather of his Abfence make this ufe:
It lends a luftre, and more great Opinion,
A larger Dare to your great Exterprize,
Than if the Earl were here : for men muſt think,
If we without his help, can make a Head
To pufh againſt the Kingdom : with his help,
We ſhall o’return it topſie-turvy down.

Yet all goes well, yet all our joynts are whole.

Dowg. As heart can think :

There is not ſuch a word spoke of in Scotland,
As this Dream of Fear.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

Hotp. My Couſin Vernon, welcome by my Soul.

Vern. Pray God my News be worth a welcome, Lord.
The Earl of Weſtmerland, feven thouſand ſtrong,
Is marching hither-wards with Prince John.

Hotp. No harm : what more ?

Vern. And further, I have learn’d,
The King himſelf in Perſon hath fet forth,
Or hither-wards intended ſpeedily,
With ſtrong and mighty Preparation.
Hotp. He ſhall be welcome too,

Where is his Son,

The nimble-footed Mad-cap, Prince of Wales,
And his Comrades, that daſt the World alide,
And bid it paſ ?

Vern. All furniſht, all in Arms,

All plum’d like Eſtridges, that with the Wind
Baited like Eagles, having lately bath’d,
Glittering in Golden Coats, like Images,
As full of Spirit as the Month of May,
And gorgeous as the Sun at Mid-fummer,

Wanton as youthful Goats, wild as young Bulls.
I ſaw young Harry with his Beaver on,
His Cuffes on his thighs, a gallantly arm’d,
Rife from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with ſuch eafe into his Seat,
As if an Angel dropt down from the Clouds,

To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,

And witch the world with noble Horſemanſhip.

Hotp. No more, no more ;

Worſe than the Sun in March,
This Praſe doth nouriſh Agues : let them come.
They come like Sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey’d Maid of ſmoaky War,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them:

The mailed Mars shall on his Altar fit
Up to the ears in Blood. I am on fire,
To hear this rich Reprizal is ſonigh,
And yet not ours. Come, let me take my Horſe,
Who is to bear me like a Thunder-bolt,
Againſt the boſom of the Prince of Wales.

Harry to Harry, shall not Horſe to Horſe

Meet, and ne’re part, till one drop down a Coarſe ?
Oh, that Glendower were come.

Ver. There is more News :

I learn’d in Worcester, as I rode along,

He cannot draw his Power this fourteen days.

Dowg. That’s the worſt Tidings that I hear of, yet.

Wyr. I, by my faith, that bears a frofty found.

Hotp. What may the Kings whole Battel reach unto?

Ver. To thirty thouſand.

Hor. Forty let it be,

My Father and Glendower being both away,

The Power of us may ſerve so great a day.

Come, let us take a Muſter ſpeedily :

Dooms-day is near ; die all, die merrily.

Dowg. Talk not of dying, I am out of fear

Of death, or deaths hand, for this one half year.

[ Exeunt omnes.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Fallaſt and Bardolph.

Falſt. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry, fill me a
Bottle of Sack, our Souldiers ſhall march through : we’ll
to Sutton-cop-hill to Night.

Bard. Will you give me Money, Captain ?

Falſt. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This Bottle makes an Angel.

Falſt. And if it do, take it for thy labour : and if it
make twenty, take them all, Ple anſwer the Coynage.
Bid my Lieutenant Peto meet me at the Towns end.

Bard. I will Captain : farewell.

[ Exit. ]

Falſt. If I be not affaſh’d of my Souldiers, I am a
ſowſt Gurnet : I have miſ-us’d the Kings Prefs dam-
nably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty
Souldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I preſ me
none but good houſe-holders, Yeomen Sons: enquire
me out contracted Batchelors, ſuch as had been ask’d
twice on the Banes: ſuch a Commodity of warm Slaves,
as had as lieve hear the Devil, as a Drum ; ſuch as fear
the report of a Caliver, worſe than a ftruck-Fool, or a
hurt Wild-Duck. I preſ me none but ſuch Toſtes and
Butter, with hearts in their Bellies no bigger than Pins
heads, and they have bought out their Services : And
now my whole Charge conſits of Ancients, Corporals,
Lieutenants, Gentlemen of Companies, Slaves as rag-
ged as Lazarus in the painted Cloth, where the Glut-
tons Dogs licked his Sores ; and ſuch as indeed were
never Souldiers, but diſ-carded juſt ſervingmen, youn-
ger Sons to younger Brothers : Revolted Tapſters and
Oſtlers, Trade-faln, the Cankers of a calm World, and
long Peace, ten times more diſhonourable, ragged, than
an old-fac’d Ancient ; and ſuch have I to fill up the
rooms of them that have bought out their Services : that
you would think, that I had a hundred and fifty tatter’d
Prodigals, lately come from Swine-keeping, from eating
Draff and Husks. A mad fellow met me on the way,
and told me, I had unloaded all the Gibbets, and preſt the
dead Bodies. No eye hath ſeen ſuch skar-Crows : I pre
not march though Coventry with them, that’s flat. Nay,
and

58

and the Villains march wide betwixt the Legs, as if
they had Gyves on ; for indeed, I had the moft of them
out of Prifon. There's not a Shirt and a half in all my
Company : and the half Shirt is two Napkins tack to-
gether, and thrown over the Shoulders like a Heralds
Coat, without sleeves: and the Shirt, to fay the truth,
ſtoln from my Holt of S. Albans ; or the Red-Noſe
Inn-keeper of Dayntry. But that's all one, they'l find
Linnen enough on every Hedge.

Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmerland.

Prince. How now, blown Jack? how now, Quilt ?

Falſt. What, Hal ? How now, mad Wag, what a De-
vil do't thou in Warwickshire ? My good Lord of West-
merland, I cry you mercy, I thought your Honour had al-
ready been at Shrewsbury.

Weſt. 'Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were
there, and you too: but my Powers are there already.
The King, I can tell you, looks for us all: we muſt away
all to Night.

Falſt. Tut, never fear me, I am as vigilant as a Cat,
to ſteal Cream.

Prince. I think to ſteal Cream indeed, for thy theft
hath already made thee Butter: but tell me, Jack, whose
Fellows are theſe that come after ?

Falſt. Mine, Hal, mine.

Prince. I did never fee ſuch picaſul Raſcals.

Falſt. Tut, tut, good enough to toſs: food for Pow-
der, food for Powder: they'll fill a Pit, as well as better:
tuſh man, mortal men, mortal men.

Weſt. I, but Sir John, methinks they are exceeding
poor and bare, too beggarly.

Fal. Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they
had that; and for their bareneſs, I am ſure they never
learn'd that of me.

Prin. No, I'le be ſworn, unleſs you call three fin-
gers on the Ribs, bare. But, firrah, make haſe. Percy is
already in the Field.

Falſt. What, is the King eneamp'd ?

Weſt. He is, John, I fear we haſt itay too long.

Falſt. Well, to the latter end of a Fray, and the
beginning of a Feaſt, fits a dull Fighter, and a keen
Gueſt.

[Exeunt]

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Hotſpur, Worcester, Dowglas, and Vernon.

Hotſp. We'll fight with him to Night.

Worc. It may not be.

Dowg. You give him then advantage.

Vern. Not a whit.

Hotſp. Why ſay you ſo ? looks he not for Supply ?

Vern. So do we.

Hotſp. His is certain, Ours is doubtful.

Worc. Good Couſin be advis'd, ſtir not to Night.

Vern. Do not, my Lord.

Dowg. You do not counsel well :

You ſpeak it out of fear, and cold heart.

Vern. Do me no flander, Dowglas: by my Life,

And I dare well maintain it with my Life,
If well-respected Honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear.

As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day lives.
Let it be seen to morrow in the Battel,
Which of us fears.

Dowg. Yea, or to night.

Vern. Content.

Hotſp. To night, ſay I.

Vern. Come, come, it may not be.

I wonder much, being men of ſuch great Leading as you are,

That you foreſee not what Impediments
Drag back our Expedition: certain Horſe
Of my Couſin Vernon's are not yet come up,
Your Uncle Worcester's Horſe came but to day,
And now their pride and mettle is alſleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a Horſe is half the half of himſelf.

Hotſp. So are the Horſe of the Enemy
In general, journey-bated, and brought low:
The better part of Ours are full of reſt.

Worc. The number of the Kings exceedeth ours:
For Gods ſake, Couſin, ſtay till all come in.

The Trumpet founds a Parley. Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King,
If you vouchſaſe me heating, and reſpect.

Hotſp. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt :

And would to God you were of our determination.
Some of us love you well: and even thofe ſome
Envy your great Deſervings, and good Name,
Becauſe you are not of our Quality,
But ſtand againſt us like an Enemy.

Blunt. And Heaven defend, but ſtill I ſhould ſtand ſo
So long as out of Limit, and true Rule,
You ſtand againſt Anointed Majeſty.

But to my Charge.

The King hath ſent to know
The Nature of your Grieſs, and whereupon
You conjure from the breaſt of Civil peace,
Such bold Hoftility, teaching his dutious Land
Audacious Cruelty. If that the King
Have any way your good Deſerts forgot,
Which he confelſeth to be maniſold,
He bids you name your Grieſs; and with all ſpeed
You shall have your deſires, with intereſt:
And Pardon abſolute for your ſelf, and theſe,
Herein mis-led by your ſuggelſtion.

Hotſp. The King is kind :
And well we know, the King
Knows at what time to Promife, when to Pay.

My Father, my Uncle, and my ſelf,

Did give him that fame Royalty he wears:
And when he was not ſix and twenty ſtrong,
Sick in the worlds regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded Out-law, ſneaking home,
My Father gave him welcome to the ſhore :
And when he heard him ſwear, and vow to God,
He came to be but Duke of Lancaſter,

To ſue out his Livery, and beg his Peace,
With tears of Innocency, and terms of zeal :
My Father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him alluſtance, and Perform'd it too.
Now, when the Lords and Barons of the Realm
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
They more and leſs came in with Cap and Knee,
Met him in Boroughs, Cities, Villages,
Attended him on Bridges, ſtood in Lanes,
Laid Gifts before him, proffer'd him their Oaths,
Gave him their Heirs, as Pages, followed him,
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.

He preſently, as greatneſs knows it ſelf,
Steps me a little higher than his Vow
Made to my Father, while his Blood was poor,
Upon the naked ſhore at Ravenſpurſ:

And now (forſooth) takes on him to reform
Some certain Edicts, and ſome ſtrait Decrees,
That lay too heavy on the Common-wealth ;
Cries out upon Abufes, ſeems to weep
Over his Counreys Wrongs: and by his Face,
This ſeeming Brow of Juſtice, did he win
The Hearts of all that he did angle for.

Proceeded further, cut me off the Heads
Of all the Favourites, that the absent King

In

["The first Part of King Henry the Fourth.", "59", "In deputation left behind him here,", "When he was personal in the Irish War.", "Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.", "Hot. Then to the point.", "In short time after, he depos'd the King,", "Soon after that, depriv'd him of his Life:", "And in the neck of that, task't the whole State.", "To make that worfe, suffer'd his kynfman March,", "Who is, if every Owner were right plac'd,", "Indeed his King, to be engag'd in Wales,", "There, without Ranfom, to lie forfeited:", "Disgrac'd me in my happy Victories,", "Sought to intrap me by intelligence,", "Rated my Uncle from the Council Boord,", "In rage diſnifs'd my Father from the Court,", "Broke Oath, committing Wrong on Wrong,", "And in conclusion, drôve us to feek out", "This Head of safety, and withall, to priè", "Into his Title: the which we find", "Too indirect, for long continuance.", "Blunt. Shall I return this anſwer to the King ?", "Hotp. Not ſo, Sir Walter.", "We'll withdraw a while:", "Go to the King, and let there be impawn'd", "Some fureity for a faſe return again:", "And in the morning early ſhall my Uncle", "Bring him our purpofe: and ſo farewell.", "Blunt. I would you would accept of Grace and Love.", "Hotp. And't may be, ſo we ſhall.", "Blunt. Pray Heaven you do.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Scena Quarta.", "Enter the Arch-Bifhop of York, and Sir Michel.", "Arch. Hie, good Sir Michel, bear this fealed Brief", "With winged haſte to the Lord Marſhal,", "This to my Conſin Scroop, and all the reſt", "To whom they are directed.", "If you knew how much they do import,", "You would make haſte.", "Sir Michel. My good Lord, I gueſs their tenour.", "Arch. Like enough you do.", "To morrow, good Sir Michel, is a day,", "Wherein the Fortuné of ten thouſand men", "Muſt bide the touch. For, Sir, at Shrewsbury,", "As I am truly given to underſtand,", "The King, with mighty and quick-raſed Power,", "Meets with Lord Harry: and I fear, Sir Michel,", "What with the ſickneſs of Northumberland,", "Whofe Power was in the firſt proportion ;", "And what with Owen Glendowers abſence thence,", "Who with them was rated firmly too,", "And comes not in, over-rul'd by Prophecies,", "I fear the Power of Percy is too weak,", "To wage an inſtant tryal with the King.\nSir Mich. Why, my good Lord, you need not fear,\nThere is Douglas, and Lord Mortimer.", "Arch. No, Mortimer is not there.", "Sir Mich. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Har-\nry Percy, and there is my Lord of Woreeſter,", "And a Head of gallant Warriours,\nNoble Gentlemen.", "Arch. And ſo there is, but yet the King hath drawn\nThe ſpecial head of all the Land together:", "The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaſter,", "The Noble Westmerland, and warlike Blunt;", "And many more Corrivals, and dear men", "Of Eſtimation, and Command in Arms.", "Sir M. Doubt not, my Lord, he ſhall be well oppoſ'd.", "Arch. I hope no leſs: Yet needful 'tis to fear,", "And to prevent the worſt, Sir Michel ſpeed", "For if Lord Percy thrive not e're the King\nDiſnifs his Power, he means to vilit us;", "For he hath heard of our Confederacy,", "And, 'tis but Wifdom to make ſtrong againſt him:", "Then fore make haſte, I muſt go write again", "To other Friends: and ſo farewell, Sir Michel.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.", "Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaſter,\nEarl of Westmerland, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falſtaff.", "King. How bloudily the Sun begins to peer\nA bove youn busky hill: the day looks pale", "At his Diſtemperature.", "Prin. The Southern wind", "Doth play the Trumpet to his purpofes,", "And by his hollow whiffling in the Leaves,", "Foretels a Tempeſt, and a bluſt'ring day.", "King. Then with the loſers let it ſympathize,\nFor nothing can ſeem fowre to them that win.", "Enter Woreeſter.", "King. How now, my Lord of Worſter ? 'Tis not well,\nThat you and I ſhould meet upon ſuch terms,", "As now we meet. You have deceiv'd our Truſt,", "And made us doff our eafe Robe of Peace,", "To cruſh our old Limbs in ungentle Steel:", "This is not well, my Lord, this is not well.", "What ſay you to it ? Will you again unknit", "This churlifh Knot of all-abhorred War ?", "And move in that Obedient Orb again,", "Where you did. give a fair and natural light,", "And be no more an exhal'd Météor,", "A Prodigie of Fear, and a Portent", "Of broached Mifchief, to the unborn Times?", "Wor. Hear me, my Liege :", "For mine own part, I could be well content", "To entertain the Lag-end of my life", "With quiet hours: For I do proteſt,", "I have not fought the day of this diſlike.", "King. You have not fought it: how comes it then ?", "Falſt. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.", "Prin. Peace, Chewet, peace.", "Wor. It pleas'd your Majeſty, to turn your looks\nOf Favour, from my Self, and all our Houſe ;", "And yet I muſt remember you, my Lord,", "We were the firſt, and deareſt of your Friends:", "For you, my Staff of Office did I break", "In Richard's time, and poſted day and night", "To meet you on the way, and kifs your hand,", "When yet you were in place, and in account", "Nothing ſo ſtrong and fortunate, as I;", "It was my ſelf, my Brother, and his Son,", "That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare", "The danger of the time. You ſware to us,", "And you did ſwear that Oath at Doncaſter,", "That you did nothing of purpofe againſt the State,", "Nor claim no further, than your new-faln right,", "The feat of Gaunt, Dukedom of Lancaſter.", "To this, we ſware our aid: But in ſhort ſpace,", "It rain'd down Fortune ſhowring on your head,", "And ſuch a ſloud of Greatneſs ſell on you,", "What with our help, what with the abſent King,", "What with the Injuries of wanton Time,", "The ſeeming Sufferances that you had born,", {"bbox":

6I

To gentle Exercise and proof of Arms,
He gave you all the Duties of a Man,
Trim'd up your Praises with a Princely Tongue,
Spoke your Defervencies like a Chronicle,
Making you ever better than his Praife,
By fill difpraiing Praife, valu'd with you:
And which became him like a Prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chide his Trewant youth for with a Grace,
As if he maftert there a double Spirit
Of teaching and of learning instantly:
There did he paufe. But let me tell the World,
If he out-live the Envy of this day,
England did never owe so fweet a hope,
So much mifconftrued in his Wantonneſs.

Hot. Couſin, I think thou art enamoured
Of his follies: never did I hear
Of any Prince fo wild at Liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once e're night,
I will embrace him with a Souldiers Arm,
That he ſhall ſhrink under my courteſie.
Arm, arm with ſpeed. And Fellows, Souldiers, Friends,
Better confider what you have to do,
Than 1, that have not well the gift of Tongue,
Can lift your Blood up with Perſwafion.

Enter a Melfenger.

Mef. My Lord, here are Letters for you.
Hor. I cannot read them now.
O Gentlemen, the time of life is ſhort;
To ſpend that ſhortneſs SAFely, were too long.
If life did ride upon a Dials point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour,
And if we live, we live ro tread on Kings:
If dye, brave death, when Princes dye with us.
Now for our Conſciences, the Arms is fair,
When the intent for bearing them is juſt.

Enter another Melfenger.

Mef. My Lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hor. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale:
For I profefs not talking : Only this,
Let each man do his beſt. And here I draw my Sword,
Whofe worthy temper I intend to ſtain
With the beſt blood that I can meet withall,
In the Adventure of this perillous day.
Now Efperance Percy, and fet on:
Sound all the lofty Inſtruments of War,
And by that Muſick, let us all embrace :
For Heaven to Earth, ſome of us never ſhall,
A ſecond time do ſuch a courteſie.

They embrace, the Trumpets found, the King entreth
with his Power, alarm unto the Battell. Then enter
Dowglas and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blu. What is thy Name, that in Battel thus thou croſſeſt
What Honour doſt thou ſeek upon my Head? (me ?)
Dow. Know then my name is Dowglas,
And do haunt thee in the Battel thus,
Becauſe ſome tell me, that thou art a King.
Blunt. They tell thee true.
Dow. The Lord of Stafford here to day hath bought
Thy likeneſs: for inſtead of thee, King Harry,
This Sword hath ended him, ſo ſhall it thee,
Unleſſs thou yield thee as a Prifoner.
Blu, I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,
And thou ſhall find a King that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.

Fight, Blunt is ſlau, then enters Hotſpur.

Hor. O Dowglas, hadſt thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triumphed o're a Scot.
Dow. All's done, all's won, here breathleſſ lies the King.
Hor. Where?

Dow. Here.
Hot. This, Dowglas? No, I know this face full well:
A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furniſh'd like the King himself.
Dow. Ah ſool : go with thy Soul whither it goes,
A borrowed Title haſt thou bought too dear.

Why didſt thou tell me, that thou wert a King ?
Hot. The King hath many marching in his Coats.
Dow. Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coats,
I'le murther all his Wardrobe piece by piece,
Untill I meet the King.

Hot. Up and away.
Our Souldiers ſtand full fairly for the day.
[Exeunt,

Alarm, and enter Falstaffe solus.

Fal. Though I could ſcape ſhot-free at London, I fear
the ſhot here: here's no ſcoring, but upon the pate. Soft,
who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt, there's Honour for you:
here's no Vanity, I am as hot as moulten Lead, and as
heavy too; Heaven keep Lead out of me, I need no more
weight than mine own Bowels. I have led my rag of
Muffians where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my
150 left alive, and they for the Towns end, to beg du-
ring life. But who comes here?

Enter Prince.

Prin. What ſtand it thou idle here? lend me thy Sword,
Many a Noble man lies ſtark and ſtiff.
Under the hooves of vaunting Enemies,

Whofe deaths are unreveſd. Prethee lend me thy Sword.
Fal. O Hal, I prethee give me leave to breathe a while.
Turk Gregory never did ſuch deeds in Arms, as I have don
this day. I have pay'd Percy, I have made him ſure.

Prin. He is indeed, and living to kill thee;
I prethee lend me thy Sword.

Falſt. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou getſt not my
Sword, but take my Piftol if thou wilt.

Prin. Give it me: What, is it in the Cafe ?

Fal. I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sack a City.

The Prince draws out a Bottle of Sack.

Prin. What, is it a time to jeſt and dally now? [Exit.
 Throws it at him.

Falſt. If Percy be alive. I'le pierce him: if he do come
in my way, ſo: if he do not, if I come in his (willingly)
let him make a Carbonado of me, I like not ſuch grinning
Honour as Sir Walter hath: Give me life, which if I can
fave, ſo: if not, Honour comes unlooke'd for, and there's
an end.
[Exit.

Scena Tertia.

Alarm, Excursions, enter the King, the Prince,
Lord John of Lancafter, and the Earle
of Westmerland.

King. I prethee, Harry, withdraw thy ſelf, thou bleed-
eſt too much: Lord John of Lancafter, go you with him.
P. John. Not I, my Lord, unleſſ I did bleed too.

Prin. I beſeech your Majety make up,
Leaſt your retirement do amaze your Friends.

King. I will do ſo:
My Lord of Westmerland, lead him to his Tent.
Weſt. Come my Lord, I'le lead you to your Tent.
Prin. Lead me, my Lord ? I do not need your help,
And Heaven forbid a ſhallow ſcratch ſhould drive
The Prince of Wales from ſuch a Field as this,
Where ſtain'd Nobility Iyes trodden on,
And Rebels Arms triumph in Maffacres.

John. We breathe too long: come Couſin Westmerland,
Our duty this way lies, for Heavens ſake come.

Prin. By Heaven thou haſt deceived me, Lancafter,

Gg

I did

The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.

68

O thou fond Many, with what loud applaue
Didst thou beat Heaven with bleefling *Bullingbrook*,
Before he was, what thou wouldst have him be?
And being now trim'd up in thine own desires,
Thou (beaftly Feeder) art so full of him,
That thou provok'd thy self to caft him up.
So, so, (thou common Dog) didst thou dilgorge
Thy glutton-bofom of the Royal *Richard*,
And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'dt to find it. What truſt is in theſe Times?
They, that when *Richard* liv'd, would have him die,
Are now become enamour'd on his grave.
Thou that threwt duſt upon his goodly head,
When through proud *London* he came fighting on,
After th'admired heels of *Bullingbrook*,
Cri'dt now, O Earth yield us that King again,
And take thou this, (O thoughts of men accurs'd)
Paſt, and to come, *seems beſt ; things preſent, worst*.
*Mov.* Shall we go draw our Numbers, and fet on ?
*Haſt.* We are Times ſubjects, and Time bids, be gon.

## Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

*Enter Hoſteſs, with two Officers, Fang, and Snare.*

*Hoſteſs, Mr. Fang, have you entred the Action ?*

*Fang. It is enter'd.*

*Hoſt. Where's your Yeoman ? Is it a luſty Yeoman ?*

*Will he ſtand to it ?*

*Fang. Sirrah, where's Snare ?*

*Hoſt. I, I, good Mr. Snare.*

*Snare. Here, here.*

*Fang. Snare, we muſt Arreſt Sir John Ealſtaff.*

*Hoſt. I, good Mr. Snare, I have enter'd him, and all.*

*Sn. It may chancè ſon of us our lives : he will ſtab.*
*Hoſt. Alas-the-day : take heed of him : he ſtab'd me in mine own Houſe, and that moſt beaſtly : he cares not what miſchief he doth, if his Weapon be out. He will foyn like any Devil, he will ſpare neither Man, *Woman*, nor Child.*

*Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thraſt.*

*Hoſt. No, nor I neither : Ple be at your Elbow.*

*Fang. If I but ſtand him once : if he come but within my Vice.*

*Hoſt. I am undone with his going : I warrant he is an infinitive thing upon my ſcore. Good Mr. Fang, hold him ſure ; good Mr. Snare, let him not ſcape, he comes continuſly to *Pie-corner* (faying your Manhoods) to buy a Saddle, and he is invited to dinner to the *Lubbards-head* in *Lombard-freeto* to Mr. Smooths the Silkman. I pray ye ſince my Action is enter'd, and my Caſe ſo openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his anſwer. A hundred Mark is a long one, for a poor lone Woman to bear : and I have born, and born, and born ; and have bin ſub'd off, and ſub'd off, from this day to that day, that it is a ſhame to be thought on. There is no honetly in ſuch dealing, unleſs a Woman ſhould be made an Aſ and a Beaſt, to bear every Knares wrong.

*Enter Falſtaſt and Bardolph.*

*Yonder he comes, and that artant Malmſey-Noſe *Bardolph* with him, do your Offices, do your Offices : Mr. Fang, and Mr. Snare, do me, do me, do me your Offices.*

*Fal. How now ? whose Mare's dead ? what's the matter ?*

*Fang. Sir *John*, I arreſt you at the ſuit of Milt. *Quickly.**

*Fal. Away Varlets, draw Bardolph : Cut me off the Villains head : throw the Quean in the Channel.*

*Hoſt. Throw me in the Channel ? Ple throw thee there. Wilt thou ? wilt thou ? thou baſtardly Rogue. Murder, murder : O thou Hony-fuckle Villain, wilt thou kill Gods Officers and the Kings ? O thou hony-feed Rogue, thou*

art a hony-feed, a Man-queller, and a Woman-queller.
*Fal. Keep them off, *Bardolph.*

*Fang. A reſcue, a reſcue.*

*Hoſt. Good people bring a reſcue. Thou wilt not ? thou wilt not ? Do, do thou Rogue : Do thou Hempfeed.*

*Fal. Away you Scullion, you Rampallian, you Uſtitulerian : Ple tuck your Cataſtrophe. [Enter Ch. Juſtice.]*

*Juſt. What's the matter ? Keep the Peace here, hoo.*

*Hoſt. Good my Lord, be good to me. I beſeeth you ſtand to me.*

*Ch. Juſt. How now, Sir *John* ? what are you brawling here? Doth this become your place, your time, and buſineſs ? You should have been well on your way to *Tork*.*

*Stand from him Fellow, wherefore hang'st upo n him?*

*Hoſt. Oh my moſt worſhipful Lord, and't pleaf your Grace, I am a poor Widow of Eaſtheap, and he is arreſted at my Suit.*

*Ch. Juſt. For what ſum ?*

*Hoſt. It is more than for ſome (my Lord) it is for all : all I have, he hath, eaten me out of houſe and home ? he hath put all my ſubſtance into that fat belly of his : but I will have ſome of it out again, or I will ride three Nights, like the Mare.*

*Fal. I think I am as like to ride the Mare, if I have any vantage of ground to get up.*

*Ch. Juſt. How comes this, Sir *John* ? Fie, what a man of good temper would endure this tempeſt of Exclamation ? Are you not alham'd to inſorce a poor Widow to rough a courſe to come by her own ?*

*Fal. What is the groſs Sum that I owe thee ?*

*Hoſt. Marry ? if thou wer't an honeſt man) thy ſelf, and the money too. Thou didſt ſwear me upon a parcel-gilt Goblet, fitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a ſea-cole fire, on *Wednesday* in *Whitmon*, when the Prince broke thy head for likening him to a kinging-man of *Windfor*; thou didſt ſwear to me then (as was wailing thy wound) to marry me, and make me my Lady thy Wife. Canſt thou deny it ? Did not Good-wife Keech, the Butcher's wife, come in then, and call me God-fip *Quickly* ? coming in to borrow a meſs of Vinegar: telling us, he had a good diſh of Prawns : whereby thou didſt define to eat ſome : whereby I told thee they were ill for a green wound ? And didſt not thou (when the was gone down ſtairs) define me to be no more familiar with ſuch poor people, faying, that e're long they ſhould call me Madam ? And didſt thou not kiſſ me, and bid me fetch thee thirty ſhillings ? I put thee now to the Book-oath, deny it if thou can't ?

*Fal. My Lord, this is a poor mad foul : and the ſays up and down the town, that her eldeſt Son is like you She hath been in good caſe, and the truth is, poverty hat diffracted her : but for theſe foolſh Officers, I beſeeth you, I may have redreſſs against them.*

*Juſt. Sir *John*, Sir *John*, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true Caufe, the falſe way. Is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words, that come with ſuch (more than impudent) ſawcines from you, can thraſt me from a level ſcification, I know you ha' practis'd upon the caſe-yielding ſpirit of this Woman.*

*Hoſt. Yes in troth, my Lord.*

*Juſt. Prethee, peace: pay her the Debt you owe her and unpay the Villian you have done her : the one you may do with ſterling-Money, and the other with currantRepentance.*

*Fal. My Lord, I will not undergo this ſneep without reply. You call Honorable Boldneſs Impudent ſawcines. If a man will curſe, and ſay nothing, he is Virtuons : No, my Lord (your humble duty remembred) I will not be your Sutor. I ſay to you, I define delivrance from theſe Officers being upon haſty Employment in the Kings Affairs.*

*Juſt. You ſpeak, as having power to do wrong : But anſwer in the Effect your Reputation, and fatſiſe the poor woman.*

*Fal. Come hither, Hoſteſſs. [Enter Mr. Gower.*

*Ch. Juſt. Now, Maſter Gower, what News ?*

*Gower.*

69

Gow. The King (my Lord) and Henry Prince of Wales are near at hand : The reft the Paper tells.

Fal. As I am a Gentleman.

Hof. Nay, you faid so before.

Fal. As I am a Gentleman, Come, no more words of it. Hoft. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I muft be fain to pawn both my Plate, and the Tapiftry of my Diving Chambers.

Fal. Glaſſes, glaſſes, is the onely drinking : and for thy walls a pretty flight Drollery, or the Story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in Water-work, is worth a thouſand of theſe Bed-hangings, and theſe Fly-bitten Tapiftries. Let it be ten pound (if thou canſt.) Come, if it were not for thy humours, there is not a but- Wench in England. Go, waſh thy face, and draw thy Action : Come, thou muſt not be in this humour with me, come, I know thou was't ſet on to this.

Hof. Prethee (Sir John) let it be but twenty Nobles, I am loth to pawn my Plate, in good earneſt la.

Fal. Let it alone, I'le make other shift : you'l be a fool ſtil.

Hof. Well, you ſhall have it, although I pawn my Gown. I hope you'll come to Supper : You'll pay me altogether ?

Fal. Will I live ? Go with her, with her : hook on, hook on.

Hof. Will you have Doll Tear-sheet meet you at fupper ?

Fal. No more words. Let's have her.

Ch. Juſt. I have heard bitter news.

Ch. What's the News, my good Lord ?

Ch. Juſt. VVhere lay the King laſt night ?

Mef. At Bafing-ſtoke, my Lord.

Fal. I hope (my Lord) all's well. VVhat is the News, my Lord ?

Ch. Juſt. Come all his Forces back ?

Mef. No: fifteen hundred Foot, and five hundred Horſe, are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaſter, againſt Northumberland and the Arch-Bifhop.

Fal. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble Lord ?

Ch. Juſt. You ſhall have Letters of me prefently.

Come, go along with me, good M. Gower.

Falſt. My Lord.

Ch. Juſt. VVhat's the matter ?

Fal. Maſter Gower, I ſhall entreat you with me to dinner.

Gow. I muſt wait upon my good Lord here.

I thank you, good Sir John.

Ch. Juſt. Sir John you loyter here too long, being you are to take Souldiers up in Countreys as you go.

Fal. Will you fup with me, Maſter Gower ?

Ch. Juſt. What foolifh Maſter taught you theſe man- ners, Sir John ?

Fal. Maſter Gower, if they become me not, he was a Fool that taught them me. This is the right Fencing grace (my Lord) tap for tap, and ſo part fair.

Ch. Juſt. Now the Lord lighten thee, thou art a great Fool.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Prince Henry, Poyns, Bardolf, and Page.

Prin. Truſt me, I am exceeding weary.

Poyn. Is it come to that ? I had thought wearines durſt not have attach'd one of ſo High Blood.

Prin. It doth me, though it diſcolours the complexi- on of my greatneſs to acknowledge it. Doth it not ſhow vilenely in me, to deſire ſmall Beer ?

Poyn. VVhy, a Prince ſhould not be ſo loofly ſtudied, as to remember ſo weak a Compoſition.

Prin. Belike then, my Appetite was not Princely got: for (in troth) I do now remember the poor Crea-

ture, Small Beer. But indeed theſe humble considerati- ons make me out of love with my Greatneſs. VVhat a diſgrace is it to me, to remember thy name ? or to know thy face to morrow ? or to take notice how many pair of Silk Stockings thou haſt ? ( viz. theſe, and theſe that were the peach-colour'd ones :) or to bear the Inventory of thy Shirts ; as one for ſuperfluity, and one other for uſe : but that the Tennis-Court Keeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebbe of Linnen with thee, when thou keepeſt not Racket there, as thou haſt not done a great while, becauſe the reſt of thy Low Countreys have made a ſhift to eat up thy Holland.

Poin. How ill it ſollows, after you have labour'd ſo hard, you ſhould talk ſo idlely ? Tell me how many good young Princes would do ſo, their Fathers lying ſo ſick, as yours is ?

Prin. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poyns ?

Poyn. Yes: and let it be an excellent good thing.

Prin. It ſhall ſerve among VVits of no higher breed- ing than thine.

Poyn. Goto: I ſtand the puſh of your one thing, that you'll tell.

Prin. VVhy, I tell thee, it is not meet that I ſhould be ſad now my Father is ſick: albeit I could tell to thee (as to one it pleafes me, for fault of a better, to call my Friend) I could be ſad, and ſad indeed too.

Poyn. Very hardly upon ſuch a Subject.

Prin. Thou think't me as far in the Devils Book, as thou, and Falſtaſſ, for obduracy and perſtiffency. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds in- wardly, that my Father is ſick: and keeping ſuch vile company as thou art, hath in Reaſon taken from me, all oftention of forrow.

Poyn. The Reaſon ?

Pr. VVhat would'ſt thou think of me, if I ſhould weep?

Poyn. I would think thee a moſt Princely Hypocrite.

Prin. It would be every man ſought : and thou art a bleſſed Fellow, to think as every man thinks: never a man's thought in the world keeps the rode-way better than thine: every man would think me an Hypocrite in- deed. And what excites your moſt VVorſhipful thought to think ſo ?

Poyn. VVhy, becauſe you have been ſo lewd, and ſo much ingraſſed to Falſtaſſ.

Prin. And to thee,

Poyn. Nay, I am well ſpoken of, I can hear it with mine own ears: the worſt that they can ſay of me is, that I am a ſecond Brother, and that I am a proper Fellow of my hands; and theſe two things I confes I cannot help. Look, look, here comes Bardolf.

Prin. And the Boy that I gave Falſtaſſ: he had him from me Chriſtian, and fee if the fat Villain have not transform'd him Ape.

Bar. Save your Grace.

Prin. And yours, moſt Noble Bardolf.

Poyn. Come you pernicious Aſſ, you baſſful Fool, muſt you be bluſhing ? wherefore bluſh you now ? what a Maidenly man at Arms are you become ? Is it ſuch a matter to get a Pottle-pots Maidendead ?

Page. He call'd me even now (my Lord) through a red Lattice, and I could diſcern no part of his Face from the Window; at laſt I ſpy'd his Eyes, and methought he had made two holes in the Ale-wives new Petticoat, and peep- ed through.

Prin. Hath not the Boy profited ?

Bar. Away, you horſon upright Rabbet, away.

Pag. Away you rafcally Althea's dream, away.

Prin. Inſtruct us, Boy, what dream, Boy ?

Pag. Marry (My Lord) Althea dream'd, ſhe was deliv- er'd of a Firebrand, and therefore I call him her dream.

Prince. A Crowns-worth of good Interpretation : There it is, Boy.

Poin. O that this good Bloſſom could be kept from Cankers: Well, there is ſix pence to preſerve thee.

Bard.

Bard. If you do not make him hang'd among you,
the Gallows shall be wrong'd.

Prin. And how doth thy Master, Bardolph ?

Bard. Well, my good Lord: he heard of your Graces
coming to Town. There's a Letter for you.

Prin. Deliver'd with good respect: And how doth the Martlemas, your Master ?

Bard. In bodily health, Sir.

Poin. Marry, the immortal part needs a Physician:
but that moves not him: Though that be sick, it dyes not.

Prin. I do allow this VVen to be as familiar with me
as my Dog. And he holds his place, for look you how
he writes.

Poin. Letter, John Falstaff Knight: (Every man must
know that, as oft as he hath occasion to name himself:)
Even like those that are kin to the King, for they never
prick their finger, but they say there is some of the Kings
blood spilt. How comes that? (says he that takes upon
him not to conceive) the Anfwer is as ready as a borrow-
ed Cap: I am the Kings poor Couſin, Sir.

Prin. Nay, they will be kin to us, but they will fetch
it from Japhet. But to the Letter:—Sir John Falstaff
Knight, to the Son of the King, neareſt his Father, Harry
Prince of VVales, greeting.

Poin. VVhy this is a Certificate.

Prin. Peace.

I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity.

Poin. Sure he means brevity in breath: ſhort-winded.

I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee.

Be not too familiar with Poins, for he miſures thy Favourſs
ſo much; that he ſwears thou art to marry his Sifter.

Nell. Repent at idle times as thou maſſ, and ſo farewell.

Thine, by yea and no: Which is as much as to ſay,
as thou uſeſt him. Jack Falſtaff with my Familiars?

John with my Brothers and Sifter: and Sir John
with all Europe.

My Lord, I will ſteep this Letter in Sack, and make him
eat it.

Prin. That's to make him eat twenty of his VVords.

But do you uſe me thus, Ned ? Muſt I marry your Sifter ?

Poin. May the VVench have no worſe Fortune. But I
never faſd ſo.

Prin. VVell, thus we play the Fool with the time, and
the Spirits of the VVife fit in the Clouds, and mock us:
Is your Maſter here in London ?

Bard. Yes, my Lord.

Prin. VVhere ſups he? Doth the old Boor feed in
the old Frank?

Bard. At the old place, my Lord, in Eaſt-cheap.

Prin. VVhat Company ?

Page. Ephesians, my Lord, of the old Church.

Prin. Sup any VVomen with him ?

Page. None, my Lord, but old Miftriffs Quickly, and
Mrs. Dol Tear-sheer.

Prin. What Pagan may that be?

Page. A proper Gentlewoman, Sir, and a Kinfwoman
of my Maſters.

Prin. Even ſuch Kin, as the Parifh Heyfers are to the
Town-Bull ?

Shall we ſteal upon them (Ned) at Supper ?

Poin. I am your ſhadow, my Lord, Ile follow you.

Prin. Sirrah, you Boy, and Bardolph, no word to your
Maſter that I am yet in Town.

There's for your Silence.

Bar. I have no Tongue, Sir.

Pag. And for mine, Sir, I will govern it.

Prin. Fare ye well: Go.

This Dol Tear-sheer ſhould be ſome Rode.

Prin. I warrant you, as common as the way between
S. Albans and London.

Prin. How might we fee Falſtaſſ beſtow himſelf to
night in his true Colours, and not our ſelves be ſeen ?

Poin. Put on two Leather Jerkins, and Aprons, and
wait upon him at his Table, like Drawers.

Prin. From a God to a Bull ? A heavy declension: It
was Jove's cafe. From a Prince to a Prentice, a low tranſ-
formation, that ſhall be mine: For in every thing, the per-
pope muſt weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned. [Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Northumberland, his Lady, and Harry Percie's Lady.

North. I prethee loving Wife, and gentle Daughter,
Give an even way unto my rough Affairs.
Put not you on the Visage of the Times,
And be like them to Percie, troubleſome.

Wife. I have given over; I will ſpeak no more;
Do what you will: Your Wifdom be your Guide.

Nor. Alas (ſweet Wife) my Honour is at Pawn,
And but my going, nothing can redeem it.

La. Oh yet, for Heavens ſake, go not to the theſe Wans.
The Time was (Father) when you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it, than now,
When your own Percie, when my heart-dear-Harry,
Threw many a Northward look, to fee his Father
Bring up his Powers: But he did long in vain.
Who then perſwaded you to ſlay at home ?

There were two Honours loft; yours and your Sons.

For Yours, may heavenly glory brighten it:

For His, it ſtuck upon him, as the Sun

In the grey Vault of Heaven: And by his Light

Did all the Chevalry of England move

To do brave Acts. He was (indeed) the Glaſs

VWherein the Noble-Youth did dreſs themſelves.

He had no Legs, that praeſis'd not his Gate:

And ſpeaking thick (which Nature made his blemish)

Became the Accents of the Valiant,

For those that could ſpeak low, and tardily,

VVould turn their own Perfection to Abuſe,

To ſeem like him. So that in Speech, and Gate,

In Diet, in Aſfections of delight,

In Military Rules, Humors of Blood,

He was the Mark, and Glaſs, Copy, and Book,

That ſaſhion'd others. And him, O wondrous! him,

O Miracle of Men! Him did you leave

(Second to none) un ſeconded by you,

To look upon the hideous God of VVar,

In diſadvantage, to abide the Field,

VWhere nothing but the found of Hotfur's Name

Did ſeem ſenſible: So you left him.

Never, O never do his Ghoſt the wrong,

To hold your Honour more precife and nice

VWith others, than with him. Let them alone:

The Marſhal and the Arch-bifhop are ſtrong.

Had my ſweet Harry had but half their Number,

Today might I (hanging on Hotfur's Neck)

Have talk'd of Monmouth's Grave.

North. Beſhrew your heart,

(Fair Daughter) you do draw my Spirits from me,
VWith new lamenting ancient Over-fights.

But I muſt go, and meet with danger there.

Or it will ſeek me in another place,

And find me worſe provided.

Wife. O flye to Scotland,

Till that the Nobles, and the armed Commons,
Have of their Puſſance made a little taſe.

Lady. If they get ground, and vantage of the King,
Then joyn you with them, like a Rib of Steel,
To make Strength ſtronger. But, for all our loves,
First let them try themſelves. So did your Son,
He was ſo ſuffer'd; ſo came I a VVidow:

And never ſhall have length of Life enough,

To rain upon Remembrance with mine Eyes,

That it may grow, and ſprowt, as high as Heaven,

73

Fal. A better than thou: I am a Gentleman, thou art a Drawer.

Prin. Very true, Sir : and I come to draw you out by the Ears.

Hoft. Oh, the Lord preferveth thy good Grace: Wellcome to London. Now Heaven bleffes that sweet Face of thine : What are you come from Wales ?

Fal. Thou whorfon mad Compound of Majefty : by this light Fleſh, and corrupt Blood, thou art welcome.

Prin. How ? you fat Fool, I ſcorn you.

Poin. My Lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to merriment, if you take not the heat.

Prin. You whorfon Candle-myne you, how vilely did you ſpeak of me even now, before this honest, vertuous, civil Gentlewoman ?

Hoft. 'Bleſſing on your good heart, and ſo ſhe is by my troth.

Fal. Didſt thou hear me ?

Prince. Yes : and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gads-hill : you knew I was at your back, and ſpol : it on purpose, to try my patience.

Fal. No, no, no : not ſo : I did not think, thou waſt within hearing.

Prin. I ſhall drive you then to confefſs the wilful abufe, and then I know how to handle you.

Fal. No abufe (Hal) on mine Honor, no abufe.

Prin. Not to diſpraife me ? and call me Pantler, and Bread-chopper, and I know not what ?

Fal. No abufe, (Hal.)

Poin. No abufe ?

Fal. No abufe (Ned) in the World : honest Ned, none. I diſpraids'd him before the Wicked, that the Wicked might not fall in love with him : In which doing, I have done the part of a careful Friend, and true Subject, and thy Father is to give me thanks for it. No abufe (Hal:) none (Ned) none ; no Boys, none.

Prin. See now whether pure Fear, and entire Cowardife, doth not make thee wrong this vertuous Gentlewoman, to cloſe with us ? Is ſhe of the Wicked ? Is thine Hoftefs here, of the Wicked ? Or is the Boy of the Wicked ? Or honest Bardolph (whoſe zeal burns in his noſe) of the Wicked ?

Pom. Anſwer, thou dead Elm, anſwer.

Fal. The Fiend hath Prickt down Bardolph irrecoverable, and his face is Lucifer's Privy-Kitchin, where he doeth nothing but roaſt Mault-Worms : for the Boy, there is a good Angel about him, but the Devil out-bids him too.

Prin. For the Women ?

Fal. For one of them, ſhe is in Hell already, and burns poor ſouls : for the other, I owe her Money; and whether he be damn'd for that, I know not.

Hoft. No. I warrant you.

Fal. No. I think thou art not : I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another Indictment upon thee, for suffering ſleſh to be eaten in thy houſe, contrary to the Law, for the which I think thou wilt howle.

Hoft. All Viciuallers do ſo : What is a Joynt of Mutton or two in a whole Lent ?

Prin. You, Gentlewoman.

Dol. What ſays your Grace ?

Falſt. His Grace ſays that, which his ſleſh rebels againſt.

Hoft. Who knocks ſo loud at the door ? Look to the door there, Francis ?

Enter Peto.

Prin. Peto, how now ? what news ?

Peto. The King, your Father, is at Westminſter, And there twenty weak and wearied Poſts, Come from the North : and as I came along, I met, and over-took a dozen Caprains, Bare-headed, fweating, knocking at the Taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falſtaſſ.

Prin. By Heaven (Poins) I feel me much to blame,

So idly to prophane the precious time;

When Tempeſt of Commotion, like the South Born with black Vapour, doth begin to melt, And drop upon our bare unarmed Heads.

Give me my Sword, and Cloak:

Falſtaſſ, good night.

[Exit.]

Falſt. Now comes in the fweeteſt Morſel of the night, and we muſt hence, and leave it unpickt. More knocking at the door ? How now ? what's the matter ?

Bard. You muſt away to the Court, Sir, prefently, A dozen Captains ſtay at the door for you.

Falſt. Pay the Mufitians, Sirra : farewel Hofteſſs, farewel Dol. You fee (my good Wenches) how men of Merit are fought after : the undeferver may ſleep, when the man of Action is call'd on. Farewel, good Wenches : if I be not ſent away poſſ, I will fee you again, e're I go.

Dol. I cannot ſpeak : if my heart be not ready to burſt. Well (ſweet Jack) have a care of thy ſelf.

Falſt. Farewel, farewel.

[Exit.]

Hoft. Well, fare thee well : I have known thee theſe twenty nine years, come Pefcod-time: but an honester, and true-hearted man. Well, fare thee well.

Bard. Miftrifs Tearſheet.

Hoft. What's the matter ?

Bard. Bid Miftrifs Tearſheet come to my Maſter.

Hoft. O run, Dol, run : run, good Dol.

[Exeunt.]

Enter the King, with a Page.

Kin. Go, call the Earls of Surrey, and Warwick: But e're they come, bid them o're-read theſe Letters.

And well confider of them : make good ſpeed.

[Exit.]

How many thouſand of my pooreſt Subjects

Are at this hour ſleep ? O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Natures ſoft Nurſe, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my Eye-lids down, And ſleep my Senſes in Forgetfulneſſ ?

Why rather (Sleep) lyeſt thou in ſmoakies, Cribs, Upon uneaſie Pallads stretching thee, And huffit with buzzing Night, flyes to thy flumber, Than in the perfum'd Chambers of the Great ?

Under the Canopies of coſtly State,

And lull'd with ſounds of fweeteſt Melody ?

O thou dull God, why lyeſt thou with the vile, In loathſom Beds, and leav't the Kingly Couch A watch-caſe, or a common Larum-Bell ?

Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy Maſt, Seal up the Ship-boys Eyes, and rock his Brains, In Cradle of the rude imperious Surge, And in the viſitation of the Winds,

Who take the Ruffian Billows by the top, Curling their monſtrous heads and hanging them With deafn'ing Clamours in the flip'ry Clouds, That with the hurley, Death it ſelf awakes ?

Canſt thou (O partial Sleep) Give thy Repoſe To the wet Sea-boy in an hour ſo rude:

And in the calmehr, and moſt ſtilleſt Night, With all appliances, and means to boot,

Deny it to a King ? Then happy Low, lye down, Uneaſie lyes the Head, that wears a Crown.

Enter Warwick and Surrey.

War. Many good-morrows to your Majeſty.

King. It is good-morrow, Lords ?

War. 'Tis one a Clock, and paſſ.

King. Why then good-morrow to you all (my Lords :)

Have you read o're the Letters that I ſent you ?

H h

War.

74.

War. We have (my Liege.)
King. Then you perceive the Body of our Kingdom,
How foul it is: what rank Dileafes grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it?

War. It is but as aBody, yet diftemper'd,
Which to the former ſtrength may be reitor'd,
With good advice, and little Medicine;
My Lord, Northumberland will ſoon be cooPd.

King. Oh Heaven, that one might read the Book of Fate,
And fee the Revolution of the Times
Make Mountains level, and the Continent
(Weary of folid firmneſs) melt it ſelf
Into the Sea, and other Times, to fee
The beachy Girdle of the Ocean

Too wide for Neptunes hipps; how Chances mocks
And Changes fill the Cup of Alteration
With divers Liquors. 'Tis not ten years gone,
Since Richard, and Northumberland, great Friends,
Did feaſt together; and in two years after,
Were they at Wars. It is but eight years ſince,
This Percie was the man, neareſt my Soul;
Who like a Brother, toyl'd in my Affairs,
And laid his Love and Life under my foot:

Yea, for my ſake, even to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by,
(You Couſin Nevil, as I may remember)
When Richard, with his Eye, brim-full of Tears,
(Then check'd, and rated by Northumberland)

Did ſpeak theſe words (now prov'd a Prophecie :
Northumberland, thou Ladder, by the which
My Couſin Bullinbrook, aſcends my THRONE:

(Though then, Heaven knows, I had no ſuch intent,
But that neceſſity ſo bow'd the State,
That I and Greatneſs were compell'd to kifs:)  
The time ſhall come (thus did he follow it)
The time will come, that foul Sin-gathering head
Shall break into Corruption: ſo went on,
Fore-telling this fame Times Condition,
And the division of our Amity.

War. There is a Hiftory in all mens Lives,
Figuring the Nature of the Times deceas'd.
The which obſerv'd, a man may prophecie,
With a near aim, of the main Chance of things
As yet not come to Life, which in their Seeds
And weak beginnings lye entrefaured:
Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time;
And by the neceſſary form of this,
King Richard might create a perfect gueſs,
That great Northumberland, then falie to him,
Would of that Seed, grow to a greater falſenefs,
Which ſhould not find a ground to root upon,
Unleſs on you.

King. Are theſe things then Necefſities ?
Then I't us meet them like Necefſities;
And that fame word, even now cryes out on us:
They ſay the Bifhop and Northumberland
Are fifty thouſand ſtrong.

War. It cannot be (my Lord :)
Rumor doth double, like the Voice and Eccho,
The number of the feared. Pleafe it your Grace
To go to bed, upon my Life (my Lord)
The Powrs that you already have ſent forth,
Shall bring this Prize in very eafily.

To comfort you the more, I have receiv'd
A certain, inſtance that Glendower is dead.
Your Majefty hath been this forſt-night ill,
And theſe unfeafon'd hours perſorce muſt add
Unto your Sickness.

King. I will take your counſel:
And were theſe in ward Wars once out of hand,
We would (dear Lords) unto the Holy-Land.

[ Exeunt ]

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Shallow and Silence, with Mouldy, and Shallow
Wart, Feeble, Bull-calf.

Shal. Come-on, come-on, come-on : give me you,
Hand, Sir, give me your Hand, Sir : an early flurry,
the Rood. And how doth my good Couſin Silencie?

Shal. Good-morrow, good Couſin Shallow.

Shal. And how doth my Couſin, your Bed-fellow,
and your faireſt Daughter, and mine, my God-Daugh-
Ellen?

Sil. Alas, a black Ouzel, (Couſin Shallow.)

Shal. By yea and nay, Sir, I dare ſay my Couſin Will
is become a good Scholar? he is at Oxford ſtill, is he not?

Sil. Indeed, Sir, to my coſt.

Shal. He muſt then to the Inns of Court ſhortly: I will
once of Clement's Inn; where (I think) they will tal-
mad Shallow yet.

Sil. You were call'd luſty Shallow then, (Couſin.)

Shal. I was call'd any thing : and I would have do-
any thing indeed too, and roundly too. There was I,
little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George
and Francis Pick-bone, and Will: ſquene a Cot-ſaſ-
you had not four ſuch Swinge-bucklers in all the Inns
of Court again: And I may ſay to you, we knew who
the Bona-Roba's were, and had the beſt of them all at
commandement. Then was Jack Falſtaff (now Sir John
a Boy, and a Page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of
Norfolk.)

Sil. This Sir John, (Couſin) that comes hither and
about Souldiels?

Shal. The fame Sir John, the very fame: I ſaw him
break Schoggan's Head at the Court-Gate, when he was
a Crack, not thus high: and the very fame day did ſell
with one Sampson Stock-ſifth, a Fruiterer, behind
Coun-
Inn. Oh the mad days that I have ſpent ! and to ſell
many of mine old Acquaintance are dead?

Sil. We ſhall all follow, (Couſin.)

Shal. Certain: 'tis certain: very ſure, very ſin-
Death is certain to all, all ſhall dye. How a good
of Bullocks at Stamford Fair?

Sil. Truly, Couſin, I was not there.

Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your Town
living yet?

Sil. Dead, Sir.

Shal. Dead ? See, fee: he drew a good Bow: and
dead ? he ſhot a fine floot. John of Gaunt loved him
well, and betted much Money on his head. Dead ? he
would have clapt in the Clowt at Twelve-score, and a
ryed you a fore-hand Shaft at fourteen, and fourteen an
a half, that it would have done a mans heart good to ſet.
How a ſcore of Ewes now?

Sil. Thereafter as they be : a ſcore of good Ewes
be worth ten pounds.

Shal. And is old Double dead?

## Enter Bardolph and his Boy.

Sil. Here come two of Sir John Falſtaſſ's men (as
think.)

Shal. Good-morrow, honeſt Gentlemen.

Bard. I beſeech you, which is Juſtice Shallow?

Shal. I am Robert Shallow (Sir) a poor Efquire of this
County, one of the Kings Juſtices of the Peace:
What is your good pleafure with me?

Bard. My Captain, (Sir) commends him to you: my
Captain, Sir John Falſtaſſ: a tall Gentleman, and a mod-
gallant Leader.

Shal. He greets me well: (Sir) I knew him a good
Back-Sword-man. How doth the good Knight? may I
ask, how my Lady his Wife doth?

75

Bard. Sir, pardon : a Souldier is better accommodated, than with a Wife.

Shal. It is well faid, Sir; and it is well faid indeed, too: Better accommodated? it is good, yea indeed is it: good phraes are purell and every where very commendable. Accommodated, it comes of Accommodo: very good, a good phrafe.

Bard. Pardon, Sir, I have heard the word. Phrafe, call you it? by this day, I know not the Phrafe: but I will maintain the Word with my Sword, to be a Souldier-like Word, and a Word of exceeding good Command. Accommodated: that is, when a man is (as they fay) accommodated: or, when a man is, being whereby he thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

Enter Faltaff.

Shal. It is very juſt: Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your hand, give me your Worlhip's good hand: Truſt me, you look well: and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.

Falt. I am glad to fee you well, good Maſter Robert Shallow: Maſter Sure-card, as I think?

Shal. No, Sir John, it is my Couſin Silence: in Comſmion with me.

Falt. Good Maſter Silence, it well beſts, you ſhould be of the Peace.

Sil. Your good Worlhip is welcome.

Falt. Fie, this is hot weather, (Gentlemen) have you provided me here half a dozen of ſufficient men?

Shal. Marry have we, Sir: Will you fit?

Falt. Let me fee them, I beſeeth you.

Shal. Where's the Roll? Where's the Roll? Where's the Roll? Let me fee, let me fee, let me fee: fo, fo, fo, fo: yea marry, Sir, Ralph Mouldy: let them appear as I call: let them do fo, let them do fo: Let me fee, Where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, if it pleafe you.

Shal. What think you (Sir John) a good limb'd Fel- low: young, ſtrong, and of good Friends.

Falt. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, if it pleafe you.

Falt. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, moſt excellent. Things that are mouldy, lack uſe: very ſingular good. VVell faid, Sir John, very well ſaid.

Falt. Prick him.

Moul. I was prickt well enough before, if you could have let me alone: my old Dame will be undone now, for one to do her Husbandry, and her Drudgery; you need not to have prickt me, there are other men ſitter to go out than I.

Moul. Go to: peace Mouldy, you ſhall go. Mouldy, it is time you were ſpent.

Moul. Spent?

Shal. Peace, fellow, peace; ſtand afide: Know you where you are? For the other, Sir John: Let me fee: Simon Shadow.

Falt. I marry, let me have him to fit under: he's like to be a cold Souldier.

Shal. Where's Shadow?

Shad. Here, Sir.

Falt. Shadow, whoſe Son art thou?

Shad. My Mother's Son, Sir.

Falt. Thy Mother's Son: like enough, and thy Fath- ers Shadow: fo the Son of the Female is the Shadow of the Male: it is often fo indeed, but not of the Fathers ſubſtance.

Shal. Do you like him, Sir John?

Shal. Shadow will ſerve for Summer: prick him: For we have a number of ſhadows to fill up the Muſter-Book:

Shal. Thomas Wart.

Falt. Where's he?

Wart. Here, Sir.

Falt. Is thy name Wart?

Wart. Yea, Sir.

Falt. Thou art a very ragged Wart.

Shal. Shall I prick him down,

Sir John?

Falt. It were ſuperfluous: for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame ſtands upon pins: prick him no more.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, you can do it, Sir: you can do it: I commend you well.

Francis Feeble.

Feeble. Here, Sir.

Shal. What Trade art thou, Feeble?

Feeble. A Woman's Taylor, Sir?

Shal. Shall I prick him, Sir?

Falt. You may:

But if it had been a Man's Taylor, he would have prick'd you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an Enemies Batel, as thou haſt done in a Woman's Petticoat?

Feeb. I will do my good will, Sir? you can have no more.

Falt. Well faid, good Woman's Taylor: Well faid, Couragious Feeble: thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful full Dove, or moſt magnanimous Mouſe. Prick the woman's Taylor well, Maſter Shallow, deep, Maſter Shallow.

Feeble. I would Wart might have gone, Sir.

Falt. I would thou wert a Man's Taylor, that thou might't mend him, and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private Souldier, that is the Leader of fo many thouſands. Let that ſuffice, moſt forcible Feeble.

Feeble. It ſhall ſuffice.

Falt. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is the next?

Shal. Peter Bulcalf of the Green.

Falt. Yea marry, let us fee Bulcalf.

Bul. Here, Sir.

Falt. Truſt me, a likely Fellow. Come prick me Bulcalf, till he roar again.

Bul. Oh, good my Lord Captain.

Falt. What? do'ſt thou roar before th'art prickt.

Bul. Oh, Sir, I am a diſeafed man.

Falt. What diſeafe haſt thou?

Bul. A whorſon cold, Sir; a cough, Sir, which I caught with Ringing in the Kings Affairs, upon his Coronation day, sir.

Falt. Come, thou ſhalt go to the Wars in a Gown: we will have away thy Cold, and I will take ſuch order that thy Friends ſhall ring for thee. Is here all?

Shal. There is two more called than your number, you muſt have but four here, Sir, and fo, I pray you, go in with me to Dinner.

Falt. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry Dinner. I am glad to fee you in good troth, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. O, Sir John, do you remember ſince we lay all night in the Wind-mill in Saint George's Fields?

Falt. No more of that, good Maſter Shallow: No more of that.

Shal. Ha? it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive?

Falt. She lives, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. She never could away with me.

Falt. Never, never: She would always ſay, ſhe could not abide Maſter Shallow.

Shal. I could anger her to the heart: ſhe was then a Bona-Roba. Doth ſhe hold her own well?

Falt. Old, old, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. Nay ſhe muſt be old, ſhe cannot chufe but be old: certain ſhe's old: and had Robin Night-work, by old Night-work, before I came to Clement's Inn.

Sil. That's fifty five yeares ago.

Shal. Hah, Couſin Silence, that thou hadſt ſeen that; that this Knight and I have ſeen: hah, Sir John, fald I well?

Falt. We have heard the Chimes at mid-night, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. That we have, that we have; in faith, Sir John, we

["The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.", "What doth concern your coming ?", "West. Then (my Lord)", "Unto your Grace do I in chief address", "The subtilance of my Speech. If that Rebellion", "Came like a self, in bafe and abject Routs,", "Led on by bloody Youth, guarded with Rage,", "And countenanc'd by Boys, and Beggery :", "I fay if damn'd Commutation so appear,", "In his true, native, and moft proper shape,", "You (Reverend Father, and thefe Noble Lords)", "Had not been here, to drefse the ugly Form", "Of bafe, and bloody Infurrection", "With your fair Honours. You, Lord Arch-Bishop,", "Whofe See is by a Civil Peace maintain'd,", "Whofe Beard, the Silver Hand of Peace hath touch'd,", "Whofe Learning, and good Letters, Peace hath tutor'd,", "Whofe white Inveftments figure Innocence,", "The Dove, and very bleffed Spirit of Peace ;", "Wherefore do you so ill translate your self,", "Out of the fpeech of Peace, that bears fuch Grace,", "Into the harifh and boyftrous Tongue of War ?", "Turning your Books to Graves, your Ink to Blood,", "Your Pens to Launces, and your Tongue divine", "To a lowd Trumpet, and a Point of War ?", "Bish. Wherefore do I this ? fo the queftion stands.", "Briefly to this end: We are all difeas'd,", "And with our furfeiting, and wanton hours,", "Have brought our ſelv'es into a burning Feauer,", "And we muſt bleed for it : of which diſaſe", "Our late King Richard (being inſef'ted) dy'd.", "But (my moſt Noble Lord of Westmerland)", "I take not on me here as a Pyſitian,", "Nor do I, as an Enemy to Peace,", "Troop in the Throngs of Military men :", "But rather ſhew a while like fearful War,", "To dyet rank Minds, ſick of happineſs ;", "And purge th'obſtructions which begin to ſtop", "Our very Veins of Life : hear me more plainly.", "I have in equal Ballance juſtly weigh'd,", "What Wrongs our Arms may do, what Wrongs we ſuffer,", "And find our Grieſs heavier than our Offences.", "We fee which way the ſream of Time doth run,", "And are enforc'd from our moſt quiet there,", "By the rough Torrent of Occafion,", "And have the ſummary of all our Grieſs", "(When time ſhall serve) to ſhew in Articles ;", "Which long e're this, we offer'd to the King,", "And might by no Suit, gain our Audience :", "When we are wrong'd and would unfold our Grieſs,", "We are deny'd accéſs unto his Perfon,", "Even by thofe men, that moſt have done us wrong.", "The dangers of the days but newly gone,", "Whofe memory is written on the Earth", "With yet appearing Blood; and the Examples", "Of every Minutes inſtance (prefent now)", "Hath put us in theſe ill-befeeming Arms :", "Not to break Peace, or any Branch of it,", "But to eſtablifh here a Peace indeed,", "Concurring both in Name and Quality.", "West. When ever yet was your appeal deny'd ?", "Wherein have you been galled by the King ?", "What Peer hath been ſuborn'd, to grate on you,", "That you ſhould feel this lawleſs bloody Book", "Of forg'd Rebellion, with a Seal divine ?", "Bish. My Brother General, the Common-wealth", "I make my Quarrel in particular.", "West. There is no need of any ſuch redrefs ;", "Or if there were, it not belongs to you.", "Mow. Why not to him in part, and to us all,", "That feel the bruiſes of the days before,", "And ſuffer the Condition of theſe Times", "To lay an heauie and unequal Hand upon our Honours ?", "West. O my good Lord Mowbray,", "Conſtrue the Times to their Necellities,", "And you ſhall ſay (indeed) it is the time,", "And not the King that doth you injuries.", "Yet for your part, it not appears to me,", "Either from the King, or in the preſent Time", "That you ſhould have an inch of any ground", "To build a Grief on : were you not reſtor'd", "To all the Duke of Norfolk's Seignories,", "Your Noble and right well remembred Father's ?", "Mow. What thing, in Honour, had my Father loſt,", "That need to be reviv'd, and breath'd in me ?", "The King that lov'd him, as the State ſlood then,", "Was forc'd, perſorce compell'd to banifh him :", "And then, that Henry Bullingbrook and he", "Being mounted, and both rowſed in their Seats,", "Their neighing Courſers daring of the Spur,", "Their armed Staves in charge, their Beavers down,", "Their Eyes of Fire, ſparkling through fightſ of Steel,", "And the loud Trumpet blowing them together :", "Then, then, when there was nothing could have ſtay'd", "My Father from the Breake of Bullingbrook ;", "O, when the King did throw his Warder down,", "(His own Life hung upon the Staff he threw)", "Then threw he down himſelf, and all their Lives,", "That by Indictment, and by dint of Sword,", "Have ſince miſcarried under Bullingbrook.", "West. You ſpeak (Lord Mowbray) now you know not what.", "The Earl of Hereford, was reputed then", "In England the moſt valiant Gentleman.", "Who knows, on whom Fortune would then have ſmil'd ?", "But if your Father had been Viftor there,", "He ne're had born it out of Coventry.", "For all the Country, in a general voice,", "Cry'd hate upon him : and all their Prayers, and Love,", "Were ſet on Hereford, whom they dotted on,", "and bleſſ'd, and grac'd, and did more than the King.", "But this is meer digreflion from my purpofe.", "Here come I from our Princely General,", "To know your Grieſs; to tell you from his Grace,", "That he will give you Audience : and wherein", "It ſhall appear, that your Demands are juſt,", "You ſhall enjoy them, every thing ſet off", "That might to much as think you Enemies.", "Mow. But he hath forc'd us to compel this Offer,", "And it proceeds from Policie, not Love.", "West. Mowbray, you over-ween to take it ſo :", "This Offer comes from Mercy, not from Fear.", "For lo, within a Ken our Army lies.", "Upon mine Honour, all too confident", "To give admittance to a thought of Fear.", "Our Battel is more full of Names than yours,", "Our Men more perfect in the uſe of Arms,", "Our Armour all as ſtrong, our Caufe the beſt ;", {"bbox": [458, 100

78

In light of both our Battels, we may meet
At either end in peace: which Heaven so frame,
Or to the place of difference call the Swords,
Which must needs decide it.

Bibl. My Lord, we will do so.

Mow. There is a thing within my Boſom tells me,
That no Condition of our peace can ſtand.

Haſt. Fear you not that, if we can make our Peace
Upon ſuch large terms, and so absolute,
As our Conditions ſhall conſiſt upon,
Our Peace ſhall ſtand as firm as Rocky Mountains.

Mow. I, but our valuation ſhall be ſuch,
That every flight, and falſe-derived Caufe,
Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton Reaſon,
Shall to the King, taffe of this Action:
That were our Royal Faiths, Martyrs in Love,
We ſhall be winnowed with ſo rough a wind,
That even our Corn ſhall seem as light as Chaff,
And good from bad find no partition.

Bibl. No, no (my Lord) note this: the King is weary
Of dainty and ſuch picking Grievances:
For he hath found, to end one doubt by Death,
Revives two greater in the Heirs of Life.
And therefore will he wipe his Tables clean,
And keep no Tell-tale to his Memory,
That may repeat, and Hiftory his loſs,
To new remembrance. For full well he knows,
He cannot ſo precifely weed this Land,
As his mifdoubts preſent occaffation:
His Foes are ſo enrooted with his Friends,
That plucking to unfix an Enemy,
He doth unſalten ſo, and ſhake a Friend.
So that this Land, like an oſtenſive Wife,
That hath enrag'd him on, to offer ſtrokes,
As he is ſtriking, holds his Infant up,
And hangs reſolv'd Correction in the Arm;
That was uprear'd to execution.

Haſt. Belides, the King hath waſted all his Rods,
On late Offenders, that he now doth lack
The very Inſtruments of Chaſtifeſtment:
So that his Power, like to a Fangleſs Lyon
May offer, but not hold.

Bibl. 'Tis very true:
And therefore be aſſur'd (my good Lord Marſhal)
If we do now make our Atonement well,
Our Peace will (like a broken Limb united)
Grow ſtronger, for the breaking.

Mow. Be it so:

Here is return'd. my Lord of Westmerland.

Enter Westmerland.

We. The Prince is here at hand: Pleaſeth your Lordship
To meet his Grace, juſt diſtance ? between our Armies?

Mow. Your Grace of Tork, in Heavens name then
forward.

Bibl. Before, and greet his Grace, (my Lord) we come.

Enter Prince John.

John. You are well encountried here (my Couſin Mow-
Good day to you gentle Lord Arch-Biſhop,
And ſo to you Lord Haſtings, and to all.

My Lord of Tork, it better ſhew'd with you,
When that your Flock (aſſ embled by the Bell)
Encircled you, to hear with reverence
Your Expofition on the holy Text,
Than now to fee you here an Iron man,
Cheering a rout of Rebels with your Drum,
Turning the Word to Sword, and Life to death.
That man that fits within a Monarch's Heart,
And ripens in the Sun-ſhine of his Favour,
Would he abufe the Countenance of the King,
Alack, what miſchiefs might he ſet abroad,
In ſhadow of ſuch greatneſs? With you, Lord Biſhop,
It is even ſo. Who hath not heard it ſpoken,
How deep you were within the Books of Heaven ?
To us, the Speaker in his Parliament;

To us, the imagine voice of Heaven it ſelf:
The very Opener, and Intelligencer
Between the Grace, the Sanctities of Heaven,
And our dull workings. O, who ſhall believe,
But you miſufe the reverence of your Place,
Employ the Countenance and Grace of Heaven,
As a falſe Favourite doth his Princes Name,
In deeds diſhonourable? You have taken up,
Under the counterfeit Zeal of Heaven,
The Subjects of Heaven's Subſtitute, my Father;
And both againſt the Peace of Heaven, and Him,
Have here up-ſwarmed them.

Bibl. Good my Lord of Lancaſher,
I am not here againſt your Father's Peace:
But (as I told my Lord of Westmerland)
The time (mif-order'd) doth in common ſenſe
Crowd us, and cruſh us, to this monſtrous Form,
To hold our ſafety up. I ſent your Grace
The parcels, and particulars of our Grief,
The which hath been with ſoorn ſhov'd from the Court:
Whereon this Hydra-Son of War is born,
Whofe dangerous Eyes may well be charm'd aſſleep,
With grant of our moſt juſt and right deſire ;
And true Obedience of this Madneſs cur'd,
Stoop tamely to the foot of Majefty.

Mow. If not, we ready are to try our Fortunes
To the laſt man.

Haſt. And though we here fall down,
We have Supplies to ſecond our Attempt:
If they miſcarry, theirs ſhall ſecond them.
And ſo, ſucces' of miſchief ſhall be born,
And Heir from Heir ſhall hold this Quarrel up,
Whiles England ſhall have Generation.

John. You are too ſhallow (Haſtings)

Much too ſhallow,

To found the bottom of the after-times.

Weſt. Pleaſeth your Grace, to anſwer them direſt,
How far-forth you do like their Articles ?

John. I like them all, and do allow them well:
And ſwear here, by the Honour of my Blood,
My Father's purpofes have been miſtook,
And ſome, about him, have too lavifhly
Wreſted his meaning, and Authority.

My Lord, theſe Grieſs ſhall be with ſpeed redreſt:
Upon my Life, they ſhall. If this may płaſe you,
Diſcharge your Powers unto their ſeveral Counties,
As we will ours: and here between the Armies,
Let's drink together friendly, and embrace,
That all their Eyes may bear thofe Tokens home,
Of our reſtored Love, and Amity.

Bibl. I take your Princely word, for theſe redreſſes.

John. I give it you, and will maintain my word;
And thereupon I drink unto your Grace.

Haſt. Go Captain, and deliver to the Army
This News of Peace; let them have pay, and part:
I know it will well płaſe them.

Hie thee, Captain.

Bibl. To you my noble Lord of Westmerland.

Weſt. I pledge your Grace:
And if you knew what pains I have beſtow'd,
To breed this prefent Peace,
You would drink freely: but my love to ye
Shall ſhew it ſelf more openly hereafter.

Bibl. I do not doubt you.

Weſt. I am glad of it.

Health to my Lord, and gentle Couſin Mowbray.

Mow. You with me health in very happy ſealion,
For I am on the ſudden, ſomething ill.

Bibl. Againſt ill Chances men are ever mery,
But Heavineſs ſore-runs the good Event.

Weſt. Therefore be merry (Coz) ſince ſudden ſorrows
Serves to ſay thus: ſome good thing comes to morrow.

Bibl. Believe me, I am paffing light in Spirit.

Mow. So much the worſe, if your own Rule be true.

John.

80

Voyce, the Tongue, which is the Birth, becomes excel-
lent Wit. The second property of your excellent Sher-
ris, is, the warming of the Blood : which before ( cold,
and fetled ) left the Liver white, and pale : which is the
Badge of Pufullanimity, and Cowardife: but the Sherris
warms it, and makes it courfe from the inwards, to the
parts extreme : it illuminateth the Face, which ( as a Bea-
con) gives warning to all the reft of this little Kingdom
( man ) to Arm: and then the Vital Commoners, and in-
land pitty Spirits, muftere me all to their Captain, the
Heart; who great, and puft up with his retinue, doth a-
ny deed of Courage: and this Valour comes of Sherris.
So that skill in the Weapon is nothing, without Sack
(for that fets it a work : ) and Learning, a meer Hoard
of Gold, kept by a Devil, till Sack commences it, and fets
it in act, and ufe. Hereof comes it, that Prince Harry
is valiant : for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of
his Father, he hath, like lean, afteril, and bare Land, ma-
nured, husbanded, and till'd, with excellent endeavour
of drinking good, and good ſtore of fertil Sherries, that
he is become very hot, and valiant. If I had a thousand
fons, the firſt Principle I would teach them, I should be to
forſwear thin Potations, and to addict themſelves to
Sack.

Enter Bardolph.

How now, Bardolph.

Bard. Thy Army is discharged all, and gone.

Falf. Let them go : I'le through Gloeſterſhire, and
there will I viiſit Maſter Robert Shallow, Efquire : I have
him already tempering between my finger and my thumb,
and ſhortly will I feal with him. Come away.

[Exeunt.]

## Scena Secunda.

Enter King, Warwick, Clarence, Gloceſter.

King. Now Lords, if Heaven doth give ſucceſſul end
To this Debate that bleedeth at our doors,
We will our Youth lead on to higher Fields,
And draw no Swords, but what are ſancti'd.
Our Navy is addreſſed, our Power collected,
Our Subſtitutes, in abſence, well inveſted,
And every thing lies level to our wiſh;
Onely we want a little perſonal ſtrength :
And pawſe us, till theſe Rebels, now a foot,
Come underneath the yoak of Government.

War. Both which we doubt not, but your Majefly
Shall ſoon enjoy.

King. Humphrey (my Son of Gloceſter) where is the
Prince, your Brother ?

Glo. I think he's gone to hunt (my Lord) at Windſor.

King. And how accompanied ?

Glo. I do not know (my Lord.)

King. Is not his Brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him ?

Glo. No (my good Lord) he is in prefence here.

Clar. What would my Lord, and Father ?

King. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence,
How chance thou art not with the Prince, thy Brother ?

He loves thee, and thou do'ſt neglect him (Thomas)

Thou haſt a better place in his Affeſtions

Than all thy Brothers : Cherifh it (my Boy)

And Noble Offices thou may'ſt effect
Of Mediation (after I am dead)

Between his Greatneſs, and thy other Brethren.

Therefore omit him not : blunt not his Love,
Nor loſe the good advantage of his Grace,
By feeming cold, or careleſs of his will.

For he is gracious if he be obſerv'd :

He hath a Tear for Pity, and a Hand

Open (as Day) for melting Charity :

Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's Flint,
As humorous as Winter, and as ſudden

As Flaws congealed in the Spring of day.

His temper therefore muſt be well obſerv'd :

Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,

When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth:

But being moody, give him line, and ſcpe,

Till that his falions (like a Whale on ground)

Confound themſelves with working. Learn this,
And thou halt prove a helter to thy Friends,

A Hoop of Gold to bind thy Brothers in :

That the united Veffel of their Blood
(Mangled with Venome of Suggesſion,
As force, perſorce, the Age will pour it in)

Shall never leak, though it do work as ſtrong

As Aconitum, or rafh Gun-powder.

Clar. I ſhall obſerve him with all care, and, love,

King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, (Thomas)?

Clar. He is not there to day : be dines in London.

King. And how accompanied ? Canſt thou tell that?

Clar. With Points, and other his continual Followers.

King. Moſt ſubject is the fatteſt Soyl to Weeds;

And He (the Noble Image of my Youth)

Is over-ſpread with them : therefore my grief

Stretches it ſelf beyond the hour of Death.

The blood weeps from my heart, when I do ſhape
(In forms imaginary) th'unguited Days,

And rotten Times, that you ſhall look upon,

When I am sleeping with my Anceſtors.

For when his head-ſtrong Riot hath no Curb,
When Rage and hot-blood are his Counſellers,
When Means and lavith Manners meet together,
Oh, with what Wings ſhall his Aſfections flye
Towards fronting Peril, and oppos'd decay?

War. My gracious Lord, you look beyond him quite:
The Prince but ſtandies his Companions.

Like a ſtrange Tongue : wherein, to gain the Language,
'Tis needful, that the moſt immodest word

Be look'd upon, and learn'd : which once attain'd,

Your Highneſs knows, comes to no farther uſe,

But to be known, and hated. So, like groſs terms,

The Prince will, in the perſectneſs of time,

Caſt off his Followers : and their memory

Shall as a Pattern, or a Meaſure live,

By which his Grace muſt mete the lives of others,

Turning paſt Evils to advantages.

King. 'Tis ſeldom, when the Bee doth leave her Com
In the dead Carrion.

Enter VVeſtmerland.

VVho's here ? Weſtmerland?

Weſt. Health to my Soveraign, and new happineſs
Added to that, that I am to deliver.

Prince ſohn, your Son, doth kifs your Graces hand:
Mowbray, the Biſhop, Scroop, Haltings, and all,

Are brought to the Correction of your Law,

There is not now a Rebels Sword unſhealth'd,

But Peace puts forth her Olive every where :

The manner how this Action hath been born,

Here (at more leifure) may your Highneſs read,

VVith every courſe, in his particular.

King. O Weſtmerland, thou art a Summer Bird,
VVhich ever, in the baunck of VVinter, ſings
The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt.

Look, here's more News.

Har. From Enemies, Heaven keep your Majefly :

And when they ſtand againſt you, may they fall,

As thate that I am come to tell you of.

The Earl Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolf,

VVith a great Power of English, and of Scotts,

Are by the ſherriff of Tork-lhire overthrown :

The manner, and true order of the fight,

This Packet (pleaſe you) contains at large,

King. And wherefore ſhould theſe good News
Make me ſick?

VVill Fortune never come with both hands full,

Bet

Pistol. Bless thy Lungs, good Knight.

Falst. Come here, Pistol, it and behind me. O, if I had had time to have made new Liversies, I would have be-
flown the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But it is no matter, this poor feweth doth better: this doth infer the zeal I had to see him.

Shal. It doth so.

Falst. It shews my earneſtneſs in affection.

Pist. It doth so.

Falst. My devotion.

Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth.

Falst. As it were to ride day and night,
And not to deliberate, not to remember,
Not to have patience to shift me.

Shal. It is moſt certain.

Falst. But to stand ſtrained with Travel and ſweating
with define to see him, thinking of nothing else, putting
all Affairs in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be
done, but to see him.

Pist. 'Tis ſemper idem; for abſque hoc nihil eſt. 'Tis all
in every part.

Shal. 'Tis ſo indeed.

Pist. My Knight, I will enflame thy Noble Liver, and
make thee rage. Thy Dol, and Helen of thy Noble
thoughts is in bafe Durance, and contagious prifon: Hal'd
thither by moſt Mechanical and durty hands. Rowze up
Revenge from Ebon den, with ſell Ale to the Snake, for
Dol's in. Pistol speaks nought but troth.

Falst. I will deliver her.

Pist. There roar'd the Sea: and Trumpet Clangour
foundes.

The Trumpets found. Enter King Henry the Fifth,
Brothers, Lord Chief-Justice.

Falst. Save thy Grace, King Hall, my Royal Hall.

Pist. The Heavens thee guard and keep, moſt Royal
Imp of Fame.

Falst. 'Save thee, my fweet Boy.

King. My Lord Chief Juſtice, ſpeak to that vain man.

Ch. Juff. Have you your wits ?

Know you what 'tis you ſpeak ?

Falst. My King, my Jove ; I ſpeak to thee, my heart.

King. I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy Prayers:
How ill white Hairs become a Fool, and Jeffer ?

I have long dream'd of ſuch a kind of man,
So ſurfeit Iwell'd, ſo old, and ſo prophane :

But being awake, I do deſpife my dream.

Make leſs thy Body, (hence) and more thy Grace,
Leave gormandizing. Know the Grave doth gape

For thee, thrice wider than for other men.

Reply not to me, with a Fool-born Jeſt,
Prefume not, that I am the thing I was,

For Heaven doth know (so ſhall the world perceive)

That I have turn'd away my former Self,
So will I thofe that kept me Company.

When thou doſt hear I am, as I have bin,
Approach me, and thou ſhalt be as thou was't,
The Tutor and the Feeder of my Riots :

Till then, I banifh thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the reſt of my Milleaders,
Not to come near our Perſon, by ten mile.

For competence of life, I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evil:
And as we hear you do redeem your ſelves,

We will according to your ſtrength and Qualities,
Give you advancement. Be it your charge (my Lord)
To fee perform'd the tenure of our word. Set on.

[Exit King

Falst. Maſter Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.

Shal. I marry, Sir John, which I beſeech you to let me
have home with me.

Falst. That can hardly be, M. Shallow, do not you grime
at this: I ſhall be ſent for in private to him: Look you,
he muſt ſeem thus to the world: fear not your Advan-
ment: I will be the man yet, that ſhall make you Great.

Shal. I cannot well perceive how, unless you thought
give me your Doublet, and ſuff me out with ſtraw, Ibe-
feech you, good Sir John, let me have five hundred of my
thousand.

Falst. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This, that I
heard, was but a colour.

Shal. A colour I fear, that you will dye in, Sir John.

Fal. Fear no Colours, go with me to dinner :

Come Lieutenant Pistol, come Bardolf,
I ſhall be ſent for ſoon at night.

Ch. Juff. Go carry Sir John Falſtaſſ to the Flar,

Take all his company along with him.

Falst. My Lord, My Lord.

Ch. Juff. I cannot now ſpeak, I will hear you ſon.

Take them away.

Pist. Si fortuna me tormento, ſpera me contento.

[Exit. Manet Lancafter, and Chief Juſtice.

John. I like this fair proceeding of the Kings,
He hath intent his wonted Followers

Shall be very well provided for :

But are banifht, till their Converſations

Appear more wife, and modeſt in the world.

Ch. Juff. And ſo they are.

John. The King hath call'd his Parliame,
My Lord.

Ch. Juff. He hath.

John. I will lay odds, that e're this year expire,
We bear our Civil Swords, and Native fire
As far as France. I heard a bird ſo ſing,

Whofe Muſick (to my thinking) pleas'd the King.
Come, will you hence ?

[Exeunt]

EPILOGUE

87

THE
LIFE
OF
KING HENRY V.

Enter Prologue.

O, For a Muse of Fire, that would ascend
The brightest Heaven of Invention,
A Kingdom for a Stage, Princes to adopt,
And Monarchs to behold the swelling Scene.
Then should the Warlike Harry, like himself,
Allume the Port of Mars, and at is heels
(Leafst in, like wounds) should Famine, Sword, and Fire
Crouch for Employment. But pardon, Gentles all,
The flat unraised Spirit, that hath dar'd,
On this unworthy Scaffold, to bring forth
So great an Object. Can this Cock? Pit hold
The wcyft Field of France? Or may we cramm
Within this Wooden O the very Casket
That did affright the Air at Agincourt?
A paradox: since a crooked Figure may
Ateft in little place a Million,
And let us, Cyphers to this great Accompt,

On your imaginary Forces work,
Suppoe within the Girdle of thefe Walls
Are now confi'd two mighty Monarchs,
Whose high, up-rear'd, and abutting Fronts,
The perilous narrow Ocean parts a'under.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
Into a thousand parts, divide one Man,
And make imaginary Puifance.
Think, when we talk of Horses, that you see them
Printing their proud Hoofs 'th' receiving Earth:
For 'this your thoughts that now muft deck our Kings,
Carry them here and there : jumping ore Times;
Turning 'th' accomplishment of many years
Into an Hour-glafs: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this Hiftory;
Who Prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
Gently to heare, kindly to judge our Play.

[Eni.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Bishops of Canterbury, and Ely.

Bish. Cant.

MY Lord, I'le tell you, that self Bill is urg'd,
Which in th' eleventh year of the laft Kings Reign
Was like, and had indeed againft us paft,
But that the Scambling and unquiet time
Did push it out of farther Quetion.

Bish. Ely. But how, my Lord, shall we refift it now?
Bish. Cant. It muft be thought on : if it paſs againſt vs,
We lobe the better part of our Poffeffion :

For all the Temporal Lands, which men devout
By Teſtament have given to the Church,
Would they ſtrip from us; being valu'd thus,
As much as would maintain, to the King's Honour,
Full fifteen Earls, and fifteen hundred Knights,
Six thousand and two hundred good Esquires :
And to relief of Lazars, and weak age
Of indigent faint Souls, paſt corporal toyl,
A hundred Alms-houſes, right well ſuppli'd :
And to the Coffers of the King, beſide,
A thousand pound by th' year. Thus runs the Bill.

Bish. Ely. This would drink deep.

Bish. Cant. ?Twould drink the Cup and all.

Bish. Ely. But what prevention ?

Bish. Cant. The King is full of grace, and fair regard.

Bish. Ely. And a true lover of the Holy Church.

Bish. Cant. The courſes of his youth promis'd it not.

The breath no ſooner left his Fathers Body,
But that his wildneſs mortifi'd in him,
Seem'd to die too: yea at that very moment,
Consideration, like an Angel, came,
And whipt th' offending Adam out of him,
Leaving his Body as a Paradife,
T' envelope and contain Celestial Spirits.
Never was ſuch a ſudden Scholar made :
Never came Reformation in a Flood
With ſuch a heady current, ſcowing Faults :
Nor never Hydra-headed Wilſuineſ
So ſoon did lobe his Seat, and all at once,
As in this King.

Bish. Ely. We are bleſſed in the Change.

Bish. Cant. Hear him but reaſon in Divinity,
And all-admiring, with an inward ſin
You would define the King were made a Prelate.
Hear him debate of Common-wealth Affairs;
You would ſay, it hath been all in all his ſtudy :
Lift his diſcourſe of War, and you ſhall hear
A fearful Battel rendred you in Muſick.

Turn

The Life of King Henry the Fifth.

Enter Exeter.

King. From our Brother of England?
Exe. From him, and thus he greets your Majestye:
He wills you in the Name of God Almighty,
That you defevt your self, and lay apart
The borrowed Glories, that, by gift of Heaven,
By Law of Nature, and of Nations, longs
To him and to his Heires, namely the Crown;
And all wide-retched Honors, that pertain
By Cuffom, and the Ordinance of Times,
Unto the Crown of France : that you may know
'Tis no finifter, nor no awk-ward Claim,
Pick't from the Worms-holes of long-vaniht't days,
Nor from the duft of old Oblivion rak't,
He fends you this moft memorable Line,
In every Branch truly demonftrative;
Willing you over-look this Pedigree:
And when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his moft fam'd, of famous Anceftors,
Edward the third; he bids you then relig
Your Crown and Kingdom indirec'tly held
From him, the Native and true Challenger.

King. Or elfe, what follows?

Exe. Bloody conftraint: for if you hide the Crown
Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
Therefore in fierce Tempeſt he is coming,
In Thunder and in Earth-quake, like a Jove:
That if requiring fail, he will compell.
And bids you, in the Bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the Crown, and to take mercy

On the poor Souls for whom this hungry War
Opens his vafty Jaws: and on your head
Tuming the Widow's Tears, the Orphans Crys,
The dead-mens Bloods, the privy Maidens Groans
For Husbands, Fathers, and betrothed Lovers,
That ſhall be fwalſowed in this Controverſie.
This is his Claim, his threatening, and my Meffage:
Unleſs the Dolphin be in preference here;
To whom exprefly I bring greeting too.

King. For us, we will consider of this further:
To morrow ſhall you bear our full intent
Back to our Brother of England.

Dolph. For the Dolphin,

I ſtand here for him: what to him from England?

Exe. Scorn and defiance, ſleight regard, contempt,
And any thing that may not miſ-become

The mighty Sender, doth he prize you at.
Thus ſays my King: and if your Father's Highneſs
Do not, in grant of all Demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter Mock you ſent his Majefty;
He'l call you to ſo hot an Anſwer of it,
That Caves and Womby Vaultages of France
Shall chide your Trefpafs, and return your Mock
In ſecond Accent of his Ordinance.

Dolph. Say: if my Father tender fair return,
It is againſt my will: for I defire
Nothing but Odds with England,
To that end, as matching to his Youth and Vanity,
I did prefent him with the Paris-Balls.

Ex. He'l make your Paris Lower ſhake for it,
Were it the Mifcreſs Court of mighty Europe:
And be aſſur'd, you'l find a diſp'rence,

As we his Subjects have in wonder found,
Between the promife of his greener days,
And theſe he mafters now: now he weighs Time
Even to the utmoſt Grain; that you ſhall read
In your own Loffes, if he ſtay in France.

King. To morrow ſhall you know our mind at full.

[ Flourish. ]

Exe. Difpatch us with all ſpeed, left that our King
Come here himſelf to queſtion our delay;
For he his ſtooted in this Land already.

King. You ſhall be ſoon diſpatcht, with fair Conditions.
A Night is but ſmall breath, and little paſſe

To anſwer matters of this conſequence.

[ Exeunt. ]

Actus Secundus.

Enter Chorus.

Thus with imagin'd wing our Swif't Scene flyes,
In motion of no leſ's celerity, than that of Thought.

Suppofe, that you have ſeen
The wel-appointed King at Dover Peer,
Embark his Royalty: and his brave Fleet,
With ſilken Streamers, the young Phæbus ſaining;
Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
Upon the Hempen Tackle, ship-boys climbing;
Heart the ſhrill Whifſtle, which doth order give
To ſounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sails,
Born with th'invifible and creep'ing Wind,
Draw the huge Bottom's through the ſurrowed Sea,

Breſting the lofty Surge. O, do but think
You ſtand upon the Rivage, and behold
A Citrie on th'inconſtant Billows dancing.

For ſo appears this Fleet Majeftial,
Holding due courſe to Harſlen. Follow, follow.

Grapple your minds to ſternage of this Navy,
And leave your England as dead Mid-night, ſtill,
Guarded with Grandfires, Babies, and old VVomen,
Either paſt, or not arriv'd to pith and puſuance:

For who is he, whoſe Chin is but enrich
VVith one appearing Hair, that will not follow
The ſeul'd and choice-drawn Cavaliers to France?

VVork, work your Thoughts, and therein fee a Siege:
Behold the Ordinance on their Carriages,

VVith fatal mouths gaping on girded Harſlen.

Suppofe th'Embaſſador from the French comes back,
Tells Harry, That the King doth offer him
Katharine his Daughters; and with her to Dowry
Some petty and unprofitable Dukedoms.

The offer likes not: and the nimble Gunner
VVith Lynſtock now the devilih Cannon touches.

[ Alarum, and Chambers go off. ]

And down goes all before him. Still be kind,

And ech out our performance with your mind. [ Exit. ]

Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Glouceſter.

Alarum. Scaling-Ladders at Harſlen.

King. Once more unto the Breach,
Dear Friends, once more;
Or cloſe the Wall up with our English dead:
In Peace, there's nothing ſo becomes a man,
As modet ſtilneſs and humility:

But when the blaſt of War blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the Tyger:

Stiffen the finews, commune up the blood,

Diſguſe fair Nature with hard-favour'd Rage:

Then lend the Eye a terrible aspect:

Let it pry through the portage of the Head,
Like the Braſs Cannon, let the Brow o'rewhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled Rock
O're-hang and jutty his confounded Bafe,
Swill'd with the wilde and waſtul Ocean.

Now fet the Teeth, and ſtretch the Noſtril wide,
Hold hard the Breath, and bend up every Spirit
To his full height. On, you Nobleft English,
Whofe blood is fet from Fathers of War-poof;

Fathers, that like ſo many Alexanders,

Have in theſe parts from Morn till Even ſought,
And ſhreath'd their Swords for lack of argument,
Dihonour not your Mothers: now atteſt,
That theſe whom you call'd Fathers, did beget you.

Be Copy now to men of groſſer blood,

And teach them how to VVar. And you, good Yeomen,

Whofe

96

Whole Limbs were made in *England*; shew us here
The mettle of your Pafture: let us fwear,
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not:
For there is none of you fo mean and bafe,
That hath not Noble luftre in your Eyes.
I fee you ſtand like Grey-hounds in the flips,
Straying upon the Start. The Game's a-foot :
Follow your Spirit; and upon this Charge,
Cry, God for *Harry*, *England*, and St. George.

*[Alarum, and Chambers go off.]*

### Enter Nim, Bardolph, Piftol, and Boy.

*Bard.* On, on, on, on, on, to the Breach, to the Breach.
*Nim.* ?Pray thee, Corporal, ſlay, the Knocks are too hot: and for mine own part, I have not a Cafe of Lives: the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plain-Song of it.

*Pift.* The plain-Song is moſt juſt: for humors do a bound: Knocks go and come: God's Vaffals drop and dye: and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth win immortal Fame.

*Boy.* Would I were in an Ale-houſe in *London*, I would give all my Name for a Pot of Ale, and safety.

*Pift.* And I: if wifhes would prevail with me, my purpofe ſhould not fail with me; but thither would I hye.

*Boy.* As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth ſing on bough.

### Enter Fluelen.

*Flu.* Up to the breach, you Dogs; avant you Collions.

*Pift.* Be merciful, great Duke, to men of Mould, abate thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage, great Duke. Good Bawcock, bate thy Rage, uſe lenity, ſweet Chuck.

*Nim.* Theſe be good humors: your Honour wins bad humors.

*[Exit.]*

*Boy.* As young as I am, I have obſerv'd theſe three Swaflers. I am Boy to them all three, but all they three, though they would ſerve me, could not be Man to me; for indeed three ſuch Antiques do not amount to a man: for *Bardolph*, he is white-liver'd, and red-fac'd; by the means whereof, a faces it out, but ſights not: for *Piftol*, he hath a killing Tongue, and a quiet Sword; by the means whereof, a breaks Words, and keeps whole Weapons: for *Nim*, he hath heard, that men of few Words are the beſt men, and therefore he ſcorns to ſay his prayers, left a ſhould be thought a Coward: but his few bad Words are matcht with as few good Deeds; for a never broke any man's head but his own, and that was againſt a Poſt, when he was drunk. They would ſteal any thing, and call it Purchafe. *Bardolph* ſtole a Lute-cafe, bore it twelve Leagues, and fold it for three half-Pence. *Nim* and *Bardolph* are ſworn Brothers in filching; and in *Calice* they ſtole a fire-flovel. I knew, by that piece of Service, the men would carry Coals. They would have me as familiar with men's Pockets, as their Gloves or their Hand-kerchers: which makes much againſt my Manhood, if I ſhould take from another's Pocket, to put into mine; for it is plain pocketting up of Wrongs. I muſt leave them, and feek ſome better Service: their Villanie goes againſt my weak ſtomack, and therefore I muſt caſt it up.

*[Exit.]*

### Enter Gower.

*Gower.* Captain *Fluelen*, you muſt come prefentely to the Mines; the Duke of Glouceſter would ſpeak with you.

*Flu.* To the Mines? Tell you the Duke, it is not ſo good to come to the Mines: for look you, the Mines are not according to the Diſciplines of War; the Concaſtivities of it is not ſuſufficient: for look you, th' auſtroversy, you may diſcuffs unto the Duke, look you, is digt himſelf four yards under the Countermines: by *Cheſhu*, I think a will plow up all, if there is not better directions.

*Gower.* The Duke of *Glouceſter*, to whom the Order of the Siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irifh

man, a very valiant Gentleman, I'faith.

*Welch.* It is Captain *Makmorrice*, is it not?

*Gower.* I think it be.

*Welch.* By *Cheſhu* he is an Aſs, as in the World, I will verife as much in his Beard: he ha's no more diſciplins in the true diſciplines of the Wars, look you, of the Roman diſciplines, than is a Puppy-dog.

### Enter Makmorrice, and Captain Jamy.

*Gower.* Here a comes, and the *Scors* Captain, Captain *Jamy*, with him.

*Welch.* Captain *Jamy* is a marvellous valorous Gentleman, that is certain, and of great expeditio and knowledge in th' aunchiant Wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions; by *Cheſhu* he will maintain his Argument as well as any Militarie man in the World, in the Diſciplines of the prifitive Wars of the *Romans*.

*Scot.* I ſay gudday, Captain *Fluelen*.

*Welch.* Godden to your Worſhip, good Captain *Jamy*.

*Gower.* How now, Captain *Makmorrice*, have you quic the Mines? have the Pioners given o're?

*Irifh.* By Chriſh, Law, tith ill done: the Work ill giu over, the Trompet found the Retreat. By my Hand ſwear, and my father's Soul, The Work ill ill done: it tith give over: I would have blowed up the Town, ſo Chriſh ſave me, law, in an hour. O tith ill done, tith ill done: by my Hand tith ill done.

*Welch.* Captaine *Makmorrice*, I beſech you now, will you vouchafe me, look you, a few diſputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the diſciplins of the War, the *Roman* Wars, in the way of Argument, look you, and friendly communication: partly to fatiſe my Opinion, and partly for the ſatisfaction, lou you, of my Mind, as touching the direction of the Military diſcipline, that is the Point.

*Scot.* It fall be vary gud, gud feith, gud Captains both, and I fall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion that fal I marry.

*Irifh.* It is no time to diſcourſe, ſo Chriſh ſave me: The day is hot, and the Weather, and the Wars, and the King, and the Duke: it is not time to diſcourſe, the Town is beſeech'd: and the Trumpet calls us to the Breach, and we talk, and by Chriſh do nothing, ?tis ſhame for us all: ſo God ſame ?tis ſhame to ſtand tſill, it is ſhame by my hand: and there is Throats to be cut, and Works to be done, and there ilſ nothing done, ſo Chriſh ſame law.

*Scot.* By the Mes, ere theſe eyes of mine take themſelves to ſlomber, ayle de gud ſervice, or Ile liige full ground for it; ay, or go to death: and Ile pay't as vorourously as I may, that fal I ſurely do, the brief and the long; marry, I wad full fain heard ſome quodifia 'tween you tway.

*Welch.* Captain *Makmorrice*, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your Nation.

*Irifh.* Of my Nation? What ilſ my Nation? Iha a Villain, and a Baſterd, and a Knave, and a Raſcal. Wha ilſ my Nation? Who talks of my Nation?

*Welch.* Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, Captain *Makmorrice*, peradventure I shall think you do not uſe me with that affability, as in diſcretion you ought to uſe me, look you, being as good a man as your ſelf both in the diſciplines of War, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.

*Irifh.* I do not know you to good a man as my ſelf, Chriſh ſave me, I will cut off your head.

*Gower.* Gentlemen both, you will miſtake each other.

*Scot.* A, that's a foul fault.

*[A Launce].*

*Gower.* The Town ſounds a Parley.

*Welch.* Captain *Makmorrice*, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be ſo bold as to tell you, I know the diſciplines of War, and there is an end.

*[Exit.]*

98

Seem froftie ? O, for the Honour of our Land,
Let us not hang like roping licles
Upon our Houles Thatch, whiles a more froftie People
Sweat drops of gallant Youth in our rich Fields:
Poor we may call them, in their Native Lords.

Dolph. By Faith and Honour,
Our Madams mock at us, and plainly say,
Our Mettle is bred out, and they will give
Their bodies to the Luft of English Youth,
To new-fore France with Baftard Warriors.
Brit. Thy bid us to the English Dancing-Schools,
And teach Lavalta's high, and swift Carranto's,
Saying, our Grace is onely in our Heels.
And that we are moft lofty Run-aways.

King. Where is Montjoy, the Herald ? fpeed him hence,
Let him greet England with our flarp defiance.
Up Princes, and with Spirit of Honour edged,
More flarper than your Swords, hie to the Field:
Charles Delabreth, High Conftable of France,
You Duke of Orleance, Burbon, and of Berry,
Alanfon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundie,
Jaques ChatiUllon, Rambines, Vandemont,
Beaumont, Grand Pree, Rouffie, and Faulconbridge,
Loyi, Lefrale, Bouciquall, and Charaloy,
High Dukes, great Princes, Barons, Lords, and Kings:
For your great Seats, now quit you of great thames :
Bar Harry England, that fweeps through our Land
With Penons painted in the blood of Harflew :
Ruh on his Hoſt, as doth the melted Snow
Upon the Vallies, whoſe low Vaffal Seat
The Alpes doth ſpit, and void his rhewm upon.
Go down upon him, you have Power enough,
And in a Captive Chariot, into Roan
Bring him our Prifoner.

Conſt. This becomes the Great.
Sorry am I his numbers are ſo few,
His Souldiers ſick, and famifht in the March:
For I am ſure, when he ſhall fee our Army,
He'll drop his Heart into the ſink of Fear,
And for Atchievment, offer us his Ranſom.

King. Therefore Lord Conſtable, haſte on Montjoy,
And let him ſay to England, that we ſend,
To know what willing Ranſom he will give.

Prince Dolphin, you ſhall ſtay with us in Roan.

Dolph. Not I, I do beſeech your Majeſty.

King. Be patient, for you ſhall remain with us.

Now forth Lord Conſtable, and Princes all;
And quickly bring us word of England's fall.

Exeunt.

Enter Captains, Welch, and English, Gower, and Fluelen.

Gow. How now Captain Fluelen, come you from the
Bridge?

Flu. I aſſure you, there is very excellent Services com-
mitted at the Bridge.

Gow. Is the Duke of Exeter ſafe?

Flu. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Aya-
menmon, and a man that I love and honour with my ſoul,
and my heart, and my duty, and my live, and my living,
and my uttermoſt power. He is not, God be praſed and
bliſſed, any hurt in the World, but keeps the Bridge
moſt valiantly, which excellent discipline. There is an aun-
cient Lieutenant there at the Bridge, I think in my very
conſciencie he is as valiant a man as Mark Anthony, and he
is a man of no eſtimation in the World, but I did ſee him
do as gallant ſervice.

Gow. What do you call him ?

Flu. He is call d'auncient Piftol.

Gow. I know him not.

Enter Piftol.

Flu. Here is the man.

Pift. Captain, I thee beſeech to do me favours : the
Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.

Flu. I, I praſe God, and I have merited ſome love at

his hands.

Pift. Bardolph, a Souldier firm and found of heart, and
of buxom valour, hath by cruel Fate, and giddy Fortunes
furious fickle Wheel, that Godde's blind, that flands
upon the rolling refleſt Stone.

Flu. By your patience auncient Piftol: Fortune is
painted blind, with a Muffler afore his Eyes, to ſignife
to you, that Fortune is blind ; and ſhe is painted alſo
with a Wheel, to ſignife to you, which is the Moral of
it, that ſhe is turning and inconſtant, and mutability and
variation : and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a ſp-
rical Stone, which rowles, and rowles, and rowles : in
good truth, the Poet makes a moſt excellent deſcription
of it: Fortune is an excellent Moral.

Pift. Fortune is Bardolph's Foe, and frowns on him:
for he hath ſtoſn a Pax, and hanged muſt a be : damned
death : let Gallows gape for Dog, let Man go free, and
let not Hemp his Wind-pipe ſuſfucate : but Exeter haſt
given the doom of death for Pax of little price. There-
fore go ſpeak, the Duke will hear thy voice ; and let
not Bardolph's vital thread be cut with edge of Pen-
Cord, and vile reproach. Speak Captain for his Life, and
I will thee reequite.

Flu. Auncient Piftol, I do partly underſtand your
meaning.

Pift. Why then rejoyce therefore.

Flu. Certainly Auncient, it is not a thing to reſolve a
for it, look you, he were my Brother, I would deſire the
Duke to uſe his good Pleaſure, and put him to Execu-
tion for discipline ought to be uſed.

Pift. Die, and be damn'd, and Figo for thy Friendli.

Flu. It is well.

Pift. The Fig of Spain.

Flu. Very good.

[Exeunt]

Gow. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit Raſcal. I
member him now : a Bawd, a Cut-purfe.

Flu. I'le aſſure you, a utt'red as prave words at the
Pridge, as you ſhall fee in Summers day: but it is very
well: what he ha's ſpoke to me, that is well, I warn
you, when time is ſerve.

Gow. Why 'tis a Gull, a Fool, a Rogue, that now and
then goes to the Wars, to grace himelf at his return
into London, under the form of a Souldier, and in
fellows are perſit in the Great Commanders Names,
and they will learn you by rote where Services were don
at ſuch and ſuch a Sconce, at ſuch a Breach, at ſuch a God
voy: who came off bravely, who was ſhot, who diſ
gra'd, what terms the Enemy ſlood on ; and this the
con perſityn in the phraſe of War, which they call
up with new-tuned Oaths : and what a Beard of the Go-
nerals Cut, and a horrid Sute of the Camp, will do amon-
foming Bottles, and Ale-waſh't wits, is wonderful to
thought on : but you muſt learn to know ſuch flanders
of the Age, or eſſe you may be be marvellously mitbock.

Flu. I tell you what, Captain Gower: I do perceiveth
is not the man that he would gladly make ſnow to the
World he is: if I find a hole in his Coat, I will tell him in
mind: hear you, the King his coming, and I muſt ſpo-
with him from the Pridge.

Drum and Colours. Enter the King and his
poor Sorelders.

Flu. God ples your Majeſty.

King. How now Fluelen, cam'ſt thou from the Bridg?

Flu. I, ſo pleafe your Majeſty : The Duke of Exeter
has very gallantly maintain'd the Pridge ; the French
gone off, look you, and there is gallant and moſt prae-
paſſages: marry, th'athervary was have poffeffion of
the Pridge, but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of
Exeter is Maſter of the Pridge : I can tell your Majeſty
the Duke is a prave man.

King. What men have you loft, Fluelen?

101

Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries be. [Exit.

Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester.

King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,
The greater therefore should our Courage be.
Good morrow, Brother Bedford: God Almighty,
There is some foul of goodneſts in things evil,
Would men obſervingly diſt it out.
For our bad Neighbour makes us early ſtirriers,
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry.
Befides, they are our outward Conſciences,
And Preachers to us all; admoniſhing,
That we should drefs us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
And make a Moral of the Devil himself.

Enter Erpingham.

Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good ſoft Pillow for that good white Head,
Were better than a churliſh turſ of France.

Erping. Not ſo my Liege, this Lodging likeſ me better,
Since I may ſay, now Iye I like a King.
King. 'Tis good for men to love their prefent pain,
Upon Example, ſo the Spirit is eafe:

And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt
The Organs, though defuſt and dead before,
Break up their drowſie Grave, and newly move
With caſted ſlough, and freſh celerity,
Lend me thy Cloak, Sir Thomas: Brothers both,
Commend me to the Princes in our Camp:
Do my Good morrow to them, and anon
Deſire them all to my Pavilion.

Gloſter. We ſhall, my Liege.
Erping. Shall I attend your Grace?
King. No, my good Knight:

Go with my Brothers to my Lords of England;
I and my Boſom muſt debate a while,
And then I would no other company.

Erping. The Lord in Heaven bleſs thee, Noble Harry.

[Execut.]

King. God a mercry old Heart, thou ſpeak'ſt chearfully.

Enter Piftol,

Pift. Che vous la?

King. A Friend.

Pift. Difſuſs unto me, art thou Officer, or art thou
bale, common, and popular?

King. I am Gentleman of a Company.

Pift. Trayſ!Pſt thou the puilſant Pike ?

King. Even ſo : what are you ?

Pift. As good a Gentleman, as the Emperour.

King. Then you are better than the King.

Pift. The King's a Baſcock, and a Heart of Gold, a
Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Pift
moſt valiant : I kiſt his dirty ſhoo, and from heartſtring I
love the lovely Bully. What is thy Name ?

King. Harry le Roy.

P. Le Roy ? a Corniſh Name: art thou of Corniſh Crew?

King. No, I am a **Welchman**.

Pift, Know'ſt thou Fluelen?

King. Yes.

Pift. Tell him, I'le knock his Leek about his Pate upon
S. Davies day.

King. Do not you wear your Dagger in your Cap that
day, left he knock that about yours.

Pift. Art thou his Friend ?

King. And his Kinaſman too.

Pift. The Figo for thee then.

King. I thank you : God be with you.

Pift. My name is Piftol call'd.

[Exit.]

King. It forts well with your fierſeneſs.

[Manet King.]

Enter Fluelen and Gower.

Gower. Captain Fluelen.

Flu. 'So, in the Name of Jefu Chriſt, ſpeak fewer : it
is the greatest admiration in the univerſal World, when
the true and auncient Prerogatifes and Laws of the Wars
is not kept : if you would take the pains but to examine
the Wars of Pompey the Great, you ſhall find, I warrant
you, that there is no tiddle taddle, nor pibble bable
in Pompey's Camp : I warrant you, you ſhall find the
Ceremonies of the Wars, and the Cares of it, and the
Forms of it, and the Sobriety of it, and the Modety of
it, to be otherwife.

Gower. Why the Enemy is loud, your hear him all
Night.

Flu. If the Enemy is an Aſs and a Fool, and a prating Coxcomb ; is it meet, think you, that we ſhould alſo, look you, be an Aſs, and a Fool, and a prating Coxcomb, in your own conſcience now ?

Gow. I will ſpeak lower.

Flu. I pray you, and beſeech you, that you will.

[Exit.]

King. Though it appear a little out of fashion,
There is much Care and Valour in this **Welchman**.

Enter three Souldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams.

Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the Morning,
which breaks yonder ?

Bates. I think it be : but we have no great cauſe to
defire the approach of day.

Williams. We fee yonder the beginning of the day, but
I think we ſhall never fee the end of it. Who goes
there?

King. A Friend.

Will. Under what Captain ſerve you ?

King. Under Sir John Erpingham.

Will. A good old Commander, and a moſt kind Gen-
tleman : I pray you, what thinks he of our eſtate?

King. Even as men wrack't upon a Sand, that look to
be wail't off the next Tide.

Bates. He hath not told his thought to the King?

King. No: nor it is not meet he ſhould : for though
I ſpeak it to you, I think the King is but a man, as I am:
the Violet finells to him, as it doth to me ; the Element
ſhews, to him, as it doth to me ; all his ſenſes have but
humane Conditions : his Ceremonies laid by, in his Na-
kedneſs he appears but a man ; and though his aſſections
are higher mounted than ours, yet when they ſloop, they
ſloop with the like wing : therefore, when he ſees reaſon
of fears, as we do ; his fears, out of doubt, be of the fame
reliſh as ours are : yet in reaſon, no man ſhould poffeſs
him with any appearance of fear ; left he, by ſhewing it,
should dishearten his Army.

Bates. He may ſhow what outward courage he will:
but, I believe as cold a Night as 'tis, he could with him-
ſelf in Thames up to the Neck ; and so I would he were,
and I by him, at all adventures, ſo we were quit here.

King. By my troth, I will ſpeak my conſcience of the
King : I think he would not with himſelf any where, but
where he is.

Bates. Then would he were here alone ; ſo he ſhould he be
fure to be ransomed, and a many poor mens lives ſaved.

King. I dare ſay, you love him not ſo ill, to with him
here alone : howſever you ſpeak this to feel other
mens minds, methinks I could not dye any where ſo
contented, as in the Kings company : his Caufe being juſt,
and his Quarrel honorable.

Will. That's more than we know.

Bates. I, or more than we ſhould ſeek after ; for we
know enough, if we know we are the King's Subjects :
if his Caufe be wrong, our Obedience to the King wipes
the Crime of it out of us.

Kk 3

Williams.

102

*Williams.* But it the Caufe be not good, the King himself hath a heavy Reckoning to make, when all those Legs, and Arms, and Heads chop't off in a Battel, shall Joyn together at the latter day, and cry all, We dyed at such a place, some fwearring, some crying for a Surgeon; some upon their Wives left poor behind them; some upon the Debts they ow, some upon their Children rawly left: I am afeare'd, there are few die well, that die in Battel: for how can they charitably difpofe of any thing, when Blood is their argument ? Now, if thefe men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the King, that led them to it; whom to difobey, were againſt all proportion of ſubjection.

*King.* So, if a Son, that is by his Father ſent about Merchandize, do finfully miſcarry upon the Sea; the imputation of his wickedneſs, by your Rule, ſhould be impoſed upon his Father, that ſent him: or if a Servant, under his Maſter's command, tranſporting a ſum of Money, be affaileſt by Robbers, and die in many irreconcil'd Iniquities; you may call the buſineſs of the Maſter the Author of the Servants damnation: but this is not ſo; The King is not bound to anſwer the particular endings of his ſouldiers, the Father of his Son, nor the Maſter of his Servant; for they purpofe not their Death, when they purpofe their Services. Befides, there is no King, be his Caufe nev'r ſo ſpotleſs, if it come to the arbitrement of Swords, can try it out with all unflotted Souldiers: ſome (peradventure) have on them the guilt of premeditated and contrived Murther; ſome, of beguiling Virgins with the broken Seals of Perjury; ſome, making the Wars their bulwark, that have before gone the gentle Boſom of Peace with Pillage and Robbe. Now if theſe men have defeated the Law, and out-run Native puniſhment; though they can out-ſtrip men, they have no wings tolie from God. War is his Beaſle, War is his Vengeance: ſo that here men are puſniſht, for before breach of the Kings Laws, in now the Kings Quarrel: where they feared the death, they have born life away; and where they would be ſafe, they periſh. Then if they die unprovided, no more is the King guilty of their damnation, than he was before guilty of those Impieties, for the which they are now viſited. Every Subjeſts Duty is the Kings, but every Subjeſts Soul is his own. Therefore ſhould every Souldier in the Wars, as every ſick man in his Bed, waſh every Moth out of his Conſcience: and dying ſo, Death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was bleſſedly loft, wherein ſuch preparation was gained; and in him that eſcapes, it were not fin to think, that making God ſo free an offer, he let him outlive that day, to ſee his Greatneſs, and to teach others how they ſhould prepare.

*Will.* 'Tis certain, every man that dyes ill, the ill is upon his own head, the King is not to anſwer for it.

*Bates.* I do not define he ſhould anſwer for me, and yet I determine to fight luſtily for him.

*King.* I my ſelf heard the King ſay, he would not be ſanſom'd.

*Will.* 1, he ſaid ſo, to make us fight chearfully: but when our throats are cut, he may be ſanſom'd, and we ne're the wifer.

*King.* If I live to ſee it, I will never truſt his word after.

*Will.* You pay him then: that's a perilous ſhot out of an Elder-Gun, that a poor and private diſpleafure can do againſt a Monarch: you may as well go about to turn the Sun to Ice, with fanning in his Face with a Peacocks Feather: You'll never truſt his word after! come, 'is a fooliſh ſaying..

*King.* Your reproof is ſomething too round, I ſhould be angry with you, if the time convenient.

*Will.* Let it be a Quarrel between us, if you live.

*King.* I embrace it.

*Will.* How ſhall I know thee again?

*King.* Give me any Gage of thine, and I will wear it in my Bonnet: Then if ever thou dar'ſt acknowledge it, I wi' make it my Quarrel.

*Will.* Here's my Glove: Give me another of thine, King. There.

*Will.* This will I alſo wear in my Cap: if ever thou come to me, and ſay, after to morrow, This is my Glove, by this Hand I will give thee a box on the ear.

*King.* If ever I live to ſee it, I will challenge it.

*Will.* Thou dar'ſt as well be hang'd.

*King.* Well. I will do it, though I take thee in the King's company.

*Will.* Keep thy word: fare thou well.

*Bates.* Be Friends, you English Fools, be Friends, we have French Quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.

*Exeunt Souldiers.*

*King.* Indeed the French may lay twenty Crowns to one, they will beat us, for they bear them on their houlders: but it is no English Treason to cut French Crowns, and to morrow the King himself will be a Clipper.

*Upon the King, let us, our Lives, our Souls, our debts, our careful Wives,*

*Our Children, and our Sins, lay on the King: He muſt bear all.*

*O hard Condition, twin-born with Greatneſs, Subject to the breath of every Fool, whose ſente: No more can feel, but his own wringing.*

*What infinite heart-eaſe muſt Kings neglect, That private men enjoy?*

*And what have Kings, that Privates have not too, Save Ceremony, ſave general Ceremony? And what art thou, thou Idol Ceremony?*

*What kind of God art thou? that ſuffer'ſt more Of mortal griefs, than do thy Worſippers, What are thy Rents? what are thy Comings in? O Ceremony, ſhew me but thy worth.*

*What ? is thy Soul of Adoration?*

*Art thou ought eſſe but Place, Degree, and Form, Creating aw and fear in other men? Wherein thou art leſs happy, being fear'd, Than they in fearing.*

*What drink? ſt thou oft, in ſtead of Homage ſweet, But poion'd flattery ? O, be ſick, great Greatneſs, And bid thy Ceremony give thee cure.*

*Thinks thou the ſiery Feaver will go out With titles blown from Adulation?*

*Will it give place to flexure and low bending?*

*Can? ſt thou, when thou command? ſt the beggars kine, Command the health of it? No, thou proud Dream, Thou play? ſt ſo ſubtilly with a King's Repoſe, I am a King that find thee: and I know,*

*'Tis not the Balm, the Scepter, and the Ball, The Sword, the Mace, the Crown Imperial, The enter-tiſſed Robe of Gold and Pearl, The farfed Title running before the King,*

*The Throne he fits on: nor the Tide of Pomp, That beats upon the high ſhoar of this World: No, not all theſe, thrice-gorgeous Ceremonies, Not all theſe, laid in bed Majestical,

*Can ſleep ſo foundly, as the wretched Slave: Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, Gets him to reſ, cramm'd with diſtrefſul bread, Never ſees horrid Night, the Child of Hell:*

*But like a Lacquey, from the Rife to Set,*

*Sweats in the eye of Phabus; and all night Sleeps in Elysium: next day after dawn,*

*Doth rife and help Hyperion to his Horſe,*

*And follows ſo the ever-running year*

*With profitable labour to his Grave:*

*And but for Ceremony, ſuch a Wretch,*

*Winding up Days with toyl, and Nights with ſleep,*

Had the fore-hand and vantage of a King.
The Slave, a Member of the Countries peace,
Enjoys it: but in grosł brain little wots,
What watch the King keeps, to maintain the peace;
Whoſe hours the Peafant beſt advantages.

Enter Erpingham.

Erp. My Lord, your Nobles jealous of your abſence,
Seek through your Camp to find you.

King. Good old Knight, collect them all together,
At my Tent: I'le be before thee.

Erp. I ſhall do', my Lord.

[Exit.]

King. O God of Battels, ſeel my Souldiers hearts,
Poffels them not with fear: Take from them now
The ſenſe of reck'ning of the oppoſed numbers:
Pluck their hearts from them. Not to day, O Lord,
O not to day, think not upon the fault,
My Father made, in compelling the Crown.

I Richard's Body have interred new,
And on it have beſtowed more conſtrite tears,
Than from it ſuſed forced drops of Blood.
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
Toward Heaven, to pardon blood:
And I have built two Chauntries,

Where the ſad and ſolemn Priefſs ſing ſtill
For Richard's Soul. More will I do:

Though all that I can do, is nothing worth:
since that my Penitence comes after all,
Imploring Pardon.

Enter Gloucester.

Gloucester. My Liege.

King. My Brother Glouceſter's voice ?

I know thy errand, I will go with thee:

The day, my friend, and all things ſtay for me.[Exeunt]

Enter the Dolphin, Orleance, Ramburs,
and Beaumont.

Orleance. The Sun doth gild our Armour, up, my
Lords.

Dolph. Monte Chevral: My Horſe, Valet Lacquay: Ha

Olb. Oh brave Spirit!

Dolph. Via les ewes & terre.

Olb. Rien puis le air & ſen.

Dolph. Cien, Couſin Orleance.

[Enter Conſtable.]

Now my Lord Conſtable ?

Conſt. Heark how our Steeds for preſent ſervice
neigh.

Dolph. Mount them, and make inciſion in their Hides,
That their hot blood may ſpin in English eyes,
And doubt them with ſuperfluous courage: ha.

Ram. What, will you have them weep our Horſes blood ?
How ſhall we then behold their natural tears ?

Enter Messenger.

Messenger. The English are embattel'd, you French
Peers.

Conſt. To Horſe, you gallant Princes, ſtreight to Horſe.
Do but behold yond poor and ſtarved Band,
And your fair ſhew ſhall fuck away their Souls,
Leaving them but the ſhales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands,
Scarce blood enough in all their fickly Veins,,
Togive each naked Curtle-ax a ſtain,
That our French Gallants ſhall to day draw out,

And heath for lack of ſport. Let us but blow on them.
The vapour of our Valour will o're-turn them.

Tis poffitive 'gainſt all exception, Lords,
That our ſuperfluous Lacquies, and our Peafants,
Who in unnecefſary action ſwarm
About our Squares of Battel, were enow

To purge this Field of ſuch a hilding Foe ;
Though we upon this Mountains Bals by,
Took ſtand for idle ſpeculation :

But that our Honours muſt not. What's to ſay ?
A very little little let us do,

And all is done : then let the Trumpets found
The Tocket Sonuance, and the Note to mount :
For our approach ſhall ſo much dare the Field,
That England ſhall couch down in fear, and yeild.

Enter Graundpree.

Graund. Why do you ſtay ſo long, my Lords of France ?
Yond Iland Carriors, deſperate of their Bones,
Ill-favour'dly become the Morning Field :

Their ragged Curtains poorly are let loose,
And our air ſhakes them palling ſcornfully.

Big Mars ſeems banqu'rout in their begger'd Horſt,
And faintly through a rufy Bever peeps,

The Horſemen ſit like fixed Candleſtiks,

With Torch-ſtaves in their hand : and their poor Jades

Lob down their heads, drooping the hide and hips :

The Gum down roping from their pale-dead eyes,

And in their pale dull Months the Jymold Bitt

Lyes foul with chaw'd graſs, ſtill and motionleſs,

And their Executors, the knavifh Crows,

Flye o're them all, impatient for their hour.

Deſcription cannot ſuit it ſelf in words,

To demonſtrate the Life of ſuch a Battel,

In life ſo liveleſs, as it ſhews it ſelf.

Conſt. They have ſaid their Prayers,

And they ſtay for death.

Dol. Shall we go ſend them Dinners, and fresh Sutes,

And give their failing Horſes Provender,

And after fight with them ?

Conſt. I ſtay, but for my Guard: on

To the Field, I will the Banner from a Trumpet take,

And uſe it for my haſte. Come, come away,

The Sun is high, and we out-wear the day.

[Exeunt]

[Exeunt]

Enter Glouceſter, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with
all his Horſt: Salisbury, and Weſtmerlaud.

Glouceſt. Where is the King ?

Bedf. The King himself is rode to view their Battel.
Weſt. Of fighting men they haue full threecore thou-
ſand.

Exe. There's five to one, beſides they all are freſh.

Salisb. Gods Arm ſtrike with us, 'tis a fearful odds.

God buy' you Princes all ! I'le to my Charge:

If we no more meet, ?till we meet in Heaven ;

Then joyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,

My dear Lord Glouceſter, and my good Lord Exeter,

And my kind Kinfman, Warriors all, adieu.

Bed. Farewel, good Salisbury, and good luck go with

And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it,

For thou art fam'd of the firm truth of Valour,

Exe. Farewel, kind Lord: fight valiantly to day.

Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindneſs,

Princely in both.

Enter the King.

Weſt. O that we now had here

But one ten thousand of thate men in England,
That do no work to day.

King. What's he that wifhes ſo ?

My Couſin Weſtmerland. No, my fair Couſin :

If we are markt to die, we are enow

To do our Countrey loſſs: and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater ſhare of Honour.

Gods will, I pray thee with not one man more.

By ſove, I am not covetous for Gold,

Nor care I, who doth feed upon my coſt :

It yerns me not, if men my Garments wear ;

Such outward things dwell not in my deſires.

But if it be a ſin to covet, Honour,

I am

105

couper vostre gorge.

Pift. Owy, cuppele gorge parmafoy pefant, unless
thou give me Crowns, brave Crowns, or mangled fhalt
thou be by this my Sword.

French. O le vous supplice pour l'amour de Dieu : me
pardonner, le fuis Gentilhome de bonne maifon, gar de ma
vie, & je vous donner ay deux cents efus.

Pift. What are his words ?

Boy. He prays you to fave his life, he is a Gentleman
of a good houfe, and for his Ranfom he will give you two
hundred Crowns.

Pift. Tell him my fury fhall abate, and I the Crowns
will take.

French. Petit Monsieur que dit-ill?

Boy. Encore qu'il eſt contre ſon ſurement, de pardon-
ner aucun prifonner : neant moins pour les efus que vous
luy promitnez, il eſt content de vous donner la liberté de
franſhife.

Fre. Sur mes genoux ie voux donne milles remerciement,
& ie ne eſtime heureux qui ie ne tombe entre les mains
d'un Chevalier, se penſe le plus brave, valant, & tres de-
ſiné Signeur d' Angleterre.

Pift. Expound unto me, Boy.

Boy. He gives you upon his knees a thouſand thanks,
and eſteems himſelf happy, that he hath fal'n into the
hands of one (as he thinks) the moſt brave, valorous, and
thrice-worthy Signeur of England.

Pift. As I fuck blood, I will ſome mercy ſhew. Fol-
low me.

Boy. Suarè vous le grand Capitain !

I did never know fo woful a voice ilſue from ſo empty a
heart: but the Song is true, the empty veſſel makes the
greathſt found. Bardolf and Nim had ten times more
valour than this roaring Devil 's old Play, that every
every may pair his nails with a wooden dagger, and they
are both hang'd, and ſo would this be, if he durſt ſeel
any thing adventurouſly. I muſt stay with the Lackies,
with the luggage of our Camp, the French might have a
good prey of us, if he knew of it, for there is none to
guard it but Boys.
[Exit.

Enter Conftable, Orleance, Burbon, Dolphin,
and Ramburs.

Con. O Diable.

Orl.O Signeur le jour & perdia, toute & perdie.

Dol. Mort Dieu ma vie, all is confounded, all,

Reproach, and everlaſting ſhame

Sits mocking in our Plumes.

[A short Alarum.

O meſchante fortune, do not run away.

Con. Why, all our Ranks are broke.

Dol. O perdurable ſhame, let's ſtab our ſelves :

Be theſe the Wretches that we play'd at Dice for ?

Orl. Is this the King we ſent to, for his Ranſom?

Bur. Shame, and eternal ſhame, nothing but ſhame,
Let us flye in once more back again,

And he that will not follow Burbon now,

Let him go hence, and with his Cap in hand

Like a bafe Pander, hold the Chamber-door,

Whilſt by a bafe Slave, no gentler than my Dog,

His faireſt Daughter is contaminated.

Con. Diforder, that hath ſpoyl'd us, Friend us now,
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

Orl. We are enow yet living in the Field,

To ſmother up the Englifh in our Throngs
If any order might be thought upon.

Bur. The Devil take Order now, I'le to the throng;
Let Life be ſhort, eſſe ſhame will be too long.
[Exit.

Alarum. Enter the King and his Train,
with Prifoners.

King. Well have we done, thrice valiant Countrymen,
But all's not done, yet keep the French the Field.

Exe. The D. of Tork commends him to your Majeſtý.

King. Lives he, good Uncle : thrice within this hour
I faw him down : thrice up again, and fighting,
From Helmet to the Spur all Blood he was.

Exe. In which array (brave Souldier) doth he lye,

Larding the plain: and by his bloody fide,

(Yoak-fellow to his Honour-owing wounds)

The Noble Earl of Suffolk alſo lyes.

Suffolk firſt dyed, and Tork all hagled over

Comes to him, where in gore he lay inſteeped,

And takes him by the Beard, kiffes the galhes

That bloodily did yawn upon his face.

He crys aloud: Tarry my Couſin Suffolk,

My Soul ſhall thine keep company to Heaven :

Tarry (sweet Soul) for mine, then flye a-breaſt :

As in this glorious and well-foughten Field

We kept together in our Chivalry.

Upon theſe words I came, and cheer'd him up,

He ſmil'd me in the Face, caught me his Hand,

And with a feeble gripe, ſays, Dear my Lord,

Commend his ſervice to my Soveraign ;

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded Arm, and kiſt his lips,

And fo eſpous'd to death, with blood he ſeel'd

A Teſtament of Noble-ending-Love :

The pretty and sweet manner of it forſc'd

Thole waters from me, which I would have ſtop'd,

But I had not ſo much of man in me,

And all my Mother came into mine Eyes,

And gave me up to Tears.

King. I blame you not,

For hearing this I muſt perſorce compound

With mixtful Eyes, or they will ilſue too.

But heark, what new alarum is this fame?

The French have re-enforc'd their ſcatter'd men :

Then every Souldier kill his Prifoners,

Give the word through.

[Alarum.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Fluelen, and Gower.

Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, ?Tis expreſſly
againſt the Law of Arms, ?tis as arrant a piece of Knave-
ry, mark you now, as can be offert in your Conſcience
now, is it not?

Gow. ?Tis certain, there's not a Boy left alive, and the
Cowardly Rafcals that ran away from the Battel, ha' don
this Slaughter : beſides, they have burned and carried a
way all that was in the King's Tent, wherefore the King
moſt worthily hath caus'd every Souldier to cut his Pri-
ſoner's throat. O ?tis a gallant King.

Flu. I, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower :
what call you the Town's name, where Alexander the
pig was born ?

Gow. Alexander the Great,

Flue. Why I pray yon, is not pig, great? The pig, or
the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magna-
nimous are all one reckonings, ſave the phraſe is a little
variations.

Gow. I think Alexander the Great was born in
Macedon, his Father was called Philip of Macedon, as I
take it.

Flu. I think it is in Macedon, where Alexander is
porn: I tell you Captain, if you look in the Maps of
the Orld, I warrant you fall find in the comparifons be-
tween Macedon and Monmouth, that the ſituations, look
you, is both alike. There is a River in Macedon, and there
is alſo moreover a River at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at
Monmouth : but it is out of my prains, what is the name
of the other River, but ?tis all one, ?tis alike as my Fingers
is to my Fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you
mark

106

mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come after it indifferent well, for there is Figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his dilemmas, and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his Ales and his angers, ( look you ) kill his best Friend Clytus.

Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he never kill'd any of his Friends.

Flu. It is not well done (mark you now) to take the tales out of my mouth, e're it is made and finhed. I speak but in the Figures, and Comparisons of it : as Alexander kill'd his Friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cups; so also Harry Monmouth being in his right wits, and his good judgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the great belly doublet : he was full of jeff, and gypes, and knaveries, and mocks, I have forgot his name.

Gow. Sir John Falstaff.

Flu. That is he : I'll tell you, there is good men porn at Monmouth.

Gow. Here comes his Majefty.

Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with Prisongers. Flourish.

King. I was not angry since I came to France, Until this instant. Take a Trumpet, Herald, Ride thou unto the Horfemen on yond hill: If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Or voyd the Field : they do offend his fight. If they'll do neither, we will come to them, And make them sker away, as swift as itones Enforced from the old Affyrian flings: Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have, And not a man of them that we shall take, Shall tafe our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Enter Montjoy.

Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege.

Glou. His Eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.

King. How now, what means your Herald ? Know't thou not, That I have fin'd these Bones of mine for Ranfom ? Com't thou again for Ranfom ?

Her. No, great King :

I come to thee for charitable Licensc, That we may wander o're this bloody Field, To book our dead, and then to bury them, To fort our Nobles from our common men.

For many of our Princes ( woe the while )

Lie drown'd and foak'd in mercenary blood :

So do our vulgar drench their peafant limbs In blood of Princes, and with wounded Steeds Fret fet-lock deep in gore, and with wilde rage Yerk out their armed heels at their dead Mafter, Killing them twice. O give us leave great King, To view the Field in safety, and difpofe Of their dead Bodies.

King. I tell thee truly, Herald, I know not if the day be ours or no, For yet a many of your Horfemen peer, And gallop o're the Field.

Her. The day is yours.

King. Praifed be God, and not our ftrength for it :

What is this Caſtle call'd, that flands 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 pleafe your Majefty ) and your great Uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the Chronicles, fought moft prave pattle here in France.

King. They did, Fluellen.

Flu. Your Majefty fays very true : If your Majefties

is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good fervice in a Garden where Leeks did grow, wearing Leeks in their Monmouth Caps, which your Majefty know to this hour is an honorable Badge of the fervice : And I do believe your Majefty takes no ſcorn to wear the Leek upon S. Tavie's day.

King. I wear it for a memorable Honour :

For I am Welch you know, good Countryman.

Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wafh your Majefties Welth blood out of your pody, I can tell you that: God ples, and preferve it, as long as it ples the Grace, and his Majefty too.

King. Thanks, good my Countryman.

Flu. By Jefhu, I am your Majefties Countryman, I care not who know it : I will confef it to all the Orld, I nee not to be affamed of your Majefty, praifed be God, long as your Majefty is an honest man.

King. God keep me fo.

Enter Williams.

Our Heralds go with him,

Bring me juſt notice of the numbers dead

On both our Parts. Call yonder Fellow hither.

Exe. Souldier, you muſt come to the King.

King. Souldier, why wear't thou that Glove in thy Cap?

Will. And't pleafe your Majefty, 'is the Gage of that I should fight withall, if he be alive.

King. An Englishman?

Will. And't pleafe your Majefty, a Rafcal that ſinger'd with me laſt night : who if alive, and ever dare to challenge this Glove, I have ſworn to take him a bothe'ar : or if I can fee my Glove in his Cap, which he ſwore as he was a Souldier he would wear, (if alive) I will ſtrike it out foundly.

King. What think you, Captain Fluellen, is it in this Souldier keep his Oath ?

Flu. He is a Craven and a Villain elfe, and't pleafe your Majefty in my Conſcience.

King. It may be, his Enemy is a Gentleman of great fort, quite from the anſwer of his degree.

Flu. Though he be as good a Jentleman as the Devil is, as Lucifer and Belzebub himſelf, it is neceſſary (as your Grace ) that he keep his Vow and his Oath: If he be perjur'd ( fee you now ) his reputation is as arrant Villain and a Jack fawce, as ever his black ſhoo trod up Gods ground, and his earth, in my Conſcience, law.

King. Then keep thy vow, Sirrah, when thou ment the Fellow.

Will. So, I will my Liege, as I live.

King. Who ſerv't thou under ?

Will. Under Captain Gower, my Liege.

Flu. Gower is a good Captain, and is good knowledge and literaturoed in the Wars.

King. Call him hither to me, Souldier.

Will. I will, my Liege.

King. Here Fluellen, wear this favour for me, and ſtick it in thy Cap : when Alanfon and my ſelf were down together, I pluck't this Glove from his Helm : if any man challenge this, he is a Friend to Alanfon, and an Enemy to our Perfon, if thou encounter any ſuch, apprehend him, and thou do't me love.

Flu. Your Grace does me as great Honours, as can be defir'd in the hearts of his Subjeets : I would fain fee the man, that has but two legs, that ſhall find himſelf agricul at this Glove ; that is all : but I would fain fee it once, and pleafe God of his grace that I might fee.

King. Know't thou Gower ?

Flu. He is my dear friend, and pleafe you.

King. Pray thee go ſEEK him, and bring him to my Tente.

Flu. I will fetch him.

King. My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloster, follow Fluellen cloſely at the heels.

The Glove which I have given him for a Favour

May haply purchase him a box o'th'ear.

It is the Souldiers : I by bargain ſhould

Wear

III

make a Circle : if conjure up love in her in his true
likenefs, he muſt appeare naked , and blind. Can you
blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd over with the
Virgin Crimſon of Modeſty, if ſhe deny the appearance
of a naked blind Boy in her naked feeing ſelf? It were
(my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to conſign to.
King. Yet they do wink and yield as Love is blind
and enforces.

King. They are then exous'd, my Lord, when they ſee
not what they do.

King. Then, good my Lord, teach your Couſin to
conſent to winking.

Burg. I will wink on her to conſent, my Lord, if you
will teach her to know my meaning : for Maids well
Summer'd, and warm kept, are like Flynes at Bartholo-
mewtyde, blind, though they have their Eyes, and then
they will endure handling, which before would not abide
oking on.

King. This Moral ties me over to Time, and a hot
Summer ; and ſo I ſhall catch the Flie, your Couſin, in
the latter end, and the muſt blind too.

Burg. As Love is, my Lord, before it loves.

King. It is ſo : and you may, ſome of you, thank
ove for my blindneſs, who cannot ſee many a fair
French City for one fair French Maid ; for that ſtands in my
way.

French King. Yes my Lord, you ſee them perſp-
ecuſively : the Cities turn'd into a Maid ; for they are
all girdled with Maiden Walls, that War hath entred.

King. Shall Kate be my Wife ?

Fran. So pleafe you.

England. I am content, ſo the Maiden Cities you
talk of, may wait on her: ſo the Maid that ſlood in the
Way for my Wifh, ſhall ſhew me the way to my Will.

France. We have conſented to all terms of reaſon.

Eng. Is't ſo, My Lords of England?

Weſt. The King hath granted every Article :
His Daughter firſt ; and then in ſequele all,
According to their firm proposed natures.

Exet. Onely he hath not yet ſubſcribed this :
Where your Majeſty demands, That the King of France
having occaſion to write for matter of Grant, ſhall
name your Highneſs in this form, and with this addi-
tion, in French : Noſtre třeſcher filz. Henry Roy, d'An-
glaterve Heretere de France ; and thus in Latine ; Pra-
clarifſimus Filius noſter Henricus Rex Angliæ & Hæres
Francia.

Fran. Nor this I have not Brother ſo deny'd,

But your requeſt: ſhall make me let it paſs.

Enſl. I pray you then, in love and dear allyance,
Let that one Article rank with the reſt,
And thereupon give me your Daughter.

Fran. Take her, fair Son, and from her Blood raſe up
Iflie to me, that the contending Kingdoms
Of France and England, whose very ſhoars look pale,
With envy of each others happineſs,

May ceaſe their hatred ; and this dear Conjunction
Plant Neighbourhood and Chriſtian-like accord
In their ſweet Boſoms : that never War advance
His bleeding Sword 'twixt England and fair France.

Lords. Amen.

King. Now welcome, Kate : and bear me wittneſs all,
That here I kifs her, as my Soveraign Queen.

Flourish.

Queen. God, the beſt maker of all Marriages,
Combine your hearts in one, your Realms in one,
As Man and Wife being two, are one in love,
So be there 'twixt your Kingdoms ſuch a Spouſal,
That never may ill Office, or ſell jealouſe,

Which troubles oft the Bed of bleſſed Marriage,
Thruſt in between the Paſſion of theſe Kingdoms,
To make divorce of their incorporate League:
That English may as French, French English men,
Receive each other. God Ipeak this Amen.

All. Amen.

King. Prepare for our Marriage : on which day,
My Lord of Burgundy we'll take your Oath
And all the Peers, for ſurety of our Leagues.
Then ſhall I ſwear to Kate, and you to me,
And may our Oaths well kept and proſp'rous be.

Sonet.

[Exeunt.]

Enter Chorus.

Thus far with rough, and all-unable Pen,
Our bending Author hath perſu'd the Story,
In little room confining Mighty men,
Mangling by ſtarts the full courſe of their glory.
Small time: but in that ſmall, moſt greatly lived
This Star of England. Fortune made his Sword ;
By which, the worlds beſt Garden he atchieved :
And of it left his Son Imperial Lord,
Henry the Sixth, in Infant Bands crown'd King
Of France and England, did this King ſucceed :
Whofe State ſo many had the managing,

That they loft France, and make his England bleed :
Which oft our Stage hath ſhown ; and for their ſake,
In your fair minds let this acceptance take.

LI 2

THE

["The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "113", "Enter another Meffenger.", "Miff. My gracious Lords, to add to your laments\nWherewith you now bedew King Henry's Hearse,\nI must inform you of a dnfal fight", "Betwixt the float Lord Talbot, and the French.", "Win. What ? wherein Talbot overcame, is't fo?", "3. Miff. O no: wherein Lord Talbot was o'rethrown:\nThe circumftance I'le tell you more at large.", "The tenth of August, laft this dreadful Lord,", "Retiring from the Siege of Orleance,", "Having full ſcaring ſix thouſand in his Troop,", "By three and twenty thouſand of the French", "Was round encompaſſed, and ſet upon:\nNo leſure had to enrank his men.", "He wanted Pikes to ſet before his Archers:\nInſtead whereof, ſharp Stakes pluckt out of Hedges", "They pitched in the ground confuſedly,", "To keep the Horſemen off, from breaking in.", "More than three hours the fight continued:", "Where valiant Talbot, above human thought,", "Enact'd wonders with his Sword and Lance.", "Hundreds he ſent to Hell, and none durſt ſtand him:\nHere, there, and very where enrag'd, he ſlew.", "The French exclaim'd, the Devil was in Arms,", "All the whole Army ſlood agaſd on him.", "His Souldiers ſpying his undaunted Spirit,", "A Talbot, a Talbot, cry'd out amain.", "And rufth into the bowels of the Battel.", "Here, had the Conqueſt fully been ſeel'd up,", "If Sir John Falstaffe had not play'd the Coward,", "He being in the Vauwen, plaſt behind", "With purpofe to relieve and follow them,", "Cowardly ſled, not having ſtruck one ſroak.", "Hence grew the general wrack and maſſacre;", "Encloſed were they with their Enemies.", "A bafe Walloon to win the Dolphin's grace,", "Thruſt Talbot with a Spear into the Back,", "Whom all France, with their affembled ſtrength,", "Durſt not preſume to look once in the Face.", "Bd. Is Talbot ſlain then ? I will ſlay my ſelf,", "For living idely here in pomp and cafe,", "Whilſt ſuch a worthy Leader, wanting aid,", "Unto his daſtard ſoe-men is betray'd.", "3. Miff. O no, he lives, but is took Přifoner,", "And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerſord :", "Moft of the reſt ſlaughter'd, or took likewife.", "Bd. His Ranſom there is none but I ſhall pay.", "I'le hale the Dolphin headlong from his Throre,", "His Crown ſhall be the Ranſom of my Friend:\nFour of their Lords I'le change for one of ours.", "Farewell, my Mafterſs, to my Task will I,", "Bonefires in France forthwith I am to make,", "To keep our great Saint Georges Feaſt withall.", "Ten thouſand Souldiers with me I will take,", "Whole bloody deeds ſhall make all Europe quake.", "3. Miff. So you had need, for Orleance is beſieſ'd,", "The English Army is grown weak and faint :", "The Earl of Salisbury craveth ſuppily,", "And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,", "Since they ſo few, watch ſuch a multitude.", "Exe. Remember, Lords, your Oaths to Henry ſworn:\nEither to quell the Dolphin utterly,", "Or, bring him in obedience to your yoak.", "Bd. I do remember it, and here take leave,", "To go over my preparation. [Exit Bedford.", "Gloſt. I'le to the Tower with all the haſte I can,", "To view the Artillery and Munition,", "And then I will proclaim young Henry King.", "Exe. To Ettam will I, where the young King is,", "Being ordain'd his ſpecial Governour,", "And for his ſafety there I'le beſt devife.", "Winch. Each hath his place and Function to attend :", "I am left out; for me nothing remains :", "But long I will not be Jack out of Office,", "The King from Eltam I intend to fend,", "And fit at chiefest ſtern of publick Weal.", "[Exit.]", "Enter Charles, Alanſon, and Reaigneir, marching\nwith Drum and Souldiers.", "Charl. Mars his true moving, even as in the Heavens,\nSo in the Earth, to this day is not known.", "Late did he ſhine upon the English ſide :", "Now we are Viftors, upon us he ſmiles.", "What Towns of any moment, but we have ?", "At pleasure here we lye, near Orleance :", "Otherwhiles, the famiſh't English, like pale Ghoſts,", "Faintly beſiege us one hour in a Month.", "Al. They want their Porredge, and their fat Bull-\nEither they muſt be dieted like Mules. (Beeves", "Reig. Let's raife the Siege : why live we idly here?", "And have their Provender ti'd to their Moaths,", "Or piteous they will look, like drowned Mice.", "Talbot is taken, whom we want to fear :", "Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury,", "And he may well in fretting ſpend his gall,", "Nor Men, nor Mony hath he to make War.", "Char. Sound, found Alarum, we will rufh on them,\nNow for the Honour of the forlorn French:", "Him I forgiſe my death, that killeth me ;", "When he ſees me go back on foot, or flye.", "[Exeunt.]", "Here Alarum, they are beaten back by the\nEnglish, with great loſs.", "Enter Charles, Alanſon, and Reaignier.", "Charl. Who ever ſaw the like ? what men have I ?", "Dogs, Cowards, Daſtards : I would ne're have ſled,", "But that they left me 'midſt my Enemies.", "Reig. Salisbury is a ſ Imperſt Homicide,", "He fighteth as one weary of his life :", "Too other Lords, like Lyons wanting food,", "Do rufh upon us as their hungry prey.", "Alanſ. Royſard, a Countryman of ours, records,", "England all Olivers and Rowlands breed,", "During the time Edward the third did reign :", "More truly now may this be verified ;", "For none but Samon's and Goliath's", "It ſendeth forth to skirmiſh : one to ten ?", "Lean raw-bon'd Raſcals, who would e're ſuppoſe,", "They had ſuch courage and audacity?", "Charl. Let's leave this Town,", "For they are hair-brain'd Slaves,", "And hunger will enforce them to be more eager :", "Of old I know them ; rather with their Teeth", "The VValls they 'll tear down, than forſake the Siege.", "Reig. I think by ſome odd Gimmals or device", "Their Arms are ſet, like Clocks, ſtill to ſtrike on ;", "Elſe ne're could they hold out ſo as they do :", "By my conſent, we'll even let them alone.", "Alan. Be it ſo.", "Enter the Baſtard of Orleance.", "Baſt. Where's the Prince Dolphin ? I have News for him.", "Dolph. Baſtard of Orleance, thrice welcome to us.", {"bbox": [47

The Life of King Henry the Sixth.

114

Exceeding the nine Sibyls of old Rome:
What's, paft, and what's to come, she can defery.
Speak, shall I call her in ? believe my words,
For they are certain, and unfallible.

Dolph. Go, call her in: but firſt, to try her skil,
Reignier ſtand thou as Dolphin in my place;
Question her proudly, let thy Looks be ſtern,
By this means shall we found what skill ſhe hath.

Enter Joan Puzel.

Reig. Fair Maid, is't tſlou, wilt do theſe wondrous ſeats ?

Puzel. Reignier, is't thou, that thinkeſt to beguile me ?

Where is the Dolphin? Come, come from behind,
I know thee well, though never seen before.

Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me:

In private will I talk with thee apart:

Stand back, you Lords, and give us leave a while.

Reig. She takes upon her bravely at firſt daſh.

Puzel. Dolphin, I am by birth a Shepherds Daughter,
My wit untrain'd in any kind of Art:

Heaven and our Lady gracions hath it pleas'd

To ſhine on my contemptible eſtate.

Lo, whil'th I waited on my tender Lambs,
And to Suns parching heat diſplay'd my cheeks,
Gods Mother designed to appear to me,

And in a Vifion full of Majety,

Will'd me to leave my bafe Vocation,

And free my Country from Calamity:
Her aid ſhe promis'd, and affur'd ſucces.

In compleat Glory ſhe reveal'd her ſelf:

And whereas I was black and ſwart before:

With thoſe clear Rays, which ſhe infus'd on me,
That Beauty am I bleft with, which you fee.

Ask me what question thou canſt poſſible,

And I will anſwer unpremeditated:

My Courage try by Combat, if thou dar'st,

And thou ſhalt find that I exceed my Sex.

Reſolve on this, thou ſhalt be fortunate,

If thou receive me for thy Warlike Mate.

Dolph. Thou haſt aftoniſht me with thy high terms:

Onely this proof Ple of thy Valour make,

In Single Combat thou ſhalt buckle with me;

And if thou vanquiſhed, thy words are true,

Otherwife I renounce all confidence.

Puzel. I am prepar'd : here is my keen-edg'd Sword,
Deck't with fine Flower-de-Luces on each ſide,

The which at Tourain in S. Katharine's Church-yard,

Out of a great deal of old Iron, I chofe forth.

Dolph. Then come a God's name, I fear no Woman.

Puzel. And while I live, Ple ne're ſlie no man.

[Here they fight, and Joan de Puzel overcomes.

Dolph. Stay, ſay thy hands, thou art an Amazon,

And fighteſt with the Sword of Debora.

Puzel. Chriſts Mother helps me, eſſe I were too weak.

Dolph. Who e're helps thee, 'tis thou that muſt help
Impatiendly I burn with thy defire,

My heart and hands thou haſt at once ſubſu'd,

Excellent Puzel, if thy name be ſo,

Let me thy ſervant, and not Soveraign be,

'Tis the French Dolphin ſueth to thee thus.

Puzel. I muſt not yield to any rights of Love,

For my Profefſion's ſacred from above:

When I have chafed all thy Foes from hence,

Then will I think upon a Recompence.

Dolph. Mean time look gracious on thy proſtrate
Thrall.

Reig. My Lord, me thinks is very long in talk.

Alan. Doubtles he ſhrives this Woman to her ſmock,
Eſſe ne're could he ſo long protract his ſpeech.

Reign. Shall we diſturb him, ſince he keeps no mean?

Alan. He may mean more than we poor men do know?

These Women are ſhrewd tempters with their Tongues.

Reig. My Lord, where are you ? what devife you on,
Shall we give o're Orleance, or no?

Puzel. Why no, I ſay: diſtruſtful Recreants,

Fight till the laſt gafp: for I'le be your guard.
Dolph. What ſhe ſays, I'le confirm: we'll fight it out.
Puzel. Aſſign'd I am to be the English Scourge.

This night the Siege affur'dly I'le raife:

Expect Saint Martin's Summer, Halecyon days,
Since I have entred thus into theſe Wars.

Glory is like a Circle in the Water:

Which never ceafeth to enlarge it ſelf,
Till by broad spreading, it diſperſe to nought.

With Henry's death, the English Circle ends,
Diſperſed it are the glories included:

Now am I like that proud inſulting Ship,
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.

Dolph. Was Mahomet iſpired with a Dove ?

Thou with an Eagle art iſpired then.

Helen, the Mother of great Conſtantine,

Nor yet S. Philips Daughters were like thee.

Bright Star of Venus, falu down on the Earth,
How may I reverently worſhip thee enough?

Alan. Leave off delays, and let us raife the Siege.

Reig. Woman, do what thou canſt to ſave our Honors,
Drive them from Orleance, and be immortal'd.

Dolph. Prefembly we'll try: come, let's away about it,
No Prophet will I truſt, if ſhe prove falſe. [Exult.

Enter Glouceſter, with his ſerving-men.

Gloſt. I am to ſurvey the Tower this day;
Since Henry's death, I fear there is a Conveyance:
Where be the ſharder Warders, that they wait not here?
Open the Gates, 'tis Gloſter that calls.

1. Warder. Who's there, that knocks ſo imperially?

Gloſt. 1. man. It is the Noble Duke of Gloſter.

2. Warder. Who e're he be, you may not be let in.

1. Man. Villains, anſwer you ſo the Lord Protecſor?

1. Warder. The Lord protecſt him, ſo we anſwer him,
We do not otherwife than we are will'd.

Gloſt. If who willed you ? or who willed ſtands but mine?
There's none Protector of the Realm, but 1:
Break up the Gates, Ple be your warrantize;
Shall I be ſlouted thus by dunghill Grooms?

Gloſter's men rufh at the Tower Gates, and Woodvile
the Lieutenant ſpeaks within.

Wood. What noyſe is this ? what Traytors have we here?

Gloſt. Lieutenant, is it you whoſe voice I hear?

Open the Gates, here's Gloſter that would enter.

Wood. Have patience, Noble Duke, I may not open,
The Cardinal of Wincheſter forbids:

From him I have expeſs commandment,
That thou nor none of thine ſhalt be let in.

Gloſt. Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizeſt him, 'fore me !
Arrogant Wincheſter, that haughty Prelate,
Whom Henry our late Soveraign ne're could brook?
Thou art no Friend to God, or to the King:
Open the Gates, or I'le ſhut thee out ſhortly.

Servingmen. Open the Gates to the Lord Protecſor.
Or we'll burſt them open, if that you come not quickly.

Enter to the Protecſor at the Tower Gates, Wincheſter and his men in Tawny Coats.

Wincheſt. How now ambition Empire what means this?

Gloſt. Piel'd Prieft, doſt thou command me to be
ſhut out?

Winch. I do, thou moſt ſurpuring Prodigitor,
And not Protector of the King or Realm.

Gloſt. Stand back, thou manifeſt Conſpirator,
Thou that contrived it to murther our dead Lord,
Thou that giv't Whores Indulgences to ſin,
Ple canvas thee in thy Broad Cardinals Hat,
If thou proceed in this; thy infolence.

Winch. Nay, ſtand thou back, I will not budge a foot:
This

117

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with sealing
Ladders: Their Drums beating a
Dead March.

Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
By whose approach, the Regions of Artoys,
Wallon, and Picardie, are Friends to us:
This happy night, the Frenchmen are secure,
Having all day carous'd and banquetted,
Embrace we then this opportunity,
As fitting beſt to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by Art, and baleful Sorcery.
Bd. Coward of France, how mch he wrongs his Fame,
Defpairing of his own Arms fortitude,
To joyn with Witches, and the help of Hell.
Bur. Traitors have never other company.

But what's that Puzel, whom they term so pure?
Tal. A Maid, they fay.

Bd. A Maid ? And be so martial ?

Bur. Pray God, ſhe prove not maſtuline e're long:
If underneath the Standard of the French

She carry Armour, as ſhe hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them praſtife and converſe with Spirits.
God is our Fortrefſ, in whose conquering Name

Let us reſolve to ſcale their flinty Bulwarks.

Bd. Aſcend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee.

Tal. Not altogether : Better far I gueſs,

That we do make our entrance ſeveral ways :

That it if chance the one of us do fail,

The other yet may rife againſt their force.

Bd. Agreed ; Ile to yond corner.

Bur. And I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his Grave.
Now Salisbury for thee and for the right

Of Englifh Henry, ſhall this night appear

How much in duty, I am bound to both.

Cem. Arm, Arm, the Enemy doth make affault.

Cry, S. George. A Talbot.

The French leap o're the Walls in their ſpirits. Enter ſeveral
wayes, Baſtard, Alanfon, Reignier, half ready,
and half unready.

Alan. How now my Lords ? what all unready ſo ?

Baſt. Unready ? I and glad we ſcap'd ſo well.

Reg. 'Twastime (I trow) to wake and leave our Beds,
Hearing Alarms at our Chamber doors.

Alan. Of all Exploits ſince firſt I follow'd Arms,

Ne're heard I of a warlike enterprize.

More venturous, or desperate than this.

Baſt. I think this Talbot be a Fiend of Hell.

Reg. If not of Hell, the Heavens ſure favour him.

Alan. Here commeth Charles, I marvel how he ſped.
Enter Charles and Joan.

Baſt. Tut, holy Joan was his defenſive Guard.

Charl. Is this thy cunning, thou decetful Dame ?

Didſt thou at firſt, to flatter us withal,

Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our loſs might be ten times ſo much ?

Joan. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his Friend ?

At all times will you have my power alike ?

Sleeping or waking, muſt I ſtill prevail,
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me ?

Improvident Souldiers, had your watch been good,
This ſudden miſchief never could have falam.

Charl. Duke of Alanſon, this was your default,
That being Captain of the Watch to Nigh,
Did look no better to that weighty Charge.

Alan. Had all our Quarter been as safely kept,

As that, whereof I had the Government,

We had not been thus fameſtully ſurpriz'd.

Baſt. Mine was ſecure.

Reign. And ſo was mine, my Lord.

Charl. And for my ſelf, moſt part of all this Night
Within her Quarter, and mine own Precinct,
I was employ'd in palling to and fro,
About relieving of the Centinels.

Then how, or which way, should they firſt break in?

Joan. Quetſion (my Lord) no further of the caſe,
How, or which way; 'tis ſure they found ſome place,
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made:
And now there reſts no other shifts but this,

To gather our Souldiers, ſcatter'd and diſpers't,

And lay new Plat-forms to endamage them.

[Exeunt.]

Alarum. Enter a Souldier, crying, a Talbot, a Talbot:
they ſle, leaving their Cloaths behind.

Soul. Ile be so bold to take what they have left:
The Cry of Talbot ſerves me for a Sword,

For I have loaden me with many Spoils,

Uſing no other Weapon but his Name.

[Exit.]

Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundie.

Bedf. The day begins to break, and Night is fled,
Whofe pitchy Mantle over-vail'd the Earth.

Here found Retreat, and caſe our hot purſuit.

[Retreat.]

Talb. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury,
And here advance it in the Market-place,
The middle Centre of this curſed Town.
Now have I pay'd my Vow unto his Soul,
For every drop of Blood was drawn from him,
There hath at leaſt five Frenchmen dyed to night.

And that hereafter Ages may behold

What ruine happened in revenge of him,

Within their chiefed Temple Ile erect

A Tomb, wherein his Corps ſhall be interred :

Upon the which, that every one may read,

Shall be engrav'd the ſack of Orleance,

The treacherous manner of his mournful death,

And what a terour he had been to France.

But, Lords, in all our bloody Maſlacre,

I muſe we met not with the Dolphin's Grace,

His new-come Champion, virtuous Joan of Acre,

Nor any of his falſe Confederates.

Bedf. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rou'd on the ſudden from their drowſe Beds,
They did amongst the Troops of armed men,
Leap o're the Walls for refuge in the Field.

Burg. My ſelf, as far as I could well diſcern,
For ſmoak, and dusky Vapours of the night,
Am ſure I ſcar'd the Dolphin and his Trull,
When Arm in Arm they both came swiftly running,

Like to a pair of loving Turtle Doves,

That could not live aſunder day or night.

After that things are ſet in order here,

We'll follow them with all the Power we have.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. All hail, my Lords : which of this Princely train
Call ye the Warlike Talbot, for his Aſts

So much applauded through the Realm of France?

Talb. Here is the Talbot, who would ſpeak with him?

Mef. The virtuous Lady, Counteſs of Avergne,
With modeſty admiring thy Renown,
By me intreats ( great Lord ) thou would't ſouchſaſe
To viſit her poor Caſtle where the ſles,
That the may boat ſhe hath beheld the man,
Whose glory fills the World with loud report.

Burg. Is it even ſo ? Nay, then I fee our Wars
Will turn unto a peaceful Comick ſport,
When Ladies crave to be encountred with

You may not (my Lord) deſpife her gentle ſuit.

Talb. Ne'retrauſt me then : for when a World of men
Could not prevail with all their Oratorie,
Yet hath a Woman's kindneſs over-ru'd :

And therefore tell her, I return great thanks,

And

["The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "120", "Rich. First, lean thine aged Back againft mine Arm,\nAnd in that cafe I'le tell thee my Difeafe.\nThis day in argument upon a Cafe,\nSome words there grew'twixt Somerſet and me :\nAmongſt which terms, he us'd his lavilſ tongue,\nAnd did upbraid me with my Father's death ;\nWhich obloquie ſet bars before my tongue,\nElſe with the like I had requited him.\nTherefore, good Uncle, for my Father's ſake,\nIn honour of a true Plantagener,\nAnd for Alliance ſake, declare the Caufe,\nMy Father, Earl of Cambridge, loft his Head.", "Mort. That Caufe (fair Nephew) that imprifon'd me,\nAnd hath detain'd me all my flow'ring Youth,\nWithin a loathſom Dungeon, there to pine,\nWas curſed Inſtrument of his deſcafe.", "Rich. Discover more at large, what Caufe that was,\nFor I am ignorant, and cannot gueſ.", "Mort. I will, if that my fading breath permit,\nAnd Death approach not, ere my Tale be done.\nHenry the Fourth, Grandfather to this King,\nDepo'd his Nephew Richard, Edward's Son,\nThe first begotten, and the lawful Heir\nOf Edward King, the third of that Descent.\nDuring whose Reign, the Piercies of the North,\nFinding his Uſurpation moſt unjuſt,\nEndeavour'd my advancement to the THRONE.", "The Reaſon mov'd theſe Warlike Lords to this,\nWas, for that ( young Richard thus remov'd,\nLeaving no Heir begotten of his Body )\nI was the next by Birth and Parentage :", "For by my Mother I derived am\nFrom Lyonel Duke of Clarence, the third Son\nTo King Edward the Third ; whereas he,\nFrom John of Gaunt doth bring his Pedigree,\nBeing but the fourth of that Heroick Line.", "But mark : as in this haughty great attempt,\nThey laboured to Plant the rightful Heir,\nI loft my Liberty, and they their Lives,\nLong after this, when Henry the Fifth", "( Succeeding his Father Bullingbrook ) did reign;\nThy Father, Earl of Cambridge, then deriv'd\nFrom famous Edmund Langley, Duke of Tork,\nMarrying my Sifter, that thy Mother was ;", "Again, in pity of my hard diſtrefſ,\nLevied an Army, weening to redeem,\nAnd have inſtall'd me in the Diadem :\nBut as the reſt, ſo fell that Noble Earl,\nAnd was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,", "In whom the Title reſted, were ſuppreſſt.", "Rich. Of which, my Lord, your Honour is the laſt.\nMort. True ; and thou keel't, that I no Ille have\nAnd that my fainting words do warrant death :\nThou art my Heir ; the reſt, I with thee gather :", "But yet be wary in thy ſtudious care.", "Rich. Thy grave admoniſhments prevail with me :\nBut yet, methinks, my Father's execution\nWas nothing leſs, than bloody Tyranny.", "Mort. With filence, Nephew, be thou politick,\nStrong fixed is the Houſe of Lancaſter,\nAnd like a Mountain, not to be remov'd.", "But now thy Uncle is removing hence,\nAs Princes do their Courts, when they are cloy'd\nWith long continuance in a fetled place.", "Rich. O Uncle, would ſome part of my young years\nMight but redeem the paffage of your Age.", "Mort. Thou do't then wrong me, as that floughterer\nWhich giveth many Wounds, when one will kill. ( doth\nMourn not, except thou forrow for my good,\nOnely give order for my Funeral.", "And for ſo farewell, and fair be all thy hopes ;\nAnd prosperous be thy Life in Peace and War.", "[ Dyes.]\nRich. And Peace, no War, befall thy parting Soul.", "In Prifon haſt thou lpent a Pilgrimage,", "And like a Hermite over-paſt thy days.\nWell, I will lock his Counſel in my Breafe,\nAnd what I do imagine, let that reſt.", "Keepers convey him hence, and I my ſelf\nWill fee his Burial better than his Life.", "Here dyes the duskie Torch of Mortimer,\nChoak't with Ambition of the meaner fort.\nAnd for thoſe Wrongs, thoſe bitter Injuries,\nWhich Somerſet hath offer'd to my Houſe,\nI doubt not, but with Honour to redrefs.\nAnd therefore hafte I to the Parliament,\nEither to be reſtored to my Blood,\nOr make my will th'advantage of my good.", "[Ezr.]\n[Eni.]\n[Eni.]\n[Eni.]\n[Eni.]\n[En

The First part of King Henry the Sixth.

122

Manet Exeter.

Exe. I, we may march in England or in France,
Not seeing what is likely to ensue;
This late diffusion grown betwixt the Peers,
Burns under feigned affares of forg'd love,
And will at last break out into a flame,
As feftred members rot but by degree,
Till bones, and flesh, and finews fall away,
So will this bafe and envyous difcord breed.
And now I fear that fatal Prophecy
Which in the time of Henry nam'd the Fifth,
Was in the mouth of every fucking Babe,
That Henry born at Monmouth should win all,
And Henry born at Windsor should lose all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter doth with,
His days may finih e're that hapleſs time.

[Exit.]

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Puzel disgiſ'd, and four Souldiers with
Sacks upon their backs.

Puzel. These are the City Gates, the Gates of Roan,
Through which our policy muſt make a breach.
Take heed, be wary how you place your words,
Talk like the vulgar fort of Market men,
That come to gather Money for their Corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we ſhall,
And that we find the floateful Watch but weak,
Ple by a ſign give notice to our Friends,
That Charles the Dolphin may encounter them.
Souldier. Our Sacks ſhall be a mean to ſack the City,
And we be Lords and Rulers over Roan,
Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Chela ?

Puzel. Peafuns la poure gens de France.

Poor Market-folks that come to ſell their Corn.

Watch. Enter, go in, the Market Bell is rung.
Puzel. Now Roan, I'll ſake thy Bulwarks to the

ground.
[Exeunt.]

Enter Charles, Baſtard, Alanfon.

Charles. Saint Dennis bleſs this happy Stratagem,
And once again we'll ſleep ſecure in Roan.

Bastard. Here entred Puzel, and her Practifants:
Now is the ſe there, how will the ſpecifie ?

Here is the beſt and ſaſeſt paſſage in.

Reign. By thraſting out a Torch from yonder Tower,
Which once diſcern'd ſhews that her meaning is,
No way to that (for weakneſs) which the entred.

Enter Puzel on the top, thraſting out a Torch burning.

Puzel. Behold, this is the happy Wedding Torch,
That joineth Roan unto her Countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbonites.

Bastard. See, Noble Charles, the Beacon of our Friend,
The burning Torch in yonder Turret ſlands.

Charles. Now ſhines it like a Comet of Revenge,
A Prophet to the fall of all our Foes.

Reign. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends,
Enter, and cry, the Dolphin, prefently,
And then do execution on the Watch.

[Alarum.]

An Alarum, Talbot in an Excursion.

Talb. France, thou ſhalt rue this Treafon with thy tears,
If Talbot but survive thy Treachery.

Puzel that Witch, that damned Sorcereſs,
Hath wrought this Hellifh miſchief unawares,
That hardly we eſcap'd the Pride of France.

[Exit.]

An Alarum: Excursions. Bedford brought in ſiekin a Chair.

Enter Talbot and Burgonie without : within Puzel,
Charles, Baſtard, and Reignier on the Walls.

Puz. Good morrow, Gallants, want ye Corn for Bread ?
I think the Duke of Burgonie will ſaſt,
Before he'll buy againe at ſuch a rate.

Twas full of Darnel: do you like the taſte ?

Burg. Scoff on, vile Fiend, and flameleſs Couritza,
I truſt ere long to choak thee with thine own,
And make the curſe the Harvest of that Corn.

Charles. Your Grace may ſtarve ( perhaps ) before
that time.

Bedf. Oh let not words, but deeds, revenge this Treſon.

Puzel. What will you do, good gray Beard ?

Break a Launce, and run a Tilt at Death
Within a Chair.

Talb. Foul Fiend of France, and Hag of all diſpight,
Incompaſs'd with thy luſtful Paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant Age,
And twit with Cowardife a man half dead ?

Damſel Ile have a bout with you again,
Or eſſe let Talbot perſil with this ſhame.

Puzel. Are ye ſo hot, Sir: yet Puzel hold thy peares,
If Talbot do but Thunder, Rain will follow.

They whisper together in counſel.

God ſpeed the Parliament: who ſhall be the Speaker?

Talb. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the Field!

Puzel. Belike your Lordſhip takes us then for Foſs

To try if that our own be ours, or no.

Talb. I ſpeake not to that railing Heateſe,
But unto thee Alanſon, and the reſt.

Will ye, like Souldiers, come and fight it out ?

Alanſ. Seignior, no.

Talb. Seignior, hang : bafe Muleters of France,
Like Pefant foot-Boys to do they keep the Walls,
And dare not take up Arms, like Gentlemen.

Puzel. Away Captains, let's get us from the Walls,
For Talbot means no goodneſs by his Looks.

God b'uy my Lord, we came Sir but to tell you,
That we are here.

[Exeunt from the Wall.]

Talb. And there we will be too, e're it be long.
Or eſſe Reproach be Talbot's grealeſt Fame.
Vow Burgonie, by Honour of thy Houſe,
Prick't on by publick Wrongs ſuſtain'd in France,
Either to get the Town again or dye.

And I, as ſure as English Henry lives,

And as his Father here was Conquerour ;

As ſure as in this late betrayed Town,

Great Cordelion's heart was buryed ;

So ſure I ſwear, to get the Town or die.

Burg. My Vows are equal partners with thy Vows.

Talb. But e're we go, regard this dying Prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford : Come, my Lord,
We will beſtow you in home better place,
Fitter for ſickneſs, and for crazie Age.

Bedf. Lord Talbot, do not ſo diſhonour me:
Here I will fit, before the Walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your weal or we.

Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now perſuade you.

Bedf. Not to be gone from hence, for once I Read

That ſlout Pendragon, in his Litter ſick,
Came to the Field, and vanquified his Foes.

Me thinks I ſhould revive the Souldiers Hearts,
Becauſe I ever found them as my ſelf.

Talb. Undaunted Spirit in a dying Breaf,
Then be we fo: Heavens keep old Bedford ſafe.

And now no more ado, brave Burgonie,

But gather we our Forces out of hand,

And ſet upon our boating Enemy.

[Exeunt.]

An Alarum : Excursions. Enter Sir John
Falstaff, and a Captain.

["The First part of King Henry the Sixth.", "124", "And joyn our Powers,\nAnd feek how we may prejudice the Foe.", "[Exit.]", "## Scena Quarta.", "Enter the King, Glocefter, Winchefter, York, Suffolk, Somerſet, Warwick, Exeter : To them, with his Souldiers, Talbot.", "Tal. My gracious Prince, and honourable Peers,\nHearing of your arrival in this Realm,\nI have a while given Truce unto my Wars,\nTo do my duty to my Soveraign.\nIn figu whereof, this Arm, that hath reclaim'd\nTo your obedience, fifty Fortrefles,\nTwelve Cities, and feven walled Towns of ſtrength,\nBefide five hundred Prifoners of eſteem;\nLets fall his Sword before your Highneſt feet :\nAnd with ſubmiſſive loyalty of heart\nAſcribeth the Glory of his Conqueſt got,\nFirſt to my God, and next unto your Grace.\nKing. Is this the Lord Talbot, Uncle Gloceſter,\nThat hath ſo long been Reſident in France ?", "Gloſt. Yes, if it pleaſe your Majeſty, my Liege.", "King. Welcom, 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 have resolved of your truth,", "Your faithful ſervice, and your toil in War :", "Yet never have you taſted our reward,", "Or been reguerdon'd with ſo much as Thanks,", "Becaufe till now, we never ſaw your face ;", "Therefore ſtand up, and for theſe good deferts,", "We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury,", "And in our Coronation take your place.", "[Exeunt.]", "Manent Vernon and Baffet.", "Vern. Now, Sir, to you that were ſo hot at Sea,\nDifgracing of theſe Colours that I wear,\nIn honour of my Noble Lord of Tork,\nDar't thou maintain the former words thou ſpak'ſt ?", "Baff. Yes, Sir, as well as you dare patronage", "The envious barking of your fawcie Tongue,", "Aginſt the Duke of Somerſet.", "Vern. Sirrah, thy Lord I honour as he is.", "Baff. Why what is he ? as good a man as Tork,", "Vern. Heark ye : not ſo : in witneſs take you that.", "[Strikes him.", "Baff. Villain, thou knoweſt", "The Law of Arms is ſuch,", "That who ſo draws a Sword, ?tis preſent death,", "Or eſſe this Blow ſhould broach thy deareſt Blood.", "But I'le unto his Majeſty, and crave,", "I may have liberty to venge this Wrong,", "When thou ſhall fee, I'le meet thee to thy coſt.", "Vern. Well, miſcreant, Ple be there as ſoon as you,", "And after meet you, ſooner than you would.", "[Exeunt.]", "## Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.", "Enter King, Gloceſter, Winchefter, York, Suffolk, Somerſet, Warwick, Talbot, and Governor Exeter.", "Glo. Lord Bifhop, fet the Crown upon his head.", "Win. God fave King Henry of that name the fixth.", "Glo. Now Governour 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.\nEnter Falſtaff.", "Fal. My gracious Soveraign, as I rode from Callet,\nTo hafe 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's leg;", "Which I have done, becauſe (unworthily)", "Thou waſt inſtalled in that High Degree.", "Pardon, my Princely Henry,", "And the reſt, This Daſtard, at the Battel of Poſtiers,", "When (but in all) I was ſix thouſand ſt rong,", "And that the French were almoſt ten to one,", "Before we met, or that a ſtroke was given,", "Like to a truſt ſquire, did run away.", "In which affaſt we loſt twelve hundred men.", "My ſelf, and divers Gentlemen beſide,", "Were there ſurpriz'd, and taken Prifoners.", "Then judge, (great Lords) if I have done amilſs :", "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 Diſtrefls.", "But alwaſes refoluſe, in moſt extreameſ.", "He then, that is not furniſh'd in this ſort,", "Doth but uſurp the Sacred name of Knight,", "Prophaning 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. Stain to thy Countrymen, thou hear'th thy doct:", "Be packing therefore, thou that waſt a Knight :", "Henceforth we baniſh thee on pain of death.", "And now my Lord Protector view the Letter,", "Sent from our Uncle Duke of Burgundie.", "Glo. 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 Soveraign ?", "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 countries wrack,", "Together with the pitiful complaints", "Of ſuch as your Oppreſsion feeds upon,", "Forſaken your pernicious Faitment,", "And joyn'd with Charles, the righteſt 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. What ? doth my Uncle Burgundy revolt ?", "Glo. He doth, my Lord, and is become my Foe.", "King. Is that the worſt this Letter doth contain?", "Glo. It is the worſt, and all (my Lord) he writes.", "King. Why then, Lord Talbot there ſhall talk with", "And give him chaſtijement for this abufe.", "(Chin)", "How ſay you, (my Lord) are you not content?", "Tal. Content, my Liege ? Yes: but that I am prevented\nI ſhould have begg'd I might have been employ'd.", "King. Then gather ſtrength, and march unto him\nfreight :", "Let him perceive how ill we brook his Treſaon,", "And what offence it is to ſlout his Friends.", "Tal. I go, my Lord, in heart defiring ſtill", {"bbox": [690

The first part of King Henry the Sixth.

Ver. Grant me the Combat, gracious Soveraign.
Baf. And me (my Lord) grant me the Combat too.
Yor. This is my Servant, hear him Noble Prince.
Sum. And this is mine (weet Henry) favour him.
King. 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.
Baf. And I with him, for he hath done me wrong.
King. What is that wrong whereon you both complain?
First let me know, and then Ile anfwer you.
Baf. Croffing the Sea, from England unto France,
This fellow here with carping tongue,
Upraided me about the Rofe I wear,
saying, the fanguine Colour of the Leaves
Did prefent my Maffer's blubling Checks :
When flubborntly he did repugn the truth,
About a certain quellion 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 worthinefs,
I crave the benefice of Law of Arms.
Ver. And that is my Petition (Noble Lord) :
For though he feem with forged quaint conceit
To let a glofs upon his bold intent,
Yet know (my Lord) I was provok'd by him,
And he firft took exceptions at this Law,
Pronouncing that the palenefs of this Flower,
Bewray'd the faintneſs of my Maffer's heart.
Yor. Will not this malice, Somerſet, be left ?
Sum. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne're to be cunningly your mother it.
King. Good Lord ! What madneſs rules in brainſick
men.
When for ſo flight and frivolous a caufe,
Such faſcious emulations ſhall arife ?
Good Coutins both of York and Somerſet,
Quiet your ſelves, and hear peace.
Yor. Let this diffention firſt be tried by fight,
And then your Highneſts ſhall command a Peace.
Sum. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone,
Betwixt our ſelves let us decide it then.
Yor. There is my pledge, accept it Somerſet.
Yor. Nay let it reſt, where it began at firſt.
Baf. Confirm it ſo, mine honourable Lord.
Glo. Confound it ſo, confounded be your ſtrife,
And perilſe ye with your audacious prate;
Prefumptious Vafſals, are you not alham'd
With this immodèd 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 occaffation from their mouths,
To raile a mutiny betwixt your ſelves :
Let me perſwade you take a better courſe.
Exe. It grieves his Highneſts,
Good my Lords, be Friends.

King. Come hither you that would be Combatants,
Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this Quarrel, and the Caufe.
And you, my Lords, Remember where you are,
In France among a fickle wavering Nation :
In they perceive diffention in our looks,
And that within our ſelves we difagree;
How will their grudging ſtomacks be provok'd
to wilful Difobedience, and Rebel ?
Befide, What infamy will there arife,
When For foreign Princes ſhall be certified,
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's Peers, and chief Nobility,
Defroy'd themſelv's, and loft 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 Umpier in this doubtful ſtrife:
I fee no Reafon, if I wear this Rofe,
That any one ſhould therefore be ſulpicious
I more encline to Somerſet than York:
Both are my Kinſmen, and I love them both.
As well they may upbraid me with my Crown,
Becaufe (forfooth) the King of Seors is Crown'd.
But your diſeretions better can perfwade,
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 chearfully together, and digeſt
Your angry choler on your Enemies.
Ourſelf, my Lord Protecſor, and the reſt,
After ſome reſpite will return to Calice ;
From thence to England, where I hope e're long
To be preſented by your Victories,

With Charles, Alanſon, and that traiterous rout.
Exeunt. Maner York, Warwick, Exeter, Vernon.
War. My Lord of York, I promife you the King
Prettily (me thought) did play the Orator.
York. And so he did, but yet I like it not,
In that he wears the Badge of Somerſet.

War. Tuff, that was but his ſancy, blame him not,
I dare prefume (weet Prince) he thought no harm.

York. And if I wifh he did. But let it reſt,
Other affairs muſt now be managed.
Flourish. [Exeunt.
Maner Exeter.

Exe. Well didſt thou Richard to ſuppreſs thy voice:
For the pallions of thy heart burſt out,
I fear we ſhould have ſeen decypher'd there
More rancorous ſpight, more furious Raging Broyls,
Than yet can be imagin'd or ſuppos'd:

But howſore', no ſimple man that ſees
This jarring diſcord of Nobility,
This shouldering of each other in the Court,
This faſtious bandying of their Favourites,
By that it doth prefage ſome ill event.

'Tis much, when Scepters are in Childrens hands :
But more, when Envy breeds unkind Divifion :
Then comes the Ruin, there begins Conſuſion. [Exe.

Enter Talbot with Trumpets and Drum
before Burdeaux.

Talb. Go to the Gates of Burdeaux, Trumpeter,
Summon their General into the Wall. [Sounds.
Enter General aloft.

Engliſh John Talbot (Captains) calls you forth,
Serviſt in Arms to Harry King of England,
And thus he would: Open your City Gates,
Be humbled to us, call my Soveraign yours,
And do him homage as obedi ent Subjects,
And Ple withdraw me, and my bloody Power.
But if you frown upon this proffer'd Peace,
And tempt the fury of my three Attendants,
Lean Famine, quart ering Steel, and climbing Fire,
Who in a moment even with the Earth
Shall lay your flately, and air-braving Towers,
If you forſake the offer of their love.

Cap. Thou ominous and fearful Owl of death,
Our Nations terror, and their bloody ſourge,
The period of thy Tyranny approacheth,
On us thou canſt not enter but by Death :
For I proteſt we are well ſonified,
And ſtrong enough to ilſue out and fight.
If thou retire, the Dolphin well appointed,
Stands with the Snares of War to tangle thee.

M m 3

On

126

On either hand thee, there are Squadrons pitcht,
To wall thee from the liberty of Flight;
Ten thousand French have ta'n the Sacrament,
And no way can't thou turn thee for Redrefs,
But death doth front thee with apparent ffol,
And pale destruption meets thee in the Face:
To rive their dangerous Artillery
Upon no Chriftian foul, but English Talbot:
Lo there thou stand'ft a breathing valiant man
Of an invincible unconquerd fpirit:
This is the lateff Glory of thy praife,
That I thy Enemy dew thee withall;
For e're the Glafs, that now begins to run,
Finifh the proces of his fandy hour,
Thefe Eyes that fee thee now well coloured,
Shall fee thee withereth, bloody, pale, and dead.

[Drum a-far off.]

Heark, heark, the Dolphin's drum, a warning Bell.
Sings heavy Mufick to thy timorous foul,
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.

Talb. He Fables not, I heard the Enemy:

Out fome light Horſemen, and perufe their Wings.

O negligent and heedleſs Difcipline,

How are we park'd and bounded in a pale?

A little Heard of England's Timorous Deer,

'Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French Curs,

If we be English Dear, be then in blood,

Not Rascal-like to fall down with a pinch,

But rather moodie mad and desperate Stags,

Turn on the bloody Hounds, with heads of Steel

And make the Cowards ſtand aloof at bay:

Soll every man his life as dear as mine,

And they ſhall find dear Deer of us, my Friends.

God and S. George, Talbot and England's right,

Prosper our Colours in this dangerous fight.

[Exit.]

Enter a Meſſenger that meets York. Enter York with Trumpet, and many Souldiers.

York. Are not the ſpeedy Scouts return'd again,
That dogg'd the mighty Army of the Dolphin?

Meff. They are return'd, my Lord, and give it out,

That he is march'd to Burdeaux with his Power

To fight with Talbot: as he march'd along,

By your eſpyls were diſcovered

Two mightier Troops, than that the Dolphin led,

Which join'd with him and made their march for

York. A plague upon that Villain Somerſet, (Burdeaux.)

That thus delays my promifed ſupply

Of Horſemen that were levied for the Siege.

Renowned Talbot doth expeſt my aid,

And I am lowted by a Traitor Villain,

And cannot help the Noble Chevalier:

God comfort him in this neceſſity :

If he miſcarry, farewel Wars in France.

Enter another Meſſenger.

2. Meſſ. Thou Princely Leader of our English ſtrength,
Never ſo needful on the earth of France,

Spur to the Refcue of the Noble Talbot,

Who now is girdled with a waſe of Iron,

And hem'd about with grim deſtruction :

To Burdeaux, warlick Duke, to Burdeaux, York.

Elle farewel Talbot, France, and England's Hononr.

Tork. O God, that Somerſet who in proud heart
Doth ſtop my Cornets, were in Talbot's place,
So ſhould we ſave a valiant Gentleman,

By forfeiting a Traitor and a Coward :

Mad ire, and wrathful fury makes me weep,
That thus we dye, while remiſs Traitors creep.

Meff. O ſend ſome ſuccur to the diſtreft Lord.

Tork. He dyes, we Iofe: I break my warlike word:

We mourn, France ſmiles: We Iofe, they dayly get:

All long of this vile Traitor Somerſet.

Meff. Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's Soul,

And on his Son, young John, who two hours ſince;
I met in travel towards his warlike Father :

This ſeven years did not Talbot fee his Son,

And now they meet, where both their lives are done.

York. Alas! What joy ſhall Noble Talbot have,

To bid his young Son welcome to his Grave :

Away, vexation almost ſtops my breath,

That fundred Friends greet in the hour of death.

Lucie farewel, no more my fortune can,

But curſe the caufe, I cannot aid the man.

Maine, Bloys, Poyteiers, and Tourres, are won away,

Long all of Somerſet, and his delay.

Meff. Thus while the Vulture of Sedition,
Feeds in the boſom of ſuch great Commanders,
Sleeping negleſion doth betray to Iofe,
The Conqueſts of our ſeaſce cold Conqueror,
That ever-living man of Memory,

Henry the fifth. Whiles they each others croſ,

Lives, Honours, Lands, and all, hurry to Iofe.

Enter Somerſet with his Army.

Som. It is too late, I cannot ſend them now:

This expedition was by York and Talbot

Too ralḥy plotted. All our general force

Might with a ſally of the very Town

Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot

Hath ſuſſuall his gloſs of former Honor

By this unheedeſt, deſperate, wild Adventure:

York ſet him on to fight, and dye in ſhame,

That Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.

Capt. Here is Sir William Lucie, who with me,
Set from our o're-matcht Forces forth for aid.

Som. How now, Sir William, whither were they then ſent?

Lu. Whither my Lord ? from bought and fold L. Talbot,

Who ring'd about with bold adverſity,

Cryes out for Noble York and Somerſet,

To beat aſſailing death from his weak Regions;

And whiles the Honourable Captain there

Drops bloody ſweat from his war-wearied Limbs,

And in advantage lingring looks for Refcue,

You, his falſe hopes, the truſt of England's Honour,

Keep off aloof with worthleſs emulation :

Let not your private diſcord keep away

The levied Succours that ſhall lend him aid,

While he renowned Noble Gentleman

Yields up his life unto a world of odds.

Orleance the Baſtard, Charles, and Burgundie,

Alanſon, Reſignard, compaſs him about,

And Talbot perſiſeth by your default.

Som. York ſet him on, York ſhould have ſent him aid.

Luc. And York as ſaſt upon your Grace exclaims,

Swearing that you with-hold his levied Hoſt,

Collected for this Expedition.

Som. York Iyes: He might have ſent, and had the Horſ-
I owe him little Duty, and Ieſ Love,

And take foul ſcorn to fawn on him by ſending.

Luc. The fraud of England, not the force of France,

Hath now entrap't the Noble-minded Talbot :

Never to England ſhall he bear his Life,

But dies betray'd to Fortune by your Iſrife.

Som. Come, go, I will diſpatch the Horſemen ſtraight:
Within fix hours, they will be at his aid.

Luc. Too late comes Refcue, if he is ta'ne, or ſlant,
For flie he could not, if he would have ſled :

Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu.

Luc. His fame lives in the World, his ſhame in you.

[Exeunt]

Enter Talbot and his Son.

Tal. O young John Talbot, I did ſend for thee,
To tutor thee in Stratagems of War,
That Talbot's Name might be in thee reviv'd,
When ſapleſs Age, and weak unable limbs,
Should bring thy Father to his drooping Chair.

Bo

["The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "127", "But O malignant and ill-boasting Stars,\nNow art thou come unto a Feast of death,\nA terrible and unavoidable danger :\nTherefore, dear Boy, mount on my swiftest Horfe,\nAnd Ple direct thee how thou fhalt eſcape\nBy fudden flight. Come, dally not, be gone.", "John. Is my name Talbot ? and am I your Son ?", "And shall I flye ? O, if you love my Mother's,", "Dil honour not her honourable Name,\nTo make a Baſtard and a ſlave of me,\nThe World will ſay, he is not Talbot's blood,\nThat basely fled, when Noble Talbot ſlood.", "Talb. Flye, to revenge my death, If I be flain.", "John. He that flyes ſo, will ne're return again.", "Talbot. If we both fly, we both are ſure to dye.", "John. Then let me fly, and, Father, do you flye ;", "Your loſs is great, ſo your regard ſhould be;\nMy worth unknown, no loſs is known in me.", "Upon my death, the French can little boast ;", "In yours they will, in you all hopes are loſt.", "Flight cannot flay the Honour you have won,", "But mine it will, that no exploit have done.", "You ſled for Vantage, every one will ſwear :", "But if I bow, they'l ſay it was for Fear.", "There is no hope that ever I will ſtay,\nIf the firſt hour I ſhrink and ran away.", "Here on my knee I beg Mortality,", "Rather than Life, prefery'd with Infamy.", "Talb. Shall all thy Mothers hopes ſye in one Tomb ?", "John. I, rather then Ple ſhame my Mother's Womb.", "Talb. Upon my bleſſing I command thee go.", "John. To fight I will, but not flye the Foe.", "Talb. Part of thy Father may be fav'd in thee.", "John. No part of him, but will be ſhame in me.", "Talb. Thou never hadt Renown, nor canſt not loſe it.", "John. Yes, your renowned Name : flail flight abufe it ?", "Talb. Thy Father's charge ſhall clear thee from the flain.", "John. You cannot wittners for me, being flain.", "If Death be ſo apparent, then both flye.", "Talb. And leave my Followers here to fight and die ?", "My age was never tainted with ſuch ſhame.", "John. And ſhall my Youth be guffty of ſuch blame ?", "No more can I be ſevered from your ſide,", "Than can your ſelf your ſelf in twain divide :", "Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I ;", "For I will not: if live my Father die.", "Talb. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair Son,", "Born to eclipſe thy life this afternoon :", "Come, ſide by ſide, together live and die,\nAnd Soul with Soul from France to heaven flye.", "[ Exemt. ]", "Alarum : Excursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hemm'd about, and Talbot refues him.", "Tal. S. George, and Victory, fight Souldiers, fight :", "The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word,\nAnd left us to the rage of France his Sword.", "Where is John Talbot ? pawſe, and take thy breath,\nI gave thee Life, and reſcu'd thee from Death.", "John. O twice my Father, twice am I thy Son :", "The Life thou gav't me firſt, was loſt and done,\nTill with thy Warlike Sword, deſpight of Fate,\nTo my determin'd time thou gav't new date.", "Talb. When from the Dolphin's Creft thy Sword ſtruck\nIt warm'd thy Fathers heart with proud defire ( ſire,\nOf bold-fac'd Victory. Then Leaden Age,", "Quicken'd with Youthful Spleen, and Warlike Rage,\nBeat down Alainſon, Orleance, Burgundy,", "And from the pride of Gallia reſcued thee.\nThe ireful Baſtard Orleance, that drew Blood\nFrom thee, my Boy, and had the Maidenhood\nOf thy firſt fight, I ſoon encountered,", "And interchanging blows, I quickly ſhed", "Some of his Baſtard blood, and in diſgrace", "Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, bafe", "And mis-begotten blood, I ſpill of thine,", "Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine,\nWhich thou didſt force from Talbot, my brave Boy.", "Here purpofing the Baſtard to deftroy,\nCame in ſtrong reſcue. Speak, thy Fathers care ?", "Art thou not weary, John ? How doſt thou fare ?", "Wilt thou yet leave the Battel, Boy, and flye,", "Now thou art ſeal'd the Son of Chivalry ?", "Flye, to revenge my death when I am dead,", "The help of one ſtands me in little ſtead.", "Oh, too much folly is it, well I wot,", "To hazard all our lives in one ſmall Boat.", "If I to day dye not with French-mens Rage,", "To morrow I ſhall die with mickle age.", "By me they nothing gain, and if I flye,", "'Tis but the ſhortning of my Life one day.", "In thee thy Mother dies, our Houſehold's Name,", "My Death's Revenge, thy Youth, and England's Fame:", "All thefe, and more, we hazard by thy ſtay ;", "All there are fav'd, if thou wilt flye away.", "John. The Sword of Orleance hath not made me ſmart,\nThe ſe words of yours draw Life-blood from my heart.\nOn that advantage, bought with ſuch a ſhame,\nTo fave a paltry Life, and flay bright Fame,\nBefore young Talbot from old Talbot flye,\nThe Coward Horſe that bears me, fall and die :", "And like me to the pezant Boyes of France,", "To be Shames ſcorn, and ſubject of Mifchance.", "Surely, by all the Glory you have won,", "And if I flye, I am not Talbot's Son.", "Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot,", "If Son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.", "Tal. Then follow thou thy deſp't rate Sire of Creet,", "Thou Icarus, thy life to me is ſweet :", "If thou wilt fight, fight by thy Father's ſide,", "And commendable prov'd let's die in pride.", "[ Exit. ]", "Alarum. Excursions. Enter old Talbot led.", "Talb. Where is my other Life ? mine own is gone.", "O, where's young Talbot ? where is valiant John ?", "Triumphant Death, fineard with Captivity,", "Young Talbot's Valour makes me ſmile at thee.", "When he perceiv'd me ſhrink, and on my Knee,", "His bloody Sword he brandif't over me,", "And like a hungry Lyon did commence", "Rough deeds of Rage, and ſtern impatience :", "But when my angry Guardant ſlood alone,", "Tendring my ruine, and affair'd of none,", "Dizzy-ey'd Fury, and great rage of heart,", "Suddenly made him from my ſide to ſtart", "Into the cluſing Battel of the French :", "And in that Sea of Blood, my Boy did drench", "His over-mounting Spirit; and there dy'd", "My Icarus, my Blöſom in his pride.", "Enter with John Talbot, born.", "Serv. O, my dear Lord, lo where your Son is born.", "Ta. Thou antick Death, which laugh'd up us here to ſcorn,", "Anon from thy infuſting Tyranny,", "Coupled in Bonds of perpetuity,", "Two Talbot's winged through the lither Skie,", "In thy deſpight ſhall ſcape Mortality.", "O thou, whole ſounds become hard favoured death,", "Speak to thy Father, e're thou yield thy breath,", "Brave death by ſpeaking, whether he will or no:", "Imagine him a French man; and thy Foe.", "Poor Boy, he ſmiles, me thinks, as who ſhould ſay,", "Had Death been French, then Death had died to day.", "

["The First part of King Henry the Sixth.", "## Scena Tertia.", "Enter Charles, Burgundy, Alanson, Baftard, Reignier, and Joan.", "Charl. This news (my Lords) may cheer our drooping spirits:", "Tis said, the stout Parifians do revolt,\nAnd return again unto the warlike French.", "Alan. Then march to Paris, Royal Charles of France.", "And keep not back your Power in dalliance.", "Paz. Peace be amongst them if they turn to us,", "Elle ruine combat with their Palaces.", "Enter Scout.", "Scout. Successes unto our valiant General,\nAnd happyneſts to his Accomplices.", "Char. What tidings fend our Scout ? I prethee speak.", "Scout. The English Army that divided was", "Into two Parties, is now conjoyn'd in one,\nAnd means to give you Battel prefentely.", "Charl. Somewhat too sudden, Sirs, the warning is,\nBut we will prefentely provide for them.", "Bur. I truſt the Ghoſt of Talbot is not there:", "Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear.", "Puz. Of all baſe paffions, Fear is moſt accurſt.", "Command the Conqueſt, Charles, it ſhall be thine :", "Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.", "Charl. Then on, my Lords, and France be fortunate.", "[Exeunt]", "Alarum.", "Excursions", "Puz. The Regent conquers, and the French-men flye.\nNow help ye charming Spells and Periapts,\nAnd ye choffe ſpirits that admoniſh me,\nAnd give me ſignes of future accidents.", "You ſpeedy helpers, that are Subſtitutes", "Under the Lordly Monarch of the North,\nAppear, and aid me in this enterprize.", "Enter Friends.", "This ſpeedy and quick appearance argues proof\nOf your accuſtomed diligence to me.", "Now, ye familiar Spirits, that are cull'd", "Out of the powerful Regions under earth.", "Help me this once, that France may get the Field.", "[They walk and speak not.", "Oh hold me not with ſilence over long :", "Where I was wont to feed you with my Blood,\nIe lop a member off, and give it you", "In earneſt of a further benefit :", "So you do confedſend to help me now.", "[They hang their heads.", "No hope to have redrefs ? My Body ſhall", "Pay recompence, if you will grant my ſuit.", "[They shake their heads.", "Cannot my Body, nor blood-facrifice,", "Intreat you to your wonted furtherance ?", "Then take my Soul ; my Body, Soul, and all,", "Before that England give the French the foyl.", "[They depart.", "See, they forſake me. Now the time is come,", "That France muſt vail her lofty plumed Creft,\nAnd let her head fall into England's lap.", "My ancient Incantations are too weak,", "And hell too ſtrong for me to buckle with :", "Now France thy glory droopeth to the duſt.", "[Exit.]", "Excursions. Burgundy and York fight hand to hand. French flye.", "Yark. Damſel of France, I think I have you faſt,\nUnchain your Spirits now with ſpelling Charms,\nAnd try if they can gain your liberty.", "A goodly prize, fit for the Devil's grace.", "See how the ugly Witch doth bend her brows,\nAs if with Circe, ſhe would change my ſhape.", "Puz. Chang'd to a worſer ſhape thou can't not be.\nYark. Oh, Charles the Dolphin is a proper man,", "No ſhape but his can pleafe your dainty eye.", "Puz. A Plaguing miſchief light on Charles and thee,\nAnd may ye both be ſuddenly ſurpris'd", "By bloody hands, in fleeping on your Beds.", "Yark. Fell banning Hag, Inchantrefs, hold thy tongue.", "Puz. I prethee give me leave to curſe a while.", "Yark. Curſe Mifcreant, when thou com'ſt to the ſtake.", "[Exeunt.]", "Alarum. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his hand.", "Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my Prifoner.", "[Gazes on her.", "Oh faireſt Beauty, do not fear, nor flye :", "For I will touch thee but with reverend hands,\nI kifs these fingers for eternal peace,\nAnd lay them gently on thy tender ſide.", "Who art thou, ſay ? that I may honour thee.", "Mar. Margaret my name, and daughter to a King,\nThe King of Naples, who ſo e're thou art.", "Suf. An Earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.", "Be not offendeſd, Natures miraſe,", "Thou art allotted to be ta'ne by me:", "So doth the Swan her downy Cignets ſave,", "Keeping them Prifoners underneath their wings:", "Yet if this ſervile ſusage once offends,", "Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's Friend. [She is going.", "Oh ſlay : I have no power to let her paſs.", "My hand would free her, but my heart ſayes no.", "As plays the Sun upon the glaſſie ſtreams,", "Twinkling another counterfeited beam,", "So ſeems this gorgeous Beauty to mine Eyes :", "Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not ſpeak :", "Ple call for Pen and Ink, and write my mind :", "Fie De la Pole, diſable not thy ſelf :", "Haſt not a Tongue ? Is ſhe not here thy Prifoner ?", "Wilt thou be daunted at a Womans fight ?", "I, Beauties Princely Majefly is ſuch,", "Confounds the Tongue, and makes the Senſes rough.", "Mar. Say, Earl Suffolk, if thy Name be ſo,", "What Ranſom muſt I pay before I paſs ?", "For I perceive I am thy Prifoner.", "Suf. How canſt thou tell, ſhe will deny thy ſuit,", "Before thou make a trial of her Love ?", "[Pay]", "M. Why ſpeak't thou not ? What Ranſom muſt I", "Suf. ſhe's beautiful ; and therefore to be wooed :", "She is a Woman, therefore to be won.", "Mar. Wilt thou accept of Ranſom, yea or no ?", "Suf. Fond man, remember that thou haſt a Wife,", "Then how can Margaret be thy Paramount ?", "Mar. I were beſt to leave him, for he will not hear.", "Suf. There all is marr'd : there lies a cooling card.", "Mar. He talks at random : ſure the man is mad.", "Suf. And yet a diſpenſation may be had.", "Mar. And yet I would that you would anſwer me :", "Suf. I'le win this Lady Margaret. For whom ?", "Why, for my King : Tuſh that's a wooden thing.", "Mar. He talks of wood : It is ſome Carpenter.", "Suf. Yet ſo my fancy may be ſatisſed,", "And peace eſtabliſhed between theſe Realms ;", "But there remains a ſcruple in that too :", "For though her Father be the King of Naples,", "Duke of Anjou and Main, yet he is poor,", "And our Nobility will ſcorn the Match.", "Mar. Hear ye Captain ? are you not at leſure ?", "Suf. It ſhall be ſo, diſdain they ne're ſo much :", "Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.", "Madam, I have a ſecret to reveale.", {"bbox":

["The first part of King Henry the Sixth.", "130", "And will not any way difhonour me,", "Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.", "Mar. Perhaps I shall be refc'u'd by the French,", "And then I need not crave his courteie.", "Suf. Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a caufe.", "Mar. Tulh, women have been captivate e're now.", "Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you fo ?", "Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but *Quid for Quo*.", "Suf. Say, gentle Princes, would you not fuppofe", "Your Bondage happy to be made a Queen ?", "Mar. To be a Queen in Bondage, is more vile,", "Than is a Slave in bafe fervility :", "For Princes should be free.", "Suf. And fo fhall you,", "If happy England's Royal King be free.", "Mar. Why, what concern's his freedom unto me ?", "Suf. Ile undertake to make thee Henry's Queen,", "To put a Golden Scepter in thy hand,", "And fet a precious Crown upon thy head,", "If thou wilt confendence to my—", "Mar. What ?", "Suf. His love.", "Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's Wife.", "Suf. No, gentle Madam, I unworthy am", "To woo fo fair a Dame to be his Wife,", "And have no Portion in the choice my felf.", "How pay you, Madam, are you fo content ?", "Mar. And if my Father pleafe, I am content.", "Suf. Then call our Captains and our Colours forth,", "And, Madam, at your Father's Caſtle Walls,", "We'll crave a Parley to confer with him.", "Sound. Enter Reignier on the Walls.", "See Reignier fee, thy Daughter Prifoner.", "Reig. To whom ?", "Suf. To me.", "Reig. Suffolk, what remedy ?", "I am a Souldier and unapt to weep,", "Or to exclaim on Fortunes fickleneſs.", "Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my Lord,", "Conſent, and for thy Honour give conſent,", "Thy Daughter ſhall be wedded to my King:", "Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto :", "And this her eafe held Imprifonment", "Hath gain'd thy Daughter Princely liberty.", "Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks ?", "Suf. Fair Margaret knows,", "That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or fain.", "Reig. Upon thy Princely Warrant, I deflect,", "To give thee anſwer of thy juſt demand.", "Suf. And here I will expect thy coming.", "Trumpets found. Enter Reignier.", "Reig. Welcome, brave Earl, into our Territories,\nCommand in Anjou what your Honour pleafes.", "Suf. Thanks, Reignier, happy for ſo fewſt a Child,", "Fit to be made Companion with a King :", "What anſwer makes your Grace unto my ſuit ?", "Reig. Since thou doſt daign to woo her little worth,", "To be the Princely Bride of ſuch a Lord :", "Upon condition I may quietly", "Enjoy mine own, the Country Main and Anjou,", "Free from oppreſſion, or the ſtroke of War,", "My Daughter ſhall be Henry's, if he pleafe.", "Suf. That is her Ranſom, I deliver her,", "And the'le two Counties, I will undertake,", "Your Grace ſhall well and quietly enjoy.", "Reig. And I again in Henry's Royal name,", "As Deputy unto that gracious King,", "Give thee her hand for ſign of plighted Faith.", "Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee Kingly thanks,", "Becaufe it is in Traffic of a King.", "And yet methinks I could be well content", "To be mine own Attorney in this caſe.", "Ple over then to England with this News,\nAnd make this Marriage to be ſolemniz'd:\nSo farewel Reignier, fet this Diamond ſafe\nIn Golden Palaces as it becomes.", "Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace", "The Chriſtian Prince King Henry, were he here.", "Mar. Farewell my Lord, good wifhes, prafes, and prayers,\nShall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.", "Suf. Farewell, fewſt Madam : but hark you? Margera,\nNo Princely Commendations, to my King ?", "Mar. Such Commendations as becomes a Maid,", "A Virgin and his Servant, ſay to him.", "Suf. Words fewtely plac'd, and modetly directed,\nBut, Madam, I muſt trouble you again,\nNo loving Token to his Majety ?", "Mar. Yes, my good Lord, a pure unſpotted heart,\nNever yet taint with love, I ſend the King.", "Suf. And this withal.", "Wark. That for thy ſelf, I will not ſo prefume,\nTo ſend ſuch peevish Tokens to a King.", "Suf. Oh wert thou for my ſelf: but Suffolk stay,\nThou mayſt not wander in this Labyrinth,\nThere Minotaurs, and an ſugra ſteons lurk.", "Solicite Henry with her wondrous prafie,", "Bethink thee on her Virtues that ſurmount,", "Made natural Graces that extinguifh Art,", "Repeat their ſemblance often on the Seas,", "That when thou comſt to kneel at Henry's feet,", "Thou mayſt bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exi.", "Enter York, Warwick, Shepherd, Puzel.", "Tor. Bring forth that Sorcereſs condemn'd to burn.", "Shep. Ah, Joan, this kills thy Fathers heart-out-right,\nHave I fought every Country far and near,", "And now it is my chance to find thee out,", "Muft I behold thy timeſeſs cruel death :", "Ah Joan, fewet Daughter, I'le die with thee.", "Puz. Decrepit Mifer, bafe ignoble Wretch,", "I am defcnded of a gentler blood.", "Thou art no Father, nor no Frlend of mine.", "Shep. Out, out: My Lords, and pleafe you, 'tis not I,", "I did beget her all the Parifh knows :", "Her Mother liveth yet, can teſtifie", "She was the firſt fruit of my Batch'lor-ship.", "War. Graceleſs, wilt thou deny thy Parentage ?", "Yor. This argues what her kind of life hath been,", "Wicked and vile, and ſo her death concludes.", "Shep. Fic Joan, that thou wilt be ſo obſtacle :", "God knows thou art a Collop of my Fleſh,", "And for thy ſake have I ſhed many a tear :", "Deny me not, I pray thee, gentle Joan.", "Puz. Pezant avant, you have ſuborn'd this man\nOf purpofe to obſcure my Noble Birth.", "Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a Noble to the Priefl,", "The morn that I was wedded to her Mother.", "Kneel down and take my bleſſing, Good my Girl.", "Wilt thou not ſtoop? Now curſed be the time", "Of thy Nativity : I would the Milk", "Thy Mother gave thee, when thou fuck'd it her breaf,", "Had been a little Ratsbane for thy ſake :", "Or eſſe, when thou didſt keep thy Lambs aſſield,", "I wifh ſome ravenous Wolf had eaten thee.", {"bbox": [686, 1183, 956, 1203], "category": "Text", "text":

But you that are polluted with your lufts,
Stain'd with the guiltlesse blood of Innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousandd Vices:
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it freight a thing impossible
To compais Wonders, but by the help of Devils.
No, milconceived *Joan of Aire* hath been
A Virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaſte, and immaculate in very thought,
Whole Maiden-blood thus rigorously effuſ'd,
Will cry for vengeance at the Gates of Heaven.

*Yor. 1,* 1: away with her to execution.

*War.* And heark ye, Sirs: beaufe he is a Maid,
Spare for no Faggots, let there be enow :
Place Barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That fo her torture may be shorted.

*Puz.* Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?

*Then Joan* (differing thine infirmity,
That warrantech by Law, to be thy privilege.

*I am with Child, ye bloody Homicides :*
Murther not then the Fruit within my Womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.

*Yor.* Now Heaven forfend, the holy Maid with Child?

*War.* The greatest Miracle that e're ye wrought :
Is all your strict preſicures come to this?

*Yor.* She and the Dolphin have been juggling,
I did imagine what would be her refuge.

*War.* Well, go to, we will have no Baſtards live,
Especially ſince Charles muſt Father it.
That was *Alanfon* that enjoy'd my love.

*Yor.* *Alanfon* that notorious Matcheville?

*It dies, and if it had a thousandd lives.*

*Puz.* O give me leave, I have deluded you,
'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the Duke I nam'd,
but *Reignuer* King of Naples that prevail'd.

*Yor.* A married man! that's moſt intolerable.

*Yor.* Why here's a Girl: I think he knows not well
(There were ſo many) whom he may accufe.

*War.* It's a lign he had been liberal and free.

*Yor.* And yet foreſeth he is a Virgin pure.

*Strumpet, thy words condemn thy Brat, and thee,
Ufe no intreaty, for it is in vain.*

*Puz.* Then lead me hence: with whom I leave my curſe.
May never glorious Sun reflex his Beams
Upon the Country where you make abode:

But gloomy ſhade of death
Inviron you, till Mifchief and Defpair

Drive you to break your necks, or hang your ſelves. [Exit.

*Enter Cardinal.*

*Yor.* Break thou in pieces, and confume to alſes,
You foul accuſed minijer of Hell.

*Car.* Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence
With Letters of Commijion from the King.
For know, my Lords, the States of Chriſtendom,
Mov'd with remorſe of these outrageous broyles,
Have earneſtly implor'd a general Peace,
Betwixt our Nation, and th' affiring *French*;
And here at hand, the Dolphin and his Train
Approacheth, to confer about ſome matters.

*Yor.* Is all our travel turn'd to this Effed,
After the ſlaughter of ſo many Peers,
So many Captains, Gentlemen, and Souldiurs,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown,
And fold their Bodies for their Countries Benefit,
Shall we at laſt conclude effeminate Peace?

*Have we not loft moſt part of all the Towns,
By treaſon, falſhood, and by treachery,
Our great Progenitors had conquered ?*

*Oh *Warwick*, *Warwick*, I foreſee with grief*
*the utter loſs of all the Realm of *France*.*

*War.* Be patient, *Yor*, if we conclude a Peace,
It ſhall be with ſuch strict and fevere Covenants,
As little ſhall the *French-men* gain thereby.

*Enter Charles, Alanfon, Baſtards Reignier.*

*Char.* Since, Lords of *England*, it is thus agreed,
That peaceful Truce ſhall be proclaim'd in *France*,
We come to be informed by your ſelves,
What the Conditions of that League muſt be.

*Tor.* Speak, *Winchefter*, for boyling choler chokes
The hollow paſſage of my poifon'd voyce,
By fight of thofe our baleful Enemys.

*Win.* Charles, and the reſt, it is enaſted thus:
That in regard King *Henry* gives confent,
Of meer compaſſion, and of lenity,
To eafe your Country of diſtreſſul *War*,
And ſuffer you to breath in fruitful peace,
You ſhall become true Liegemen to his Crown.
And Charles, upon condition thou wilt ſwear
To pay him *Tribute*, and ſubmit thy ſelf,
Thou ſalt be plac'd as Viceroy under him,
And ſtill enjoy thy Regal Dignity.

*Alan.* Muſt he be then a ſhadow of himſelf?
Adon his Temples with a Coronet,
And yet in Subſtance and Authority,
Retain but privilege of a private man?
This proſer is abſtand, and reaſonſons.

*Char.* 'Tis known already, that I am poſſeſt
With more than half the *Gallian* Territories,
And therein reverenced for their lawful King.
Shall I for lucre of the reit un-vanquifht,
Detraſt so much from that Prerogative,
As to be call'd but Viceroy of the whole?
No, Lord Ambaſſadour, I'le rather keep
That which I have, than coveting for more,
Be caſt from poſſibility of all.

*Tor.* Inſulting Charles, haſt thou by ſecret means
Us'd interceſſion to obtain a League,
And now the matter grows to compremiſe,
Stand'ſt thou aloof upon Comparifon.
Either accept the Title thou uſurp'ſt,
Of benefit proceeding from our King,
And not of any challenge of Defert,
Or we will plague thee with inceſſant Wars.

*Reig.* My Lord, you do not well, in obſtinacy
To cavil in the courſe of this *Contrad*: -
If once it be neglected, ten to one
We ſhall not find the like opportunity.

*Alan.* To ſay the truth, it is your policy,
To ſave your Subjeſts from ſuch maſſacre
And ruthleſſ flaughters as are daily ſeen
By our proceeding in Hoftiſtiness.

And therefore take this *contrad* of a Truce,
Although you break it, when your pleafure ſerves.

*War.* How ſay'ſt thou Charles ?
Shall our Condition ſtand ?

*Char.* It ſhall:

Onely reſer'd, you claim no intereſt
In any of our Towns of Garrifon.

*Tor.* Then ſwear Allegiance to his Majefty,
As thou art Knight, ne'er to diſobey,
Nor be Rebellious to the Crown of *England*,
Thou nor thy Nobles, to the Crown of *England*.
So, now diſmifs your Army when you pleafe:
Hang up your Enſigns, let your Drums be ſtill,
For here we entertain a ſolemn peace.

[Exeunt.]

*Enter Suffolk in conference with the King,
Gloceſter, and Exeter.*

*King.* Your wondrous rare deſcription (noble Earl)
Of beauteous *Margaret* hath aftonifh'd me:
Her Virtues graſ'd with external gifts,
Do breed Loves fettled Paſſions in my Heart,
And like as rigour with tempeſtuous guſts
Provokes the mightieſt *Hulk* againſt the tide,

So

The firſt Part of King Henry the Sixth.

132

So am I driven by breath of her Renown,
Either to suffer Shipwrack, or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her Love.

Suff. Tufh, my good Lord, this ſupernical tale
Is but a preface to her worthy praife:
The chief Perfections of that lovely Dame,
(Had I ſufficient skill to utter them)
Would make a Volume of enticing lines,
Able to ravish any dull conceit.
And which is more, ſhe is not ſo Divine,
So full repleat with choyce of all delights,
But with a humble lowlineſs of mind,
She is content to be at your command:
Command, I mean, of virtuous chaſte intents,
To love, and honour Henry as her Lord.

King. And otherwife, will Henry ne're prefume:
Therefore, my Lord Proteſor, give conſent,
That Margaret may be England's Royal Queen.
Glo. So ſhould I give conſent to ſtatter ſin,
You know (my Lord) your Highneſs is betroth'd
Unto another Lady of eſteem.
How ſhall we then diſpence with that contract,
And not deſace your honour with reproach?
Suf. As doth a Ruler with unlawful Oaths,
Or one that at a Triumph, having vow'd
To try his ſtrength, forſaketh yet the Lifts
By reaſon of his Adverſaries odds.
A poor Earl's Daughter is unequal odds,
And therefore may be broke without offence.

Glo. Why, what (I pray) is Margaret more than that?
Her Father is no better than an Earl,
Although in glorious Titles he excel.
Suf. Yes, my good Lord, her Father is a King,
The King of Naples and Jeruſalem,
And of ſuch great Authority in France,
As his alliance will confirm our peace,
And keep the French-men in Allegiance.

Glo. And to the Earl of Arminack may do,
Because he is near Kinſman unto Charles.

Exer. Befide, his wealth doth warrant liberal Dower,
Where Reignier ſooner will receive than give.

Suf. A Dower, my Lords? diſgrace not to your King,
That he ſhould be ſo abjeſt, bafe, and poor,
To choſe for wealth, and not for perfect Love.
Henry is able to enrich his Queen,
And not to keeſ a Queen to make him rich:
So worthleſs Pezants bargain for their Wives,
As Market-men for Oxen, Sheep, or Horſe.
But Marriage is a matter of more worth,
Than to be dealt in by Atturney-ſhip:
Not whom we will, but whom his Grace affects,
Muſt be companion of his Nuptial Bed.

And therefore, Lords, ſince he affects her moſt,
Moſt of all theſe Reaſons bindeth us,
In our Opinions the ſhould be preferr'd,
For what is Wedlocke ſorced, but a Hell,
An age of diſcord and continual ſtrife?
Whereas the contrary bringeth forth blifs,
And is a pattern of Celestial peace,
Whom ſhould we match with Hemy, being a King,
But Margaret, that is Daughter to a King?
Her peerleſs Feature, joyned with her birth,
Approves her fit for none, but for a King.
Her valiant Courage, and undaunted Spirit,
(More than in Women commonly is ſeen)
Will anſwer our hope in illuſe of a King:
For Henry, Son unto a Conquerour,
Is likely to beget more Conquerors,
If with a Lady of ſo high reſolve,
(As is fair Margaret) he be link'd in Love.
Then yield my Lords, and here conclude with me,
That Margaret ſhall be Queen, and none but the.

King. Whether it be through force of your report,
My Noble Lord of Suffolk: Or for that
My tender youth was never yet attained
With any Paffion of inflaming Love,
I cannot tell : but this I am alluſ'd,
I feel ſuch ſharp diffilation in my Breaſt,
Such ſterſe alarums both of hope and Fear,
As I am ſick with working of my thoughts.
Take therefore ſhipping; poſt, my Lord, to France,
Agree to any Covenants, and procure
That Lady Margaret do vouchſaſe to come
To croſs the Seas to England, and be Crown'd
King Henry's faithful and anointed Queen.
For your Expences and ſuſcient Charge,
Among the people gather up a tenth.
Be gone, I ay, for till you do return,
I reſt perplexed with a thouſand Cares.
And you (good Uncle) baniſh all offence:
If you do cenſure me, by what you were,
Not what you are, I know it will excufe
This ſudden execution of my Will.
And ſo conduct me, where from company,
I may revolve and ruminate my grief.

Glo. I, grief! I fear me, both at firſt and laſt.

[Exit Gloeſt.

Suf. Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd, and thus he goes
As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,
With hope to find the like event in love,
But proper better than the Trojan did:
Margaret ſhall now be Queen, and rule the King:
But I will rule both her, the King, and Realm.

[Exeunt]

FINIS.

The

The Second part of King Henry the Sixth.

134

And shall these Labours, and these Honours die?
Shall Henry's Conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
Your Deeds of War, and all our Counsel die!
O Peers of England, hameful is this League,
Fatal this Marriage, cancelling your Fame,
Blotting your names from Books of memory,
Rafing the Characters of your Renown,
Defacing Monuments of Conquer'd France,
Undoing all, as all had never been.

Car. Nephew, what means this papionate discourse?
This peroration with such circumstance:
For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it full.

Glo. I, Uncle, we will keep it, if we can:
But now it is impoffible we should.
Suffolk, the new made Duke that rules the roft,
Hath given the Dutchy of Anjou and Main,
Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style
Agrees not with the leannefs of his purle.

Sal. Now by the death of him that di'd for all,
Thefe Counties were the Keys of Normandy:
But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant Son?

War. For grief that they are paft recovery.
For were there hope to conquer them again,
My Sword should hied hot Blood, mine Eyes no Tears.

Anjou and Main? My self did win them both:
Thofe Provinces thefe Arms of mine did conquer,
And are the Cities that are got with wounds
Delivered up again with peaceful words?

Mort Dieu.
Tor. For Suffolks Duke, may he be suffocate,
That dims the Honour of this Warlike Life:
France should have torn and rent my very Heart,
Before I would have yielded to this League.
I never read but England's Kings have had
Large fums of Gold, and Dowries with their Wives,
And our King Hemy gives away his own,
To match with her that brings no vantages.

Hem. A proper jeft, and never heard before,
That Suffolk should demand a whole Fifteenth,
For Coft and Charges in transporting her:

She should have flaid in France, and itar'd in France
Before—
Car.

My Lord of Glofter, now ye grow too hot,
It was the pleasure of my Lord the King.

Hun. My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind.
'Tis not my Speeches that you do miflike:
But 'tis my prefence that doth trouble ye,
Rancour will out, proud Prelate, in thy Face
I fee thy fury: If I longer flay,

We shall begin our ancient bickerings:
Lordings farewel, and fay when I am gone,
A propheſed, France will be loft e're long.

Car. So, there goes our Protector in a rage:
'Venue, you shall be my Enemys:
Nay more, an Enemy unto you all,
And no great friend, I fear me, to the King;
Confider Lords, he is the next of Blood,
And Heir apparent to the English Crown:
Had Henry got an Empire by his Marriage,
And all the wealthy Kingdoms of the West,
There's reafon he should be displeas'd at it:
Look to it, Lords, let not his improving words
Bewitch your Hearts, be wife and circumſpect.
What though the common People favour him,
Calling him Humphrey the good Duke of Glofter,
Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice,
Jefu maintain your Royal Excellence,
With God preſerve the good Duke Humphrey.
I fear me, Lords, for all this flattering gloſs,
He will be found a dangerous Protector.

Buck. Why should he then protect our Soveraigne?
He being of age to govern of himself.

Coulin Somerſet, joyn you with me.

And altogether with the Duke of Suffolk,

We'll quickly hoſſe Duke Humphrey from his feat.

Car. This weighty bufneſs will not brook delay,
Please to the Duke of Suffolk prefently.

Som. Coulin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride
And greatneſs of his place be grief to us,
Yet let us all watch the haughty Cardinal,
His infolence is more intolerable
Than all the Princes in the Land before;
If Glofter be diſplaſ'd, he'll be Protector.

Buck. Or thou, or I, Somerſer, will be Protector,
Defpight Duke Humphrey, or the Cardinal.

Exit Buckingham and Somerſet.

Sal. Pride went before, Ambition follows him.
While theſe do labour for their own preferment,
Behoves it us to labour for the Realm.

I never ſaw but Humphrey Duke of Gloſter,
Did bear him like a Noble Gentleman:

Oft have I feen the haughty Cardinal,
More like a Souldier than a Man o'th' Church,
As ſtout and proud as he were Lord of all,
Swear like a Ruffian, and demean himſelf
Unlike the Ruler of a Common-weal.

Warwick my Son, the comfort of my age,
Thy deeds, thy plainneſſs, and thy Houſ-keeping,
Hath won the greateſt favour of the Commons,
Excepting none but Good Duke Humphrey,
And Brother Tork, thy acting in Ireland,

In bringing them to Civil Discipline:
Thy late exploits done in the Heart of France

When thou wert Regent for our Soveraign,
Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the People,
Jojn we together for the publick good,
In what we can, to bridle and suppreſs

The pride of Suffolk, and the Cardinal,

With Somerſet's and Buckingham's ambition,
And as we may cheriſh Duke Humphrey's deeds,
While they do tend the profit of the Land.

War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the Land,
And common profit of his Country.

Tor. And fo fays Tork,

For he hath greateſt caufe.

Sal. Then let's make haſt away,
And look unto the main?

War. Unto the main?

Oh Father, Main is loſt,

That Main, which by main force Warwick did win
And would have kept, ſo long as breath did laſt:
Main-chance Father you meant, but I meant Main,
Which I will win from France, or elfe be flain.

Exit Warwick and Salisbury. Maner York.

Tork. Anjou and Main are given to the French,
Paris is loſt, the ſtate of Normandy

Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone:

Suffolk concluded on the Articles,

The Peers agreed, and Henry was well pleas'd,
To change two Dukedoms for a Dukes fair Daughters.
I cannot blame them all, what is't to them?

'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.

Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage,
And purchase Friends, and give to Curtezans,

Still revelling like Lords till all be gone.

While as the filly owner of the Goods

Weeps over them, and wrings his hapieſs hands,

And ſhakes his Head, and trembling itands aloof,
While all is ſhar'd, and all is born away,

Ready to ſharve, and dare not touch his own.

So Tork muſt fit, and fret, and bite his Tongue,
While his own Lands are bargain'd for, and fold;
Methinks the Realms of England, France and Ireland,
Bear that proportion to my Fleſt and Blood,

As did the fatal brand Althea burnt,
Unto the Princes Heart of Calidon:

Anjou and Main both given unto the French?

Cold news for me: For I had hope of France,

Exe

["The second part of King Henry the Sixth.", "Even as I have of fertile *Englands* foil.", "A day will come, when *York* shall claim his own,", "And therefore I will take the *Nevills* parts,", "And make a few of Love to proud Duke *Humphrey*,", "And when I fy advantage, claim the Crown,", "For that's the golden mark I seek to hit:", "Nor shall proud *Lancaster* unfur my Right,", "Nor hold the Scepter in his Childish Fift,", "Nor wear the Diadem upon his Head,", "Whose Church-like Humours fits not for a Crown.", "Then *Tork* be still a while, till time do serve:", "Watch thou, and wake when others be asleep,", "To pry into the secrets of the State,", "Till *Henry* furfeiting in joys of Love,", "With his new Bride, and *Englands* dear bought Queen,", "And *Humphrey* with the Peers be fain at Jarrs.", "Then will I raife aloft the Milk-white Roſe,", "With whoseweet ſmell the Air ſhall be perfum'd,", "And in my Standard bear the Arms of *Tork*,", "To grapple with the houſe of *Lancaster*,", "And force perforce I'll make him yield the Crown,", "Whole Bookiſh Rule hath pull'd fair *England* down.", "[Exit York.", "Enter Duke Humphrey, and his Wife Elianor.", "*Eli*. Why' droops my Lord, like over-ripen'd Corn,\nCanging the head at *Ceres* plentcious Load ?", "Why doth the great Duke *Humphrey* knit his brows,", "As frowning at the favours of the World?", "Why are thine Eyes fixt to the ſullen Earth,", "Gazing on that which ſeems to dim thy Sight ?", "What feeft thou there ? King *Henry's* Diadem,", "Ischac'd with all the Honours of the World?", "If, gaze on, and grovel on his Face,", "Until thy Head be circled with the fame.", "Put forth thy hand, reach to the Glorious Gold.", "What, is't too ſhort? I'le lengthen it with mine.", "And having both together heav'd it up,", "Well both together lift our Heads to Heaven,", "And never more abafe our Sight ſo low,", "As to vouchſafe one glance upon the ground.", "*Hum.* O *Nell*, Iweet *Nell*, if thou doſt love thy Lord,", "Banil the Canker of ambitious Thoughts:", "And may that thought, when I imagine ill", "Againſt my King and Nephew, virtuons *Henry*,", "Be my Iaſt breathing in this Mortal World.", "My troublous Dreams this Night doth make me ſad.", "*Eli*. What dream'd my Lord, tell me, and Ple require it", "With fweet Rehearſal of our mornings Dream?", "*Hum.* Me thought this Staff, mine Office-bagd in Court,", "Wasbroke in twain : by whom, I have forgot,", "But as I think, it was by th' Cardinal,", "Andon the pieces of the broken Wand", "Were plac'd the Heads of *Edmond* Duke of *Somerset*,", "And *William de la Pole* firſt Duke of *Suffolk*,", "This was the Dream, what it doth bode, God knows.", "*Eli*. Tut, this was nothing but an Argument,", "That he that breaks a Stick of Gloſter's Grove,", "Shall loſe his Head for his Proluſumption.", "But lift to me, my *Humphrey*, my Iweet Duke :", "Me thought I fate in Seat of Majefty,", "In the Cathedral Church of *Weſtminſter*,", "And in that Chair where Kings and Queens were Crown'd,", "Where *Henry* and *Margaret* kneel'd to me,", "And on my Head did fet the Diadem.", "*Hum.* Nay, *Elianor*, then muſt I chide out-right :", "Prefuſpuous Dame, ill-natur'd *Elianor*,", "Art thou not ſecond Woman in the Realm ?", "And the Proteſtors Wife beſt'rd of him ?", "Haſt thou not worldly Pleasure at command,", "Above the reach or compaſs of thy Thought ?", "And wilt thou ſtill be hammering Treachery,", "To tumble down thy Husband, and thy ſelf,", "From top of Honour, to Diſgraces Feet ?", "Away from me, and let me hear no more.", "*Eli*. What, what, my Lord, are you ſo Cholerick", "With *Elianor*, for telling but her Dream ?", "Next time, I'le keep my Dreams unto my ſelf,", "And not be check'd.", "*Hum.* Nay, be not angry, I am pleas'd again.", "*Enter Meſſenger.*", "*Meſſ.* My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highneſs pleafure,\nYou do prepare to ride unto St. *Albans*,", "Whereas the King and Queen do mean to Hawk.", "*Hu.* I go: Come *Nell*, thou wilt ride with us ?", "*Eli.* Yes, my good Lord, I'll follow preeſently.", "Follow I muſt, I cannot go before,", "While *Gloſter* bears this bafe and humble Mind.", "Were I a Man, a Duke, and next of blood,", "I would remove theſe tedious ſtumbling blocks,", "And ſmooth my way upon their Headleſs Necks.", "And being a Woman, I will not be flack", "To play my part in Fortunes Pageant.", "Where are you there ? *Sir John*, may fear not Man,", "We are alone, here's none but thee and I.", "*Enter Hume.* Hume. Jefus preeferve your Royal Majefty.", "*Eli.* What faſt thou ? Majefty: I am but Grace.", "*Hume.* But by the Grace of God, and *Humes* advice,", "Your Graces Title ſhall be multiply'd.", "*Eli.* What ſay'ſt thou Man ? Haſt thou as yet conferr'd", "With *Margery Jordan* the cunning Witch,", "With *Roger Bullingbrook* the Conjurer,", "And will they undertake to do me good ?", "*Hume.* This they have preeſited to ſhow your Highneſſ", "A Spirit raiſ'd from depth of under Ground,", "That ſhall make anſwer to ſuch Queſtions,", "As by your Grace ſhall be propounded him.", "*Eli.* It is enough, I pleg this upon the Queſtions :", "When from Saint *Albans* we do make return ;", "We'll fee ſhove things effected to the full.", "Here *Hume*, take this reward, make merry Man", "With thy Confederates in this weighty Caufe.", "[Exit Elianor.", "*Hum.* *Hume* muſt make merry with the Dutchefs Gold :", "Marry and ſhall: but how now, *Sir John Hume*?", "Seal up your Lips, and give no words but Mum,", "The buſineſs asketh ſilent ſecrecy.", "Dame *Elianor* gives Gold, to bring the Witch :", "Gold cannot come amifs, were ſhe a Devil.", "Yet have I Gold flies from another Coaſt :", "I dare not ſay, from the Rich Cardinal,", "And from the great and new-made Duke of *Suffolk*,", "Yet I do find it ſo: For to be plain,", "They (knowing Dame *Elianors* humour)", "Have hired me to under-mine the Dutchefs,", "

137

Buck, Lord Cardinal, I will follow Elianor,
And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds:
She's tickled now, her Fume can need no spurs,
She'll gallop far enough to her destruction.

[Exit Buckingham.

Enter Humphrey.

Humph. Now, Lords, my Choler being over-blown,
With walking once about the Quadrangle,
I come to talk of Common-wealth Affairs.
As for your spightful false Objections,
Prove them, and I lye open to the Law:
But God in mercy so deal with my Soul,
As I in Duty love my King and Country.
But to the matter that we have in hand :
Ifay, my Soveraign, York is meetest man
To be your Regent in the Realm of France.

Suff. Before we make Election, give me leave
To fhow fome reaſon, of no little force,
That York, is moſt unmeet of any Man.

York. Ile tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet.

Firſt, for I cannot flatter thee in Pride:

Next, if I be appointed for the Place,
My Lord of Somerſet will keep me here,
Without Diſcharge, Money, or Furniture,
Till France be won into the Dolphin's hands.

Laſt time I danc't attendance on his will,
Till Paris was befieſd, famiſh't, and laſt.

War. That can I witneſſ, and a ſouter Faſt
Did never Traytor in the Land commit.

Suff. Peace, head-ſtrong Warwick.

War. I mage of Pride, why ſhould I hold my Peace ?

Enter Armorer and his Man.

Suff. Because here is a Man accus'd of Treaſon,

Pray God the Duke of York excufe himſelf.

York. Doth any one accuſe York for a Traytor ?

King. What mean't thou, Suffolk? tell me, what are
thefe?

Suff. Pleaſe it your Majeſt, this is the Man

That doth accuſe his Maſter of High-Treaſon :
His words were theſe: That Richard, Duke of York,
Was rightful Heir unto the English Crown,
And that your Majeſty was an Ulpurer.

King. Say my Lord, were theſe thy words ?

Armo. And't ſhall pleaſe your Majeſt, I never faid
nor thought any ſuch matter: God is my witneſſ, I am
ſally accuſ'd by the Villain.

Peter. By theſe ten bones, my Lords, he did ſpeak
them to me in the Garret one Night, as we were ſow-
ring my Lord of York's Armour.

York. Bafe Dunghil Villain, and Mechanical,
Ple have thy Head for this thy Traytors ſpeech:
I do beſeech your Royal Majeſt,

Let him have all the rigour of the Law.

Armo. Alas, my Lord, hang me if ever I ſpake the words:
my accuſer is my Prentice, and when I did correct him
for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his Knees he
would be even with me: I have good witneſſ of this,
therefore I beſeech your Majeſt, do not caſt away an
honest Man for a Villains Accuſation.

King. Uncle, what ſhall we ſay to this in Law ?

Humph. This doom, my Lord, if I may Judge:

Let Somerſet be Regent o're the French,

Because in York this breeds ſuſpicion:

And let theſe have a day appointed them

For single Combat, in convenient place,

For he hath witneſſ of his Servants Malice :

This is the Law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom.

Som. I humbly thank your Royal Majeſt.

Armorer. And I accept the Combat willingly.

Peter. Alas, my Lord, I cannot fight; for God's ſake

pity my caſe: the ſpight of my Maſter prevaileth againſt
me. O Lord have mercy upon me, I ſhall never be able to
fight a blow: O Lord, my heart.

Humph. Sirrah, or you muſt fight, or eſſe be hang'd.

King. Away with them to Prifon: and the day of
Combat, ſhall be the laſt of the next Month. Come So-
merſet, we'll fee theſe ſent away.

Flourish.

[Exeunt.]

Enter the Witch, the two Prieſts, and Bullingbrook.

Hume. Come, my Maſters, the Dutcheſſs, I tell you,
expects perſormance of your promiſes.

Bulling. Maſter Hume, we are therefore provided:
Will her Ladiſhip behoſd and hear our Exorcifmes ?

Hume. I, what eſſe? Fear you not her Courage.

Bulling. I have heard her reported to be a Woman of
an invincible ſpirit: but it ſhall be convenient, Maſter
Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be buſe be-
low: and fo, I pray you, go in God's Name, and leave us.

[Exe. Hume.

Mother Jordan, be you proftrate, and grovel on the
Earth; John Southwell, read you, and let us to our work.

Enter Elianor aloft.

Elian. Well faid, my Maſters, and welcome to all: To
this geer, the ſooner the better.

Bull. Patience, good Lady, Wizard's know their times:
Deep Night, dark Night, the filent of the Night,
The time of Night when Troy was fet on Fire,

The times when Screech-owls cry, and Ban-dogs howl ;

And Spirits walk, and Ghoſts break up their Graves ;
That time fits beſt the work we have in hand.

Madam, fit you, and fear not: whom we raife,
We will make ſaſt within a hallow'd Verge.

Here do the Ceremonies belonging, and make the Circle, Bul-
lingbrook, or Southwell reads, Conjuro to, &c. It
Thunders and Lightens terribly: then the Spirit rifeſt,

Spirit. Adſum.

Witch. Aſmath, by the Eternal God,
Whofe Name and Power thou trembleſt at,
Anſwer that I ask: For till thou ſpeak,
Thou ſhalt not paſs from hence.

Spirit. Ask what thou wilt ; that I had faid, and done,

Bulling. Firſt of the King: What ſhall of him be-
come?

Spirit. The Duke yet lives, that Henry ſhall depoſe :

But him out-live, and dye a violent Death.

Bull. What Fates await the Duke of Suffolk?

Bull. By Water ſhall he dye, and take his end.

Bull. What ſhall beſfall the Duke of Somerſet ?

Spirit. Let him ſhun Caſtles.

Safer ſhall he be upon the ſandy Plains,

Than where Caſtles mounted ſtand.

Have done, for more I hardly can endure.

Bull. Defend to Darkneſſ, and the burning Lake :

Falſe Fiend avoid.

Thunder and Lightning.

[Exit Spirit.

Enter the Duke of York, and the Duke of Buckingham, with
their Guard, and break in.

York. Lay hands upon theſe Traytors, and their trafſe:

Beldam, I think we watch't you at an Inch.
What, Madam, are you there? The King and Common-weal
Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains ;

My Lord Proteſor will, I doubt it not,

See you well guerdon'd for theſe good deferts.

Elian. Not half fo bad as thine to England's King,
Injurious Duke, that threatn't where's no caufe.

Buck. True, Madam, none at all: what call you this?

Nn 3

Away

138

Away with them, let them be clap't up close,
And kept 't afunder: you, Madam, shall with us.
Stafford take her to thee.

We'll fee your trinkets here all forth-coming.

All away.

[Exit.]

Tork. Lord Buckingham, methinks you watch't her
A pretty Plot, well chosen to build upon.

Now, pray my Lord, let's fee the Devil's Writ.

(well.)

What have we here?

[Reads.]

The Duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose;
But him out-lives, and dye a violent death.

Why this is juſt: Aio Aacide Romanos vincere poſse.

Well, to the reſt:

Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk?

By Water shall he dye, and take his end.

What shall betide the Duke of Somerset?
Let him beun Castles,
Safer shall he be upon the fandie Plains,
Than where Castles mounted ſtand,
Come, come, my Lords,
Thefe Oracles are hardly attain'd,
And hardly underfood.

The King is now in progreſs towards Saint Albans,

With him, the Husband of this lovely Lady:

Thither goes theſe News,

As faſt as Horſe can carry them:

A forry breakfast for my Lord Protector.

Buck. Your Grace ſhall give me leave, my Lord of York,

To be the Poſt, in hope of his reward.

York. At your pleafure, my good Lord.

Who's within there, hoe?

Enter a Serving-man.

Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick.

To ſup with me to morrow Night. Away.

[Exeunt.]

Enter the King, Queen, Protector, Cardinal, and
Suffolk, with Faulkners hollowing.

Queen. Believe me Lords, for flying at the Brook,
I faw no better ſport theſe ſeven years day;
Yet by your leave, the wind was very high,
And ten to one, old Joan had not gone out.

King. But what a point, my Lord, your Faulcon made,
And what a pitch he flew above the reſt:

To fee how God in all his Creatures works,

Yea Man and Birds are fain of climbing high.

Suff. No marvel, and it like your Majesty,
My Lord Protector's Hawks do towre ſo well;
They know their Maſter loves to be aloft,

And bears his thoughts above his Falcons pitch.

Gloſt. My Lord, 'tis but a bafe ignoble mind,

That mounts no higher than a Bird can foar.

Card. I thought as much, he would be above the
Clouds.

Gloſt. I, my Lord Cardinal, how think you by that ?
Were it not good, your Grace could ſlie to Heaven?

King. The Treasury of everlaſting Joy.

Card. Thy Heaven is on Earth; thine Eyes and Thoughts
Beat on a Crown, the Treasure of thy Heart,

Pernicious Protector, dangerous Peer,
That smooth't it is with King and Commonweal.
Gloſt. What, Cardinal?

Is your Prieft hood grown preemptory?

Tantane animis Celeſtibus iræ, Church-men ſo hot ?

Good Uncle, hide ſuch Malice:

With ſuch Holines can you do it?

Suff. No malice, Sir, no more than well becomes
So good a Quarrel, and ſo bad a Peer.

Gloſt. As who, my Lord ?

Suff. Why, as you, my Lord,

An't like your Lordly Lord Protectorſhip.

Gloſt. Why Suffolk, England knows thine inſolence.

Queen. And thy Ambition, Gloſter.

King. I prethee peace, good Queen,
And whet not on theſe too-too-furious Peers,
For bleſſed are the Peace-makers on Earth.

Card. Let me be bleſſed for the Peace I make
Againſt this proud Protector with my Sword.

Gloſt. Faith, Holy Uncle, would 'twere come to the.

Card. Marry, when thou dar't.

Gloſt. Make up no faſtions numbers for the matter,
In thine own perſon anſwer thy abufe.

Card. I, where thou dar't not peep:
And if thou dar't, this evening,

On the Eaſt ſide of the Grove.

King. How now, my Lords?

Card. Believe me, Couſin Gloſter,
Had not your man put up the Fowl ſo ſuddenly,
We had had more iport.

Come with thy two-hand Sword.

Gloſt. True, Uncle, are ye advis'd?

The Eaſt ſide of the Grove :

Cardinal, I am with you.

King. Why how now, Uncle Gloſter?

Gloſt. Talking of Hawking, nothing ſelfe, my Lord,
Now by Gods Mother, Pricit,
I'le have your Crown for this,
Or all my fence ſhall fail.

Car. Medice teipſum, Protector fee too't well, proud your ſelf.

King. The Winds grow high,
So do your Stomacks, Lords:

How iſkome is this Mufick to my heart?

When ſuch Strings jarr, what hope of Harmony?
I pray, my Lords, let me compound this ſtrife.

Enter one crying a Miracle.

Gloſt. What means this noife ?

Fellow, what Miracle do'ſt thou proclaim ?
One. A Miracle, a Miracle.

Suffolk. Come to the King, and tell him, what Miracle

One. Forfooth, a blind man at St. Albans' Shrine,
Within this half hour hath receiv'd his fight,
A man that ne're faw in his life before.

King. Now God be prais'd, that to believing Souls
Gives Light in Darkneſs, Comfort in Despair.

Enter the Mayor of Saint Albans, and his
Brethren, bearing the Man between
two in a Chair.

Card. Here comes the Towns-men on proceſſion,
To preſent your Highneſs with the man.

King. Great is his comfort in this Earthly Vale,
Although by his fight his fin be multiplied.

Gloſt. Stand by, my Maſters, bring him near the King.
His Highneſs pleafure is to talk with him.

King. Good-fellow, tell us here the circumſtance,
That we for thee may glorife the Lord.

What, haſt thou been long blind, and now reſtort'd?

Simp. Born blind, and't pleafe your Grace.

Wife. I indeed was he.

Suff. What Woman is this?

Wife. His Wife, and't pleafe your Worſhip.

Gloſt. Had't thou been his Mother, thou could't have better told.

King. Where wert thou born?

Simp. At Barwick in the North, and't like your
Grace.

King. Poor Soul,
God's goodneſs hath been great to thee:
Let never Day nor Night unhallowed pafs,
But ſtill remember what the Lord hath done.

Queen. Tell me, Good-fellow,
Can't thou here by Chance, or of Devotion
To this Holy Shrine?

Simp.

141

Enter at one Door the Armorer and his Neighbours, drink-
ing to him so much, that he is drunk, and he enters
with a Drum before him, and his Staff with a Sand-
bag fastened to it: and at the other Door his Man,
with a Drum and a Sand-bag, and Prentices drink-
ing to him.

1. **Neighbour.** Here, Neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a Cup of Sack; and fear not, Neighbour, you shall do well enough.

2. **Neighbour.** And here, Neighbour, here's a Cup of Charneco.

3. **Neighbour.** And here's a Pot of good double-Beer,
Neighbour: drink, and fear not your Man.

Armorer. Let it come yfaith, and I'le pledge you all,
and a fig for Peter.

1. Pren. Here Peter I drink to thee, and be not a-
fraid.

2. Pren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy Mafter;
fight for the credit of the Prentices.

Peter. I thank you all: drink; and pray for me, I pray you, for I think I have taken my laft Draught in this World. Here Robin, if I dye, I give thee: my Apron; and Will, thou fhalt have my Hammer: and here, Tom, take all the Money that I have. O Lord blefs me, I pray God, for I am never able to deal with my Mafter, he hath learnt fo much to fence already.

Salis. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows.

Sirrah, what's thy Name?

Peter. Peter, forfooth.

Salis. Peter ? what more ?

Peter. Thump.

Salis. Thump ? Then fee thou thump thy Mafter well.

Armorer. Mafters, I am come hither as it were upon
my man's inſtigation, to prove him a Knave, and my ſelf
an honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will
take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the King
nor the Queen, and therefore Peter have at thee with a
down right blow.

Tork. Difpatch: this Knaves tongue begins to double.
Sound Trumpets, Alarum to the Combatants.

They fight, and Peter ſtrikes him down.

Armorer. Hold Peter, hold, I confeyſ, I confess Treason.

Tork. Take away his Weapon: Fellow, thank God,
and the good Wine in thy Maſters way.

Peter. O God, have I overcome mine Enemy in this
prefence? O Peter thou prevail'd in right.

King. Go, take hence that Traytor from our fight,
For by his death we do perceive his guilt.

And God in Juftice hath reveal'd to us

The Truth and Innocence of this poor Fellow,
Which he had thought to have murther'd wrongfully.
Come Fellow, follow us for thy Reward.

[Exeunt.

Enter Duke Humfrey and his Men in Mourning Cloaks.

Gloſt. Thus fometimes hath the brightest day a Cloud;
And after Summer, evermore ſucceeds
Barren Winter, with his wrathful nipping Cold;
So Cares and Joyes abound, as Seaſons fleet.

Sirs, what's a Clock ?

Serv. Ten, my Lord.

Gloſt. Ten is the hour that was appointed me,
To watch the coming of my puniſh'd Dutchefls:

Unneath may ſhe endure the Flinty Streets,

To tread them with thy tender-feeling Feet.

Sweet Nell, ill can thy Noble mind a-brook
The abject People gazing on thy Face,

With envious Looks ſtill laughing at thy ſhame,
That erſt did follow thy proud Chariot-Wheels,

When thou didſt ride in Triumph through the ſtrees.
But ſoft, I think ſhe comes, and Ile prepare

My Tear-flain'd Eyes, to fee her Miferies.

Enter the Dutchefls in a white Sheet, and a Taper bur-
ning in her hand, with the Sheriff and Officers.

Serv. So pleafe your Grace, we'll take her from the
Sheriff.

Gloſter. No, ſtir not for your lives, let her paſs by.

Eliar. Come you, my Lord, to fee my open ſhame ?
Now thou do'ſt Penance too. Look how they gaze,

See how the giddy multitude do point,

And nod their heads, and throw their Eyes on thee.

Ah Glofter, hide thee from their hateful looks,

And in thy Cloſet pent up, rue my ſhame,

And ban their Enemies, both mine and thine.

Gloſt. Be patient, gentle Nell, forget this Grief

Eliar. Ah Glofter, teach me to forget my ſelf:

For whil't I think I am thy married Wife,

And thou a Prince, Protector of this Land :

Methinks I ſhould not thus be led along,

Mail'd up in ſhame, with Papers on my Back,

And follow'd with a Rabble, that rejoice.

To fee my Tears, and hear my deep-fet Groans.

The ruthleſs Flint doth cut my tender Feet,

And when I ſtart the envious People laugh,

And bid me be advifed, how I tread.

Ah Humſrey, can I bear this ſhameful yoak ?

Troweſt thou, that e're I'le look upon the World,
Or count them happy, that enjoyes the Sun?

No: Dark ſhall be my Light, and Night my Day.

To think upon my Pomp, ſhall be my Hell.

Sometime I ple ſay I am Duke Humſrey's Wife,

And he a Prince, and Ruler of the Land :

Yet ſo he Rul'd, and ſuch a Prince he was,

As he ſtood by, whileſt I his forlorn Dutchefls,

Was made a Wonder, and a pointing Stock

To every idle Rafcal Follower.

But be thou mild, and bluſh not at my ſhame,

Nor ſtir at nothing, till the Axe of Death

Hang over thee, as ſure it ſhortly will.

For Suffolks, he that can do all in all

With her, that hatech thee, and hates me all,

And Tork, and impious Beauford, that falſe Prief,

Have all lim'd Buſhes to betray thy Wings,

And flie thou how thou canſt, they'll tangle thee,

But fear thou not until thy Foot be ſnar'd,

Nor ever feek prevention of thy Foes.

Gloſt. Ah, Nell, forbear: thou aimeſt all awry.
I muſt offend, before I be attained :

And had I twenty times ſo many Foes,

And each of them had twenty times their power,

All thefe could not procure me any ſcathe,

So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeleſs,

Would'ſt have me reſcue thee from this Reproach ?

Why yet thy Scandal were not wip't away,

But I in danger for the breach of Law.

Thy greateſt help is quiet, gentle Nell :

I pray thee forſt thy Heart to Patience,

Theſe few dayes wonder will be quickly worn.

Enter a Herald.

Her. I ſummon your Grace to his Majeſties Parliament
Holden at Bury, the firſt of this next Month.

Gloſt. And my confent ne're ask'd herein before?

This is cloſe dealing. Well, I will be there,

My Nell, I take my leave; and Maſter ſheriff,

Let not her Penance exceed the Kings Commiffion.

Sher. And't pleafe your Grace, here my Commiſſion ſtays:

And Sir John Stanly is appointed now,

To take her with him to the Ille of Man.

Gloſt. Muſt you, Sir John, protec't my Lady here ?

Stanly. So am I given in charge, may't pleafe your Grace

Gloſt. Entreat her not the worſe, in that I pray

You ſe her well: the World may laugh again,

And I may live to do you kindneſs, if you do it her.
And ſo, Sir John, Farewell.

Eliar.

The second Part of King Henry the Sixth.

142

Elian. What, gone my Lord, and bid me not farewel.
Gloster. Witneſs my Tears, I cannot say to speak.

[Exit] Gloster.

Elian. Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee,
For none abides with me: my Joy is Death;
Death, at whose Name I oft have been afraid,
Because I wifd this World's Eternity.

Stanly I prethee go, and take me hence,
I care not whither, for I beg no Favour

Only convey me where thou art commanded.
Stan. Why Madam, that is to the Isle of man,
There to be us'd according to your State.

Elian. That's bad enough, for I am but Reproach:
And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?

Stan. Like to a Dutchefs, and Duke Humfrey's Lady,
According to that State you shall be us'd.

Elian. Serife farewel, and better, than I, fare,

Although thou haſt been Conduct of my ſhame.

Sbe. It is my Office, and Madam pardon me.

Elian I, I, farewel, thy Office is diſcharg'd:

Come Stanly, shall we go?

Stan. Madam, your Penance done,
Throw off this Sheet,

And go we to attire you for our Journey.

Elian. My ſhame will not be shifted with my Sheet:
No, it will hang upon my richeſt Robes,
And ſhew it ſelf, attire me how I can.

Go, lead the way, I long to fee my Prifon.

[Exeunt]

Enter King, Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buck-
ingham, Salisbury, and Warwick, to the Parliament.

King. I mule my Lord of Gloſter is not come:
'Tis not his want to be the hindmost man,
What e're occasion keeps him from us now.

Queen. Can you not fee? or will ye not obſerve
The Itrangels of his alter'd Countenance ?
With what a Majety he bears himſelf,
How inſolent of late he is become,
How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himſelfe
We know the time ſince he was mild and affable,
And if we did but glance a far-off Look,

Immediatly he was upon his Knee,
That all the Court admir'd him for ſubſimillion.
But meet him now, and be it in the Morn,
When every one will give the time of day,
He knits his Brow, and ſhews an angry Eye,
And palfeth by with stiff unbowed Knee,
Difdaining duty that to us belongs.

Small Curs are not regarded when they grin,
But Great men tremble when the Lyon roars,
And Humſrey is no little man in England.
First note, that he is near you in deſcent,

And should you fall, he is the next will mount.
Me ſeemeth then, it is no Policy,
Respecting what a Rancorous mind he bears,
And his Advantage following your Deceafe,
That he ſhould come about your Royal Perſon,
Or be admitted to your Highneſs Council.

By Flattery hath he won the Commons Hearts:
And when he pleafe to make Commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.

Now 'tis the Spring, and Weeds are ſhallow Rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o're-grow the Garden,
And choak the Herbs for want of Husbandry,
The Reverent care I bear unto my Lord,

Made me collect these Dangers in the Duke.
If it be fond, call it a Womans Fear:
Which fear, if better Reaſons can ſupplant,
I will ſubſcribe, and ſay I wrong'd the Duke.
My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
Reprove my Allegation, if you can,

Or else conclude my words effectual.

Sluff. Well hath your Highneſs ſeen into this Duke:

And had I firſt been put to ſpeak my mind,
I think I ſhould have told your Graces Tale.

The Dutchefs, by his Suburation,
Upon my Life began her Devilish Practices:

Or if he were not privie to thofe Faults,
Yet by reputing of his high Defcents.

As next the King, he was ſuccelſive Heir,

And ſuch high Vauts of his Nobility,

Did inſtigate the Bedlam brainſick Dutchefs,

By wicked means to frame our Soveraign's Fall.

Smooth runs the Water where the Brook is deep,

And in his ſimple ſhew he harbours Treafon.

The Fox barks not, but he would ſteal the Lamb,
No, no, my Soveraign, Gloſter is a Man

Unfounded yet, and full of deep Deceit.

Card. Did he not, contrary to form of Law,
Devife Itrange Deaths, for ſmall Offences done?

Tork. And did he not, in his Protectorhip,

Levy great ſumms of Money through the Realm,
For Souldiurs pay in France, and never ſent it?

By means whereof the Towns each day revolted.

Buck. Tut, theſe are petty faults to faults unknown.
Which time will bring to light in ſmooth Duke Humphrey.

King. My Lords at once: the care you have of us,
To mow down Thorns that would annoy our Foot,
Is worthy praiſe: but ſhall I ſpeak my confidence,
Our Kinaſman Gloſter is as innocent,

From meaning Treafon to our Royal Perſon,

As is the fucking Lamb, or harmleſs Dove:
The Duke is Virtuous, Mild, and too well given:
To dream on evil, or to work my downfal.

Qu. Ah! what's more dangerous, than this ſond affaſt:
Seems he a Dove ? his Feathers are but borrow'd,
For he is diſpoſed as the hateful Raven.

Is he a Lamb? his Skin was ſurely lent him,

For he's enclin'd as is the Ravenous Wolves.

Who cannot ſteal a Shape that means Deceit?

Take heed, my Lord, the welfare of us all,

Hangs on the cutting ſhort that Fraudful man.

Enter Somerſer.

Som. All Health unto my Gracious Soveraign.

King. Welcome Lord Somerſet: What news from France?

Som. That all our intereſt in thate Territories,
Is utterly bereſt you : all is loft.

King. Cold News, Lord Somerſet : but Gods will be done.

Tork. Cold News for me : for I had hope of Frau,
As firmly as I hope for Fertile England.

Thus are my B. offoms blafed in the Bud,

And Caterpillars eat my Leaves away.

But I will remedy this geare e're long,

Or ſell my Title for a glorious Grave.

Enter Gloceſter.

Gloſt. All happineſs unto my Lord the King:

Pardon, my Liege, that I have ſtay'd ſo long.

Suff. Nay, Gloſter, know that thou art come too ſoon
Unleſſe thou were't more Loyal than thou art:

I do arreſt thee of High Treafon here.

Gloſt. Well Suffolk, yet thou ſhalt not fee me blith,
Nor change my Countenance for this Arreſt:

A heart unſpotted is not easily daunted.

The pureſt Spring is not ſo free from mud,

As I am clear from Treafon to my Soveraign,
Who can accuſe me ? wherein am I guilty?

Tork. 'Tis thought, my Lord,

That you took Bribes of France,

And being Protector ſtay'd the Souldiurs pay,
By means whereof his Highneſs hath loft France.

Gloſt. Is it but thought fo?

What are they that think it?

I never rob'd the Souldiurs of their pay,

Nor never had one pennyri Eribe from France.
So help me God, as I have watcht the Night,

I, might

144

No: let him dye, in that he is a Fox,
By Nature prov'd an Enemy to the Flock,
Before his Chaps be stain'd with Crimfon Blood,
As Humphrey prov'd by Reafons to my Liege.
And do not fand on Quillets how to lay him:
Be it by Ginns, by Snares, by Subtilty,
Sleeping, or Waking, ?tis no matter how,
So he be dead ; for that is good deceit
Which mates him firft, that firft intends deceit.

Queen. Thrice noble Suffolk, ?tis refolute spoke.

Suff. Not refolute, except so much were done,
For things are often spoke, and seldom meant,
But that my Heart accordeth with my Tongue,
Seeing the deed is meritorious,
And to preserve my Soveraign from his Foe,
Say but the word, and I will be his Prieft.

Card. But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk,
Ere you can take due Orders for a Prieft:
Say you confent, and cenfure well the deed,
And I'll provide his Executioner,
I tender fo the faefity of my Liege.

Suff. Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.

Queen. And fo say I.

Tork. And I: and now we three have spoke it,
It skils not greatly who impugnes our doom.

Enter a Pofc.

Poft. Great Lords, from Ireland am I come amain,
To signifie, that Rebels there are up,
And put the Englishmen unto the Sword;
Send Succours (Lords) and stop the Rage betime,
Before the Wound do grow incurable;
For being green, there is great hope of help.

Card. A Breach that craves a quick expedient stop.
What Counſel give you in this weighty Caufe?

York. That Somerſet be ſent a Regent thither:

'Tis meet the lucky Ruler be imploy'd,
Witneſs the Fortune he hath had in France.

Som. If York, with all his far-fet Policy,
Had been the Regent there, inſtead of me,
He never would have ſtay'd in France ſo long.

Tork. No, not to loſe it all, as thou haſt done.
I rather would have loft my Life betimes,
Than bring a burthen of Difhonour home,
By ſtaying there ſo long, 'till all were loft.
Shew me one Skar character'd on thy Skin.
Men's Fleſh preſerv'd ſo whole, do ſeldom win.

Queen. Nay then, this ſpark will prove a raging Fire,
If Wind and Fuel be brought, to feed it with :
No more, good York, ſweet Somerſet be ſill.
Thy Fortune, York, hadſt thou been Regent there,
Might haply have prov'd far worse than his.

York. What, worse than naught ? nay, then a ſhame
take all.

Somer. And in the number, thee, that wiſheſt ſhame.

Card. My Lord of York, try what your Fortune is,
Th' uncivil Kerns of Ireland are in Arms,
And temper Clay with Blood of English-men.
To Ireland will you lead a Band of men,
Collected choiceely, from each Country ſome,
And try your hap againſt the Irish-men?

York. I will, my Lord, ſo pleafe his Majeſty.

Suff. Why, our Authority is his Conſent,
And what we do Eſtabliſh he Conſirms ;
Then, Noble York, take thou this task in hand.

York. I am content : Provide me Souldiers, Lords,
Whiles I take Order for mine own Affairs.

Suff. A charge, Lord York, that I will fee perform'd.
But now return we to the falſe Duke Humphrey.

Card. No more of him: for I will deal with him,
That henceforth he ſhall trouble us no more :
And ſo break off, the day is almoſt ſpent,
Lord Suffolk, you and I muſt talk of that event.

York. My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days.
At Briflow I expect my Souldiers,

For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.

Suff. I'le fee it truly done, my Lord of Yorks.

York. Now York, or never, steel thy fearful thought
And change mif-doubt to Reſolution ;
Be that thou hop'ft to be, or what thou art
Reſign to death, it is not worth th' enjoying :
Let pale-fac'd Fear keep with the mean-born man,
And find no harbour in a Royal Heart.

After than Spring-time showers, comes thought on thought
And not a thought, but thinks on Dignity.

My Brain, more buſie than the labouring Spider,
Weave tedious Snares to trap mine Enemies.

Well Nobles, well: ?tis politickly done,
To fend me packing with an Hoft of Men :
I fear me, you but warm the ſtarved Snake,
Who cheriſh'd in your Breaſts, will ſting your Hearts,
'Twas Men I lack'd, and you will give them me;
I take it kindly : yet be well affur'd,
You put ſharp Weapons in a Mad-man's hands.
Whileſt I in Ireland nouriſh a mighty Band,
I will ſtir up in England ſome black Storm,
Shall blow ten thouſand Souls to Heaven or Hell:
And this ſell Tempeſt ſhall not ccaſe to rage,
Until the Golden Circuit on my Head
Like to the glorious Sun's transparent Beams,
Do calm the Fury of this mad-bred Flaw.

And for a Minifter of my intent,
I have ſeduc'd a head-ſtrong Kentish-man,
John Cade of Alford.

To make Commotion, as full well he can,
Under the Title of John Mortimer.

In Ireland have I feen this ſtubborn Cade
Oppoſe himſelf againſt a Troop of Kerns,
And fought ſo long, till that his Thighs with Darts
Were almoſt like a ſharp-qui'd Porpentine :
And in the end being ſeuc'd, I have ſeen
Him caper upright, like a wild Morifco,
Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.
Full often, like a ſhag-hair'd crafty Kern,
Hath he conversed with the Enemy,
And undifcover'd come to me again,
And give me notice of their Villanies.

This Devil here ſhall be my ſubſtitute,
For that John Mortimer, which is now dead,
In Face, in Gate, in Speech he doth reſembl.
By this, I ſhall perceive the Commons mind,
How they affect the Houſe and Claim of York.
Say he be taken, rack'd and tortured ;
I know, no pain they can inſiſt upon him,
Will make him ſay, I mov'd him to that Arms.
Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will,
Why then from Ireland come I with my ſtrength,
And reap the Harveſt which that Raſcal ſow'd,
For Humphrey being dead, as he ſhall be,
And Henry put a-part : the next for me.

[Eaſt]

Enter two or three running over the Stage, from the Martin of
Duke Humphrey.

1. Run to my Lord of Suffolk: let him know
We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded.

2. Oh, that it were to do ; what have we done?
Did it ever hear a Man ſo penitent?

[Enter Suffolk]
1. Here comes my Lord.

Suff. Now, Sirs, have you dispatch this thing?

1. I, my good Lord, he's dead.

Suff. Why that's well faid. Go, get you to my Houſe.
I will reward you for this venturous deed:
The King and all the Peers are here at hand.

Have you laid fair the Bed ? and are all things well,
According as I gave directions ?

1. 'Tis, my good Lord.

Suff. Away, be gone.

[Exeunt]

147

Thou wilt but add increase unto my Wrath.
Had I but fain, I would have kept my word;
But when I wear it is irrevocable:
If after three days space thou here be'ft found,
On any ground that I am Ruler of,
The World shall not be Ranome for thy Life,
Come Warwick, come good Warwick, go with me,
I have great matters to impart to thee.

*Queen.* Mifchance and Sorrow go along with you,
Hearts Discontent, and lower Affliction,

*Be.* Play-fellows to keep you company :
There's two of you, the Devil made a third,
And three-fold Vengeance tend upon your fteps.

*Suff.* Ceaſe gentle Queen, theſe Execrations,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

*Queen.* Fie Coward woman, and foſt-hearted wretch,
Halt thou not Spirit to Curſe thine Enemy?

*Suff.* A Plague upon them: wherefore ſhould I Curſe
them?

*Would Curſes kill, as doth the Mandrakes groan,*

*I would invent as bitte ſearching terms,*
*As curſe, as harſh, and horrible to hear,*
*Deliver'd ſtrongly through my fixed Teeth,*

*With full as many ſignes of deadly Hates,*

*As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome Cave.*

*My Tongue ſhould ſtumble in mine earneſt words,*

*Mine Eyes ſhould sparkle like the beaten Flint,*
*Mine Hair be fixt an end, as one diftraſt :*

*I, every Joynt ſhould seem to Curſe and Ban,*

*And even now my burthen'd heart would break,*

*Should I not Curſe them. Poifon be their Drink,*

*Gall, worſe than Gall, the daintieſt that they taſteth :*

*Their ſweete ſtnde, a Grove of Cypreſs Trees :*

*Their chiefeſt Proſpect, murd'ring Baſiſks :*

*Their ſoftſteft Touch, as ſmard as Lizards ſtngs :*

*Their Muſick, frightful as the Serpents hſis,*

*And boading Screech- Owls, make the Confort full.*

*All the foul Terrors in dark-feated Hell—*

*Queen. Enough ſweet Suffolk, thou torment'ſt thy ſelf,
And theſe dread Curſes like the Sun? gainſt Glaſs,
Or like an overcharg'd Gun, recoil,
And turns the force of them upon thy ſelf.*

*Suff.* You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave ?

*Now by the ground that I am banifhed'ſt from,*

*Well could I Curſe away a Winters Night,*
*Though ſtanding naked on a Mountain top,*
*Wherebiting Cold would never let Grafs grow,*
*And think it but a minute ſpent in ſport.*

*Queen. Oh, let me intreat thee ceaſe, give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournful Tears ;
Nor let the Rain of Heaven wet this pace,
To walh away my woful Monuments.*

*Oh, could this kifs be printed in thy Hand,
That thou might'ſt think upon theſe by the Seal,
Through whom a thouſand ſights are breath'd for thee.*

*So get thee gone, that I may know my griſt,*

*'Tis but ſurmiſ'd while'ſt thou art ſtanding by,*

*As one that Surſeits, thinking on a want :*

*I will repeal thee, or be well affur'd,*

*Adventure to be banifhed my ſelf :*

*And banifhed I am, if but from thee.*

*Go, ſpeak not to me ; even now be gone,*

*Oh go not yet. Even thus, two Friends Condemn'd
Embrace, and kifs, and take ten thouſand leaves,
Loather a hundred times to part than dye ;
Yet now farewell, and farewell Life with thee.*

*Suff.* Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banifhed,
Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.*

*'Tis not the Land I care for, wer't thou hence,
A Wilderneſs is populous enough,*
*So Suffolk, had thy heavenly Company,*

*For where thou art, there is the World it ſelf,*

*With every ſeveral Pleasure in the World :*

*And where thou art not, Defolation.*

*I can no more: Live thou to joy thy Life ;
My ſelf no Joy in ought, but that thou liv'ſt.*

*Enter Vaux.*

*Queen. Whither goes Vaux so faſt ? what News, I
prithée ?*

*Vaux. To ſigniſe unto his Maſejſt,
That Cardinal Beauford is at the point of death :*

*For suddenly a grievous ſickneſs took him,*

*That makes him gafſ, and ſtare, and catch the Air,*
*Blapheming God, and Curling Men on Earth.*

*Sometimes he talks, as if Duke Humphrey's Ghoſt*

*Were by his ſide : ſometimes he calls the King,
And whifpers to his Pillow, as to him,*

*The ſecrets of his over-charged Soul,*

*And I am ſent to tell his Maſejſt,*

*That even now he cries aloud for him.*

*Queen. Go tell this heavy Miffage to the King.*

*[Exit.]*
*Ay me! What is this World ? What news are theſe ?*

*But wherefore grieve I at an hours poor loſs,*
*Omitting Suffolk's Exile, my Soul's Treſure ?*

*Why only Suffolk mourn I not for thee ?*

*And with the Southern clouds, contend in tears ?*

*Theirs for the Earths increaſe; mine for my Sorrows.*

*Now get thee hence, the King thou know'ſt is coming,
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.*

*Suff. If I depart from thee, I cannot live,
And in thy fight to dye, what were it elfe,
But like a pleafant lumber in thy lap ?*

*Here could I breathe my ſoul into the Air,
As mild and genile, as the Cradle-babe,*

*Dying with Mother's Dug between its lips.*

*Where from thy fight, I should be raging mad :
And cry out for thee to cloſe up mine Eyes :*

*To have thee with thy Lips to ſtop my Mouth :*

*So ſhould'ſt either turn my flying Soul,*

*Or I ſhould breathe it ſo into thy Body,*

*And then it lives in ſweet Elysium.*

*To dye by thee, were but to dye in jeſt,*

*From thee to dye, were torture more than death ;
Oh let me ſlay, beſal what may beſal.*

*Queen. Aſway : though parting be a ſretful Corſoſive,
It is applied to a deathful wound.*

*To France ſweet Suffolk: Let me hear from thee :*

*For whereforever thou art in this VWorld's Globe,*

*Ple have an Iris that ſhall find thee out.*

*Suff. I go.*

*Queen. And take my heart with thee.*

*Suff. A Jewel lock'd into the woful'ſt Cask,*

*That ever did contain a thing of worth,*

*Even as a ſplitted Bark, ſo ſunder we :*

*This way fall I to death.*

*Queen. This way for me.*

[Exeunt.]

*Enter the King, Salisbury, and VVarwick, to the Cardinal in Bed.*

*King. How fares my Lord ? Speak Beauford to thy
Soveraign.*

*Car. If thou beſt Death I'le give thee Englands Treſure,*

*Enough to purchase ſuch another Inland,*

*So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.*

*King. Ah, what a ſign it is of Evil Life,*

*VWhere Death's approach is ſeen ſo terrible,*

*War. Beauford, it is thy Soveraign ſpeaks to thee.*

*Beau. Bring me unto my Tryal when you will.*

*Dy'd he not in his Bed ? Where ſhould he dye ?*

*Can I make Men live where they will no ?*

*Oh torture me no more, I will confefs.*

*Alive again? Then ſhew me where he is.*

*I'le give a thouſand pound to look upon him,*

*He hath no Eyes, the Duſt hath blinded them :*

*Combe down his hair, look, look, it flands upright,*

*Like Lime-twigs ſet to catch my winged Soul :*

*Give me ſome drink, and bid the Apothecary

Oo 2

Bring

["The Second part of King Henry the Sixth.", "148", "Bring the strong poyson that I bought of him.", "King. O thou eternal Mover of the Heavens,", "Look with a gentle Eye upon this Wretch,", "Oh beat away the bufie medling Fiend,", "That lays strong Siege unto this Wretch's Soul,", "And from his Bofom purge this black defpair.", "War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin.", "Sal. Difturb him not, let him paſs peaceably.", "King. Peace to his Soul, if God's good pleasure be.", "Lord Cardnal, if thou think't on Heavens bliſ,", "Hold up thy Hand, make ſignal of thy hope.", "He dies, and makes no Sign : Oh God forgive him.", "War. Sob ad Death argues a monſtrous Life.", "King. Forbear to judge, for we are tinders all.", "Cloſe up his Eyes, and draw the Curtain cloſe,", "And let us all to Meditation.", "[Exeunt.", "Alarum. Fight at Sea. Ordnance goes off.", "Enter Lieutenant, Suffolk, and others.", "Lieu. The gaudy blabbing and remorſeful day,", "Is crept into the boſom of the Sea :", "And now loud howling Wolves arouſe the Jades", "That drag the Tragick melancholy night :", "Who with their drowſe, flow, and flagging wings", "Cleap dead mens Graves; and from their mifty Jaws,", "Breath foul contagious darkneſs in the Air :", "Therefore bring forth Souldiers of our prize,", "For whil'th our Pinnace Anchors in the Downs,", "Here ſhall they make their Ranſom on the Sand,", "Or with their Blood ſtain this difcoloured ſhore.", "Mafter, this Prifoner freely give I thee.", "And thou that art his Mate, make Boot of this :", "The other Walter Whitmore is thy ſhare.", "1. Gent. What is my Ranſom, Mafter, let me know.", "Ma. A thouſand Crowns, or elfe lay down your Head.", "Mate. And ſo much ſhall you give, or off goes yours.", "Lieu. What think you much to pay 2000 Crowns,", "And bear the name and port of Gentlemen :", "Cut both the Villains Throats, for dye you ſhall :", "The lives of thofe which we have loft in fight,", "Be counter-pois'd with ſuch a petty Sum.", "1. Gent. Ple give it, Sir, and therefore ſpare my life.", "2. Gent. And fo will I, and write home for it ſtraight.", "Whitm. I loft mine Eye in laying the prize aboard,", "And therefore to revenge it, ſhalt you die,", "And ſo should theſe, if I might have my Will.", "Lieu. Be not ſo rafh, take Ranſom, let him live.", "Suff. Look on my George, I am a Gentleman,", "Rate me at what thou wilt, thou ſhalt be paid.", "Whit. And fo am I: my name is Walter Whitmore,", "How now ? why ſtart'th ou t what doth death affright ?", "Suff. Thy name affrights me, in whoſe found is Death :", "A Cunning-man did calculate my Birth,", "And told me, that by Water I ſhould die :", "Yet let not this make thee be Bloody-minded,", "Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly founded.", "Whit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is I care not,", "Never yet did bafe diſhonour blur our name,", "But with our Sword we wip'd away the blot.", "Therefore, when Merchant-like I ſell revenge,", "Broke be my Sword, my Arms torn and deſac'd,", "And I proclaim'd a Coward through the World.", "Suff. Stay Whitmore, for thy Prifoner is a Prince,", "The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.", "Whit. The Duke of Suffolk, mufſed up in Rags ?", "Suff. I, but theſe rags are no part of the Duke.", "Lieu. But ſove was never ſlain as thou ſhalt be,", "Obſcure and lowſie Swain, King Henry's Blood.", "Suff. The Honourable Blood of Lancafter", "Mauſt not be ſhed by ſuch a jaded Groom :", "Haſt thou not kiſt thy Hand, and held my Stirrop ?", "Bare-headed plodded by my Foot-cloth Mule,", "And thought thee/happy when I ſhook my Head.", "How often haſt thou waited at my Cup,", "Fed from my Trencher, kneeled down at the Board,\nWhen I have feasted with Queen Margaret ?", "Remember it, and let it make thee Grett-faln,", "I, and allay this thy abortive Pride :", "How in our voiding Lobby haſt thou flood,", "And duly waited for my coming forth ?", "This Hand of thine hath writ in thy behalf,", "And therefore haſt it charm thy rjotous Tongue.", "Whit. Speak Captain, ſhall I ſtab the ferlorn Swain?", "Lieu. First let my words ſtab him, as he hath me.", "Suff. Bare Slave, thy words are blunt, and ſo art thou", "Lieu. Convey him hence, and on our Long-boats flie.", "Strike off his Head.", "Suff. Thou dar't not for thy self", "Lien, Poole, Sir Poole ? Lord ?", "I kennel, puddle, ſink, whoſe filth and dirt", "Troubles the Silver Spring, where England drinks:", "Now will I dam up this thy yawning Mouth,", "For swallowing up the Treasure of the Realm.", "Thy Lips that kiſt the Queen, ſhall sweep the Ground:", "And thou that ſmild'ſt at good Humphrey's Death,", "Againſt the ſenſeleſs Winds ſhal构成 in vain,", "Who in contempt ſhall hſis at thee again.", "And wedded to thee then to the Hags of Hell,", "For daring to affye a mighty Lord", "Unto the Daughter of a worthleſs King,", "Having neither Subject, Wealth, nor Diadēm:", "By devilih policy art thou grown great,", "And like ambitious Sylla over-gor'd,", "With gobbets of thy Mother-bleeding Heart.", "By thee Anjou and Main were ſold to France.", "The falſe revolting Normans through thee,", "Difſain to call us Lord, and Picardie", "Hath ſtian their Governors, forpriz'd our Forts,", "And ſent the ragged Souldiers wounded home :", "The Princely Warwick, and the Neils all,", "Whoſe dreadful Swords were never drawn in vain,", "As hating thee, and riling up in Arms,", "And now the Houſe of Tork thrust from the Crown,", "By ſhameful murther of a guileſſe King,", "And lofty proud incoaching tyranny,", "Burns with revenging Fire, whoſe hopeſful colouſ", "Advance our half-ſac'd Sun, striving to ſhine;", "Under the which is writ, Iwitis nnnnbus.", "The Commons here in Kent are up in Arms,", "And to conclude, Reproach and Beggery,", "Is crept into the Palace of our King,", "And all by thee: away, convey him hence.", {"bbox": [695, 955, 1016, 974], "category": "Text

149

True Nobility is exempt from fear :

More can I bear, than you dare execute.

Liev. Hale him away, and let him talk no more :

Come Souldiers, shew what Cruelty ye can.

Suff. That this my Death may never be forgot.

Great Men oft dye by vile Bezonians.

A Roman Sworder, and Bandetto Slave

Murder'd fweet July. Brutus Baftard hand

Stab'd Julius Caffar. Savage Iflanders

Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by Pyrats.

[Exit Walter with Suffolk.

Lieu. And as for these whose ranfome we have let,
It isour pleafure one of them depart :
Therefore come you with us, and let him go.

[Exit Lieutenant and the reft.

Manet the first Gent. Enter Walter with the Body.

Wal. There let his Head, and liveleſs Body lie.

Until the Queen his Miltrieſs bury it.

[Exit Walter.

1 Gent. O barbarous and bloody ſpectacle !

His Body will I bear unto the King :

If he revenge it not, yet will his Friends,

So will the Queen, that living held him dear.

[Exit.

Enter Bevis, and John Holland.

Bevis. Come and get thee a Sword, though made of a
Lath, they have been up theſe two days.

Holl. They have the more need to ſleep now then.

Bevis. I tell thee, Jack Cade the Clothier means to
dref the Common-wealth, and turn it, and fet a new
Nap upon it.

Holl. So he had need, 'tis thred-bare. Well, I fay,
it was it never a merry World in England, ſince Gentlemen came up.

Bevis. O miſerable Age : Vertue is not regarded in
Handy-crafts men.

Holl. The Nobility think ſcorn to go in Leather Aprons.

Bevis. Nay more, the Kings Council are no good
Workmen.

Holl. True: and yet it is ſaid, Labour in thy Vocati-
ou: which is as much as to ſay, let the Magiſtrates be la-
bouring men, and therefore ſhould we be Magiſtrates.

Bevis. Thou haſt hit it: for there's no better ſign of
a brave Mind, than a hard Hand.

Holl. I fee them, I fee them: There's Bef't's Son, the
Tanner of Wingham.

Bevis. He ſhall have the Skins of our Enemies, to
make Dogs Leather of.

Holl. And Dick the Butcher.

Bevis. Then is Sin ſtruck down like an Ox, and Ini-
quities Throat cut like a Calf.

Holl. And Smith the Weaver.

Bevis. Argo, their thred of Life is ſpun.

Holl. Come, come, lets fall in with them.

Drum, Enter Cade, Dick Butcher, Smith the Weaver, and
a Sawyer, with infinite numbers.

Cade. We John Cade, so term'd of our ſuppofed Father.

But. Or rather of ſleeting a Cade of Herrings.

Cade. For our Enemies ſhall fall before us, infipired
with the Spirit of putting down Kings and Princes. Com-
mand Silence.

But. Silence.

Cade. My Father was a Mortimer.

But. He was an honest Man, and a good Bricklayer.

Cade. My Mother a Plantagenet.

But. I knew her well, ſhe was a Midwife.

Cade. My Wife defended of the Lacies.

But. She was indeed a Pedlers Daughter, and ſold ma-
ny Laces.

Weaver. But now of late, not able to travel with her
furr'd Pack, ſhe waſhes Bucks here at home.

Cade. Therefore am I of an Honourable houſe.

But. I by my Faith the Field is Honourable, and there
was he born, under a Hedg: for his Father had never a
Houſe but a Cage.

Cade. Valiant I am.

Weaver. A muſt needs, for Beggery is valiant.

Cade. I am able to endure much.

But. No queſtion of that: for I have ſeen him whipt
three Market days together.

Cade. I fear neither Sword nor Fire.

Weav. He need not fear the Sword, for his Coat is of
proof.

But. But methinks he ſhould ſtand in fear of Fire, be-
ing burnt i'th hand for ſlealing of Sheep.

Cade. Be brave then, for your Captain is brave, and
vows Reformation. There ſhall be in England ſeven
half penny Loaves ſold for a penny: the three hoop'd pot
ſhall have ten hoops, and will make it Felony to drink
ſmall Beer. All the Realm ſhall be in Common, and in
Cheap-side ſhall my Palfrey go to Graſs: and when I am
King, as King I will be.

All. God fave your Majcely.

Cade. I thank you good People. There ſhall be no
Money, all ſhall eat and drink upon my Score, and I will
apparrel them all in one Livery, that they may agree like
Brothers, and worſhip me their Lord.

But. The firſt thing we do, lets kill all the Lawyers.

Cade. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamen-
table thing, that the Skin of an innocent Lamb ſhould
be made Parchment; that Parchment being ſcribled o're,
ſhould undo a Man. Some ſay the Bee ſings, but I fay,
'tis Bees wax: for I did but Seal once to a thing, and I was
never my own man ſince. How now ? Who's there?

Enter a Clerk.

Weav. The Clerk of Chattam; he can Write and Read,
and caſt Accompt.

Cade. O monſtrous !

Weav. We took him fetting Boys Copies.

Cade. Here's a Villain.

Weav. Ha's a Book in his Pocket with red Letters in't.

Cade. Nay then he is a Conjurer.

But. Nay, he can make Obligations, and write Cour-
hand.

Cade. I am forry for't: The Man is a proper Man of
mine Honour: unless I find him Guilty, he ſhall not die.
Come hither, Sirrah, I muſt examine thee: What is thy
Name ?

Clerk. Emmanuel.

But. They uſe to write it on the top of Letters : 'Twill
go hard with you.

Cade. Let me alone: Do't thou uſe to write thy Name?
Or haſt thou a mark to thy ſelf, like an honest plain
dealing man ?

Clerk. Sir, I thank God, I have been ſo well brought up,
that I can write my Name.

All. He hath confect, away with him: he is a Villain
and a Traytor.

Cade. Away with him, I fay: Hang him with his Pen
and Ink-horn about his Neck.

[Exit one with the Clerk.

Enter Michael.

Mich. Where is our General?

Cade. Here I am, thou particular Fellow.

Mich. Fly, fly, fly, Sir Humphrey Stafford and his Brother
are hard by, with the Kings Forces.

Cade. Stand Villain, ſtand or I'le fell thee down: he
ſhall be enſoureted with a Man as good as himself. He
is but a Knight, is a ?

Mich. No.

Cade. To equal him I will make my ſelf a Knight pre-
fently; Rife up, Sir John Mortimer. Now have at him.

003

Enter

150

Enter Sir Humphrey Stafford and his Brother, with Drum and Souldiers.

Staf. Rebelrous Hinds, the filth and fcum of Kent,
Mark'd for the Gallows; lay your Weapons down,
Home to your Cottages: forfake this Groom.

The King is merciful if you revolt.

Bro. But angry, wrathful, and inclin'd to Blood,
If you go forward; therefore yield or die.

Cade. As for thefe Silken-coated Slaves I paſs not,
It is to you good People, that I ſpeak,
Over whom (in time to come) I hope to reign:
For I am rightful Heir unto the Crown.

Staf. Villain, thy Father was a Plaifterer,
And thou thy ſelf a Shearman, art thou not?

Cade. And Adam was a Gardimer.

Bro. And what of that?

Cade. Marry, this Edmond Mortimer Earl of March,
married the Duke of Clarence's Daughter, did he not?

Stafford, I Sir.

Cade. By her he had two Children at one birth,

Bro. That's falſe.

Cade. I, there's the Queſtion; but I ſay, 'tis true:
The elder of them being put to Nurſe,
Was by a Beggar-woman itoln away,
And ignorant of his Birth and Parentage,
Became a Bricklayer, when he came to age.
His Son am I, deny it if you can.

But. Nay, 'tis too true, therefore he ſhall be King.

Weav. Sir, he made a Chimny in my Fathers Houſe,
and the Bricks are alive at this day to teſtify it: therefore
deny it not.

Staf. And will you credit this bafe Drudges words, that ſpeaks he knows not what?

All. I marry will we, therefore get you gone.

Bro. Jack Cade, the D. of York, hath taught you this.

Cade. He lies, for I invented it my ſelf. Go too, Sir-
rah, tell the King from me: That for his Fathers ſake Hen-
ry the Fifth, (in whose time Boys went to Span-counter
for French Crowns) I am content he ſhall Reign, but Ile
be Proteſtor over him.

But. And further more we'll have the Lord Says Head,
for ſelling the Dukedom of Main.

Cade. And good reaon: for thereby is England main'd,
and fain to go with a Staff, but that my puſſance holds
it up; Fellow-Kings, I tell you, that Lord Say hath
gelded the Commonwealth, and made it an Eunuch: and
more than that, he can ſpeak French, and therefore he is
a Traitor.

Staff. O groſs and miſerable ignorance.

Cade. Nay, anſwer if you can: the Frenchmen are
our Enemies: go too then: I ask but this, Can he that
ſpeaks with the Tongue of an Enemy, be a good Councillor,
or no?

All. No, no, and therefore we'll have his Head.

Bro. Well, ſeeing gentle words will not prevail,
Affayl them with the Army of the King.

Staf. Herald away, and throughout every Town,
Proclaim them Traitors that are up with Cade,
That thofe which flye before the Battel ends,
May even in their Wives and Childrens fight,
Be hang'd up for Example at their Doors:

And you that be the Kings Friends follow me. [Exit.

Cade. And you that love the Commons follow me:
Now ſhew your ſelves Men, 'tis for Liberty.
We'll not leave one Lord, one Gentleman:
Spare none, but ſuch as go in clouded Shoons
For they are thrifty honest Men, and ſuch
As would (but that they dare not) take our parts.

But. They are all in order, and march towards us.

Cade. But then are we in order, when we are moſt out
of order. Come march forward.

Alarum to the fight, wherein both the Staffords are flay.
Enter Cade and the reſt.

Cade. Where's Dick, the Butcher of Alſhugh?

But. Here Sir.

Cade. They fell before thee like Sheep and Oxen, and
thou behaved ſt thy ſelf, as if thou hadt been in this
own Slaughter-houſe: Therefore thus I will reward the
Lent ſhall be as long again as it is, and thou ſhalt have
a Liceſe to kill for a hundred lacking one.

But. I defire no more.

Cade. And to ſpeak truth, thou deferv't no leſs.
This Monument of the Victory will I bear, and the Bo-
dies ſhall be drag'd at my Horſes heels, till I do come
to London, where we will have the Mayor's Sword born be-
fore us.

But. If we mean to thrive, and do good, break open
the Goals, and let out the Prifoners.

Cade. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come lets me
[Enter] towards London.

Enter the King with a Supplication, and the Queen with
folks Head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Say.

Queen. Oft have I heard that Grief softens the Mind,
And makes it fearful and degenerate,
Think therefore on revenge, and ceaſe to weep.
But who can ceaſe to weep, and look on this,
Here may his Head lye throbbing on my Breſt:
But where's the Body that I ſhould imbrace?

Buck. What anſwer makes your Grace to the King
Supplication?

King. Ple ſend fome Holy Bifhop to intreat:
For God forbid, ſo many ſimple Souls
Should perſh by the Sword. And I my ſelf,
Rather than bloody War ſhall cut them ſhort,
Will parly with Jack Cade their General.
But ſtay, Ple read it over once again.

Queen. Ah barbarous Villains: Hath this lovely Fax,
Rul'd like a wandring Planet over me,
And could it not inſorce them to relent,
That were unworthy to behold the fame?

King. Lord Say, Jack Cade hath ſworn to have thy Head.

Say. I, but I hope his Highneſs ſhall have his.

King. How now Madam?

Still lamenting and mourning for ſuffolk's death?

I fear me (Love) if that I had been dead,

Thou would't not half have mourn'd ſo much for me.

Qu. No, my Love, I ſhould not mourn, but dye for thee.

Enter a Meſſenger.

King. How now? What news? Why comſt thou in
fuch haſt?

Nef. The Rebels are in Southwark: Flie my Lord;
Jack Cade proclaims himſelf Lord Mortimer,
Defended from the Duke of Clarence's Houſe,
And calls your Grace Uſurper openly,
And vows to Crown himſelf in Westminſter.
His Army is a ragged multitude
Of Hinds and Peafants, rude and mercileſs:
Sir Humphrey Stafford, and his Brothers death,
Hath given them heart and courage to proceed:
All Scholars, Lawyers, Counſiers, Gentlemen,

They call falſe Caterpillars, and intend their death.

King. O graceleſs Men: they know not what they do.
Buck. My gracious Lord, retire to Killingworth,
Until a power be raiſ'd to put them down.

Queen. Ah ! were the Duke of ſuffolk now alive,
Theſe Kentiſh Rebels ſhould be ſoon appeaſ'd.

King. Lord Say, the Traitors hate thee,
Therefore away with us to Killingworth.

Say. So might your Graces perſon be in danger: The

152

Hath made me full of Sickneſs and Difeaſes.

Cade. Ye ſhall have a hempen Caudle then, and the help of a Hatchet.

Die. Why do't thou quiver, man ?

Say. The Palfie, and not Fear provokes me.

Cade. Nay, he nodds at us, as who ſhould ſay, I'le be even with you. I'le fee if his Head will ſtand ſtready on a Pole, or no: Take him away, and behead him.

Say. Tell me: wherein have I offended moſt ?
Have I affected Wealth or Honour ? Speak.
Are my Cheſts ſiſd up with extorted Gold ?
Is my Apparel Sumptuous to behold ?

Whom have I injur'd, that ye fee k my Death ?
These hands are free from guiltles blood-fledding.
This Breaſt from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.

O let me live.

Cade. I feel remorſe in my ſelf with his words: but Ple bridle it: he ſhall dye, and be it but for pleading, ſo well for his Life. Away with him, he ha's a Familiar under his Tongue, he ſpeaks not a Gods Name. Go, take him away I ſay, and ſtrike off his Head preſently, and then break into his Son in Laws Houſe, Sir James Cromer, and ſtrike off his Head, and bring them both upon two Poles hither.

All. It ſhall be done.

Say. Ah Country-men; if when you make your Pray'rs, God ſhould be ſo obdurate as your ſelves:
How would it fare with your departed Souls ?
And therefore yet relent, and ſave my Life.

Cade. Away with him, and do as I command ye: the proude ſ Peer of the Realm ſhall not wear a Head on his Shoulders, unleſs he pay me tribute: there ſhall not a Maid be married, but ſhe ſhall pay me her Maiden-head ere they have it: Men ſhall hold of me in Capite. And we Charge and Command, that their Wives be as free as Heart can with, or Tongue can tell.

DICK. My Lord,

When ſhall we go to Cheapſide, and take up Commodities upon our Bills?

Cade. Marry preſently.

All. O brave.

Enter one with the Heads.

Cade. But is not this brave :

Let them kifſ one another: For they lov'd well When they were alive. Now part them again, Left they consult about the giving up Of ſome more Towns in France. Souldiurs, Defer the ſpoil of the City until Night; For with theſe borne before us, inſtead of Maces, We will ride through the Streets, at every Corner Have them kifſs. Away.

[Exit]

Alarum, and Retreat. Enter again Cade, and all his Rabblement.

Cade. Up Fift-y-free, down Saint Magnes Corner, kill and knock down, throw them into Thames.

Sound a Parley.

What noife is this I hear ?

Dare any be ſo bold to found Retreat or Parley,
When I command them kill ?

Enter Buckingham, and old Clifford.

Buck. I here they be that dare and will diſturb thee: Know, Cade, we come Ambaſſadors from the King Unto the Commons, whom thou haſt miſed, And here pronounce free Pardon to them all, That will forſake thee, and go home in peace.

Clif. What ſay ye, Countrymen, will ye relent And yield to Mercy, whil'ſt 'tis offered you, Or let a Rabble lead you to your Deaths. Who loves the King, and will imbrace his Pardon, Fling up his Cap, and ſay, God ſave his Majefty; Who hateth him, and honours not his Father,

Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,
Shake he his Weapon at us, and paſs by.

All. God ſave the King, God ſave the King.

Cade. What Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so braver
And you bafe Pezants, do ye believe him, will you need
be hang'd with your Pardons about your Necks? Ha! my Sword therefore broke through London gates, that you ſhould leave me at the White-hart in Southmark, I thought ye would never have given out thefe Arms, that you had recovered your ancient Freedom: but you are all Recreants and Daſtards, and delight to live in ſlavery to the Nobility. Let them break your backs with breaſons, take your Houſes over your Heads, ravish your Wives and Daughters before your Faces. For me, I will make thift for one, and ſo Gods Curſe light upon you all.

All. We'll follow Cade.

We'll follow Cade.

Clif. Is Cade the Son of Henry the Fifth,
That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him.
Will he Conduct you through the heart of France,
And make the meaneſt of you Earls and Dukes?

Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to:
Nor knows he how to live, but by the Spoyle.
Unleſs by robbing of your Friends, and us.
Wer't not a name, that whil'ſt you live at jar,
The fearful French, whom you late vanquifhed
Should make a ſtart o're the Seas, and vanquifh you?
Methinks already in this civil broyle,
I fee them Lording it in London ſtreets,
Crying Villiago unto all they meet.
Better ten thouſand bafe-born Cades miſcarry,
Than you ſhould ſloop unto a French-mans Merſe.
To France, to France, and get what you have loſt;
Spare England, for it is your Native Coaſt:
Henry hath Mony, you are ſtrong and manly:
God on our fide, doubt not of Victory.

All. A Clifford, a Clifford,

We'll follow the King and Clifford.

Cade. Was ever Feather ſo lightly blown to and
as this multitudine? The name of Henry the Fifth, hales that
to an hundred miſchiefs, and makes them leave me no
folate. I fee them lay their Heads together to ſurpris me.
My Sword make way for me, for here is no flaying
in deſpight of the Devils and Hell, have through the very
midft of you, and Heavens and honour be winneſs, that
no want of Reſoluion in me, but only my Follow
bafe and ignominious Treafons make me betake me to my
Heels.

[Exeunt]

Buck. What, is he ſled ? Go ſome and follow him.
And he that brings me to the King,
Shall have a thouſand Crowns for his reward.

[Exeunt ſome of them]

Follow me Souldiurs, we'll deviſe a mean,
To reconcile you all unto the King.

[Exeunt another]

Sound Trumpets. Enter King, Queen, and Somerſet an
Tarras.

King. Was ever King that joy'd an Earthly Throſt,
And could command no more Content than I?
No ſooner was I crept out of my Cradle,
But I was made a King at nine months old:
Was never ſubject long to be a King,
As I do long and wiſh to be a Subject.

Enter Buckingham and Clifford.

Buck. Health and glad tydings to your Majefty.

King. Why Buckingham, is the Traytor Cade surprinſ'd?
Or is he but retir'd to make him ſtrong.

Enter Multitudes with Halters about their Necks.

Clif. He is ſled my Lord, and all his powers do yield,
And

And humbly thus with halters on their necks,
Expect your Highnefs doom of Life or Death.

King. Then Heaven fet ope thy everlafting gates,
To entertain my Vows of Thanks and Praife,
Souldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,
And fiew'd how well you love your Prince and Country:
Continue ſtill in this ſo good a mind.
And Henry though he be unfortunate,
Affaire your ſelves will never be unkind:
And ſo with thanks and pardon to you all,
do difmifs you to your several Countries.

All, God save the King, God save the King.

Enter a Moſinger.

Mef. Please it your Grace to be advertifed,
The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland,
And with a puſſant and mighty Power
Of Gallow-glaſſes and ſtout Kernes,
is marching hitherward in proud array
And fill proclaimmeth as he comes along,
his Armies are only to remove from thee
The Duke of Somerſet, whom he termes a Traitor.

King. Thus ſtands my State, 'twixt Cade and York
difſtrefl;

Like to a Ship, that having ſcap'd a Tempeſt,
is straightway calm'd and boarded with a Pyrate.
But now is Cade driven back, his men diſpſ'd,
And now is York in Arms to ſecond him.

I pray thee Buckingham go and meet him,
And ask him what's the Reafon of theſe Arms:
Tell him, I'le ſend Duke Edmund to the Tower,
And Somerſet, we will commit thee thither,
Untill his Army be diſmift from him.

Somer. My Lord,

Ile yield my ſelf to prifon willingly,
Or unto Death, to do my Country good.

King. In any case, be not too rough in terms,
For he is fierce and cannot brook hard Language.
Back, I will, my Lord, and doubt not ſo to deal,
As all things ſhall redound unto your good.

King. Come Wife, let's in, and learn to govern better,
For yet may England curſe my wretched reign. [Exeunt.

Enter Jack Cade.

Cade. Fie on Ambition: fie on my ſelſe, that haue a
Sword, and yet am ready to famiſh These ſive dayes have
I hid me in theſe Woods, and durſt not peep out, for all
the Country is laid for me: But now am I hungry, that
if I might have a leafe of my life for a thouſand years,
I could ſlay no longer. Wherefore on a Brick wall have
I climb'd into this Garden, to fee if I can eat Graſs, or
pick a Sallet another while, which is not amiſs to cool
a mans ſtōack this hot weather: and I think this word
Sallet, was born to do me good; for many a time but for
a Sallet, my Brain-pan had been cleft with a brown Bill;
and many a time when I have been dry, and bravely mar-
ch-ing, it hath ſerv'd me in ſtead of a quart pot to drink
in: and now the word Sallet, muſt ſerve me to feed on.

Enter Iden.

Iden. Lord, who would live turmoyled in the Court,
And may enjoy ſuch quiet walks as theſe,
This ſmall inheritance my Father left me,
Contenteth me, and worth a Monarchy.

I feek not to wax great by others warning,
Or gather wealth I care not with what envy:
Sufficeth, that I have maintains my State,
And ſends the Poor well pleafed from my Gate.

Cade. Here's the Lord of the Soil come to ſeize me
for a ſtray, for entring his Fee-fimple without leave. Ah
Villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a 1000 Crowns

of the King, by carrying my head to him, but I'le make
thee eat Iron like an Oftridge, and fwallow my Sword
like a great pin, e're thou and I part.

Iden. Why rude Companion, whatſoe're thou be,
I know thee not, why then ſhould I betray thee?
Is't not enough to break into my Garden,
And like a Thieſe, to come to rob my Grounds:
Climbing my Walls in ſpight of nie the Owner,
But thou wilt fare me with theſe fawcie termes?

Cade. Bravethee ? I, by the beſt blood that ever was
broach'd, and beard thee too. Look on me well I have
eat no meat theſe five dayes, yet come thou and thy ſive
men, and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door nail,
I pray God I may never eat graſs more.

Iden. Nay, it ſhall ne're be ſaid, while England ſlands,
That Alexander Iden an Efquire of Kent,

Took odds to combate a poor famiſh'd man.

Oppofe thy ſtedaſt gazing eyes to mine,

See it thou canſt out-face me with thy looks :

Set Limb to Limb, and thou art far the leſſer :

Thy hand is but a finger to my ſift,

Thy Leg a ſlick compared with this Truncheon,

My Foot ſhall fight with all the ſtrength thou haſt,

And if mine Arm be heaved in the Air,

Thy Grave is digg'd already in the Earth :

As for words, whoſe greatneſs anſwers words,

Let this my Sword report what ſpeech forbears.

Cade. By my valour: the moſt compleat Champion
that ever I heard. Steel, if thou turn thine edge, or cut
not out the burly bon'd Clown in chines of Beef, e're
thou lieep in thy Sheath, I beſeech Jove on my knees
thou may't be turned to Hobnails.

Here they Fight.

O I am flain, Famine and no other hath flain me, let ten
thouſand Devils come againſt me, and give me but the
ten meals I have loſt, and I'de defye them all. Wither
Garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do
dwell in this houſe, becauſe the unconquered foul of
Cade is ſled.

Iden. Is't Cade that I have flain, that monſtruous Traitor ?
Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed.

And hang thee o're my Tomb when I am Dead.

Ne're ſhall this Blood be wiped from thy Point,

But thou halt wear it as a Heralds Coat,

To emblaze the Honour thy Maſter got.

Cade. Iden farewell, and be proud of thy victory: Tell
Kent from me, the hath loſt her beſt man, and exhort all
the World to be Cowards: for I that never feared any
am vanquifhed by Famine, not by Valour. [Dies.

Id. How much thou wrong'ſt me, Heaven be my Judge ;
Die damned Wretch, the curſe of her that bare thee :
And as I thrust thy Body in with my Sword,
So with I, I might thrust thy Soul to Hell.

Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
Unto a Dunghill, which shall be thy Grave,

And there cut of thy moſt ungracious Head,

Which I will bear in Triumph to the King,

Leaving thy Trunk for Crows to feed upon.

[Exit.]

Enter York, and his Army of Irifh, with
Drum and Colours.

York. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his Right,
And pluck the Crown from feeble Henry's head.
Ring Bells aloud, burn Bonfires clear and bright,
To entertain great Englands lawfull King.

Ah ſanſta Majeſtas: who would not buy thee dear ?

Let them obey that knows not how to Rule.

This hand was made to handle nought but Gold.

I cannot give due action to my words,

Except a Sword or Scepter ballance it.

A Scepter ſhall it have, have I a Soul,

On which I'le toſs the Floure-de-Luce of France.

Enter

Hath made the Wizard famous in his Death :
Sword, hold thy temper ; Heart, be wrathful still :
Priefts pray for Enemies, but Princes kill.

Fight.

Excursions.

Enter King, Queen, and others.

Qu. Away my Lord, you are flow, for flame away.
King. Can we out-run the Heavens ? Good Margaret
ftay.

Qu. What are you made of ? You'l not fight nor flye :
Now is it Manhood, Wisdom, and Defence,
To give the Enemy way, and to secure us
But what we can, which can no more but flye.

[Alarum afar off.]
If you be tane, we then should fee the bottom
Of all our Fortunes: but if we haply fcape,
(As well we may, if not through your neglect)
We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,
And where this breach now in our Fortunes made
May readily be ftopt.

Enter Clifford.

Clif. But that my Hearts on future miſchief ſct,
I would ſpeak Blaſphemy e're bid you ſlye:
But flye you muſt: Uncureable diſcomſte
Reigns in the hearts of all our preſent parts.
Away for your relief, and we will live
To fee their Day, and then our Fortune give.
Away my Lord, away.

[Exeunt.]

Alarum. Retreat. Enter York, Richard, Warwick, and Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.

Tork. Of Salisbury, who can report of him,

That Winter Lyon, who in Rage forgets
Aged Contusions, and all bruſh off time :
And like a Gallant in the brow of Youth,
Repairs him with occasion. This happy day
Is not it ſelf, nor have we won one Foot,
if Salisbury be loft.

Rich. My Noble Father :

Three times to day I hope him to his Horfe,
Three times beftri'd him: Thrice I led him off,
Perſwaded him from any further Act:
But ſtill where danger was, ſtill there I met him,
And like rich Hangings in an homely Houſe,
So was his VVill in his Old feeble Body.
But Noble as he is, look where he comes.

Enter Salisbury.

Sal. Now, by my Sword, well haſt thou fought to day,
By th' Maſs I did we all. I thank you Richard,
God knows how long it is I have to live:
And it hath pleas'd him that three times to day
You have defended me from Eminent Death.
VVell Lords, we have not got that which we have,
'Tis not enough our Foes are this time fled,
Being oppoſites of ſuch repairing Nature.

Tork. I know our safety is to follow them,
For (as I hear) the King is fled to London,
To call a preſent Court of Parliament.
Let us purſue him e're the VVrits go forth.
What ſays Lord Warwick, ſhall we after them?

War. After them ! nay, before them, if we can:
Now by my hand (Lords) 'twas a glorious day.
Saint Albans battel won by famous Tork,
Shall we be eterniz'd in all Age to come.
Sound Drum and Trumpets, and to London all,
And more ſuch days as theſe to us befall.

[Exeunt.]

THE

The third Part of King Henry the Sixth.

Rather than made that savage Duke thine Heir,
And dif-inherited thine only Son.

Prin. Father, you cannot dif-inherit me :

If you be King, why should not I fucceed ?

Hen. Pardon me, Margaret, pardon me, sweet Son,
The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforc'd me.

Queen. Enforc'd thee ? art thou King, and wilt be forc'd?
I hame to hear the ye speak : ah timorous Wretch,
Thou haft undone thy felf, thy Son, and me,
And given unto the Houfe of York, inch head,
As thou fhalt Reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his Heirs unto the Crown,
What is it, but to make thy Sepulchre,
And creep into it far before thy time ?

Warwick is Chancellor, and the Lord of Calice,
Stern Falconbridge commands the Narrow Seas,
The Duke is made Protector of the Realm,
And yet fhalt thou be faſe ? fuch safety finds
The trembling Lamb, inv ironed with Wolves.

Had I been there, which am a filly Woman,
The Souldiers should have toſs'd me on their Pikes,
Before I would have granted to that Act.

But thou prefert ? It thy life before thine honour.
And feeing thou doſt, I here divorce my ſelf,
Both from thy Table, Henry, and thy Bed,

Until that Act of Parliament be repealed,
Whereby my Son is dif-inherited.

The Northern Lords, that have forworn thy Colours,
Will follow mine, if once they fee them spread :
And spread they ſhall be, to their foul diſgrace,
And utter ruine of the Houſe of York.

Thus do I leave thee : Come Son, let's away,
Our Army is ready, come, we'll after them.

Henry. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me ſpeak.

Queen. Thou haſt ſpoke too much already : get the
gone.

Hen. Gentle Son Edward, thou wilt ſlay with me ?

Queen. I, to be murder'd by his Enemies.

Pyn. When I return with victory from the Field,
Ile fee your Grace : till then I'le follow her.

Queen. Come, Son, away, we may not linger thus.

Hen. Poor Queen,

How love to me, and to her Son,
Hath made her break out into terms of Rage.

Revel'd may he be on that hateful Duke,
Whole haughty Spirit, winged with deline,
Will coſt my Crown, and like an empty Eagle,
Tyre on the Flesh of me, and of my Son.

The toſs of those three Lords torments my Heart :

I write unto them, and entreat them fair :
Come, Couſin, you ſhall be the Meſenger.

Exe. And I hope ſhall reconcile them all.

[Exit.]

Enter Richard, Edward, and Mountague.

Rich. Brother, though I be youngeſt, give me leave.

Edw. No, I can better play the Orator.

Moun. But I have reaſons ſtrong and forcible.

Enter the Duke of York.

Yor. Why, how now Sons and Brothers, at a ſtrife ?

What is your Quarrel ? how began it firſt ?

Edw. No Quarrel, but a flight Contention.

Yor. About what ?

Rich. About that which concerns your Grace and us,
The Crown of England, Father, which is yours.

Yor. Mine, Boy ? not until King Henry be dead.

Rich. Your Right depends not on his life, or Death.

Edw. Now you are Heir, therefore enjoy it now :

By giving the Houſe of Lancaſter leave to breathe,
It will run-out you, Father, in the end.

Yor. I took an Oath, that he ſhould quietly Reign.

Edw. But for a Kingdom any Oath may be broken:

I would break a thouſand Oaths to Reign one year.

Richard. No: God forbid, your Grace ſhould be forworn.

Yor. I ſhall be, if I claim by open War.

Richard. I'le prove the contrary, if you'l hear me
ſpeak.

Yor. Thou canſt not, Son, ?tis impoffible.

Rich. An Oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful Magiſtrate,

That hath authority over him that ſwears.

Henry had none, but did ſurp the place.

Then feeing 'twas he that made you to depoſe,
Your Oath, my Lord, is vain and frivolous.

Therefore to Arms: and, Father, do but think,
How Iweet a thing it is to wear a Crown,

Within whose Circuit is Elysium,

And all that Poets feign of Blifs and Joy.

Why do we linger thus ? I cannot reſt,

Until the White Rode that I wear, be dy'd

Even in the luke-warm blood of Henry's Heart.

Yor. Richard, enough: I will be King, or die.

Brother, thou ſhalt to London prefently,

And what on Warwick to this Enterprize.

Thou, Richard, ſhalt be Duke of Norſtol,

And tell him privily of our intent.

You, Edward, ſhall unto my Lord Cobham,

With whom the Kentiſh-men will willingly rife.

In them I truſt; for they are Souldiers,

Witty, courteous, liberal, full of Spirit.

While you are thus employ'd, what reſteth more,
But that I feek occafion how to rife ?

And yet the King not privy to my drift,

Nor any of the Houſe of Lancaſter.

Enter Gabriel.

But ſlay, what News ? why com'ſt thou in ſuch poſt ?

Gabriel. The Queen,

With all the Northern Earls and Lords,

Intend here to beſiege you in your Caſtle.

She is hard by, with twenty thouſand Men :

And therefore fortifiſe your hold, my Lord.

Yor. I, with my Sword.

What ? think'ſt thou, that we fear them ?

Edward and Richard, you ſhall ſlay with me,

My Brother Montague ſhall poſt to London.

Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the reſt,

Whom we have left Proteſors of the King,

With powerful Policy ſtrengthen themſelves,

And truſt not ſimple Henry, nor his Oaths.

Moun. Brother, I go: I'le win them, fear it not.

And thus moſt humbly I do take my leave.

[Exit Mountague.

Enter Mortimer, and his Brother.

Yor. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine Uncles,

You are come to Sandal in a happy hour.

The Army of the Queen means to beſiege us.

John. She ſhall not need, we'll meet her in the Field.

Yor. What, with five thouſand Men ?

Rich. I, with five hundred, Father, for a need.

A Woman's General: what ſhould we fear ?

[A march after off.

Edw. I hear their Drums :

Let's fet our Men in order,

And iflie forth, and bid them Battel ſtreight.

Yor. Five Men to twenty though the odds be great,

I doubt not, Uncle, of our Victory.

Many a Battel have I won in France,

When as the Enemy hath been ten to one:

Why ſhould I not now have the like ſucces ?

Alarum.

[Exit.]

Enter.

Pp 2

The third part of King Henry the Sixth.

Enter Rutland and his Tutor.

Rut. Ah, whither shall I flye, to scape their hands?
Ah, Tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes.

Enter Clifford.

Clif. Chaplain, away, thy Priefhood faves thy life,
As for the Brat of this accurfed Duke,
Whofe Father flew my Father, he shall die.

Tutor. And I, my Lord, will bear him company.

Clif. Souldiers, away with him.

Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child,
Left thou be hated both of God and Man.

Clif. How now? is he dead already?

Or is it fear that makes him clofe his Eyes ?
I'le open them.

Rut. So looks the pent-up Lyon o're the wretch,
That trembles under his devouring Paws :
And so he walks, infulting o're his Prey,
And so he comes to rend his Limbs afunder.

Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy Sword,
And not with such a cruel threatning look.

Sweet Clifford, hear me fpeak, before I die :

I am too mean a fubject for thy wrath,
Be thou reveng'd on Men, and let me live.

Clif. In vain thou fpeak?ft, poor Boy :
My Fathers blood hath flop't the paflage
Where thy words ſhould enter.

Rut. Then let my Fathers blood open it again,
He is a Man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Clif. Had I thy Brethren here, their lives and thine
Were not revenge sufficient for me :

No, if I digg'd up thy Fore-fathers Graves,
And hung their rotten Coffins up in Chains,
It could not flake mine ire, nor eafe my heart.
The fight of any of the Houſe of York,
Is as a fury to torment my Soul :
And till I root out their accurfed Line,
And leave not one alive, I live in Hell.

Therefore—

Rut. Oh let me pray, before I take my death :
To thee, I pray, fweet Clifford, pity me.

Clif. Such pity as my Rapier's point affords.

Rut. I never did thee harm : why wilt thou flay me?

Clif. Thy Father hath.

Rut. But 'twas e're I was born.

Thou haſt one Son, for his ſake pity me,
Leaſt in revenge thereof, ſich God is juit,
He be as miferably flain as I.

Ah, let me live in Prifon all my days,

And when I give occasion of offence,

Then let me die, for now thou haſt no caufe.

Clif. No caufe ? thy Father flew my Father: therefore die.

Rut. Dii faciantur laudis ſumma fit ifsa tua.

Clif. Plantagener, I come, Plantagener.

And this thy Sons blood cleaving to my Blade,
Shall ruſt upon my Weapon, till thy blood
Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.

Alarum. Enter Richard Duke of York.

Tor. The Army of the Queen hath got the Field :
My Uncles both are flain in reſuing me,
And all my followers to the eager Foe.

Turn back, and flye, like Ships before the wind,
Or Lambs purfu'd by hunger-ſtarved Wolves.

My Sons, God knows what hath bechanced them :
But this I know, they have demean'd themſels
Like Men born to Renown, by Life or Death.

Three times did Richard make a Lane to me,
And thrice cry'd, Courage, Father, fight it out :

And full as oft came Edward to my fide,

With Purple Faulchion, painted to the Hilt

In blood of thofe that had encountr'd him:
And when the hardieſt Warriers did retire,
Richard cry'd, Charge, and give no foot of ground,
And cry'd, a Crown, or elfe a glorious Tomb,
A Scepter or an Earthly Sepulcher.

With this we charg'd again: but out alas,

We bodg'd again: as I have ſeen a Swan

With bootleſs labour ſwim againſt the Tide,

And ſpend her ſtrength with overmatching Waves.

Ah hark, the fatal followers do purſue,

And I am faint, and cannot flye their fury.

And were I ſtrong, I would not ſun their fury.

The Sands are numbed, that make up my Life,
Here muſt I ſtay, and here my Life muſt end.

Enter the Queen, Clifford, Northumberland, the young Prince and Souldiers.

Come bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,

I dare you quenchleſs fury to more ſage :

I am your But, and I abide your ſhot.

North. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagener.

Clif. I, to ſuch mercy, as his rulſeſs Arm
With down-right payment, ſhew'd unto my Father,
Now Pbaeton hath tumbled from his Carre,
And made an Evening at the Noon-tide Prick.

Tor. My Aſhes, as the Phœnix, may bring forth
A Bird, that will revenge upon you all:

And in that hope, I throw mine Eyes to Heaven,
Scorning what e're you can inflect me with.

Why come you not ? what ? multitudes, and fear?

Clif. So Cowards fight, when they can flye no ſurde
So Doves do peck the Falcons piercing Talons,
So desperate Thieves, all hopeleſs of their lives,
Breathe out invectives? gainſt the Officers.

Tor. Oh Clifford, but thinketh thee once again,
And in thy thought o're-run my former-time:
And if thou canſt, for bluſhing, view this Face,
And bite thy Tongue, that flanders him with Coward.

Whofe frown hath made him faint and flye e're this

Clif. I will not bandy with thee word for word,
But buckler with thee blows twice two for one.

Queen. Hold, valiant Clifford, for a thouſand caſes
I would prolong a while the Traytors Life:

Wraith makes him deaf; ſpeak thou, Northumberland.

North. Hold Clifford, do not honour him so much,
To prick thy Finger, though to wound his Heart.

What valour were it, when a Curr doth grin,
For one to thrust his Hand between his Teeth,
When he might ſpurn him with his foot away ?

It is Wars prize to take all vantages,

And ten to one, is no impeach of Valour.

Clif. I, I, fo ſtrives the Woodcock with the Gyn.

North. So doth the Cony ſtruggle in the Net.

Tor. So triumph Thieves, upon their conquer'd Booty,

So true Men yield, with Robbers fo o're-matcht.

North. What would your Grace have done unto him now?

Queen. Brave Warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,

Come make him fland upon this Mole-hill here,
That caught at Mountains with out-ſtretched Aarms,
Yet parted but the ſhadow with his hand.

What, was it you that would be England's King?

Was't you that revel'd in our Parliament,
And made a Preachment of your high Deſcent?

Where are your meſs of Sons to back you now ?

The wanton Edward, and the Iuſly George?

And where's that valiant Crook-back Prodigy,
Dicky, your Boy, that with his grumbling voyce
Was wont to cheer his Dad in Mutinies?

Or with the reſt, where is your Darling Rutland?

Look York, I ſtain'd this Napkin with the blood
That valiant Clifford, with his Rapiers point,
Made ilſue from the boſom of the Boy,

And if thine Eyes can water for his Death,

I give

164

The execution of my big-fwynl Heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel Child-killer.

Clif. I flew thy Father, call it thou him a Child ?
Rich. I, like a Daftard, and a treacherous Coward,
As thou didst kill our tender Brother Rutland,
But ere Sun set, I'le make thee curfe the deed.

King. Have you done with words (my Lords) and hear
me fpeak.

Queen. Defie them then, or else hold clofe thy Lips.
King. I prithee give no limits to my Tongue,
I am a King, and priviledged to speak.

Clif. My Liege, the wound that bred this meeting here,
Cannot be cur'd by words, therefore be fitill.

Rich. Then Execution erunſheath thy Sword:
By him that made us all, I am refolv'd,
That Clifford's Manhood lies upon his Tongue.
Ed. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no:
A thoufand Men have broke their Fails to day,
That ne're shall dine, unleſs thou yield the Crown.
War. If thou deny, their Blood upon thy Head,
For York in justice puts his Armour on.

Pr. Ed. If that be right, which Warwick ſays is right,
There is no wrong, but every thing is right.

War. Who ever got thee, there thy Mother ſands,
For well I wot, thou haſt thy Mothers Tongue.

Queen. But thou art neither like thy Sire nor Dam,
But like a foul miſhapen Stigmatick,
Mark'd by the Deſtinies to be avoided,
As venom Toads, or Lizards dreadful ſtings.

Rich. Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,
Whofe Father bears the Title of a King,
(As if a Channel ſhould be call'd the Sea)

Sham'd thou not, knowing whence thou art extrauight,
To let thy Tongue detect thy bafe-born heart.

Ed. A wisp of Straw were worth a thoufand Crowns,
To make this flameleſs Callet know her ſelf.

Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
Although thy Husband may be Menæbus,
And ne're was Agamemnon's Brother wrong'd
By that talſe Woman, as this King by thee.
His Father revell'd in the Heart of France,
And tam'd the King, and made the Dolphin ſloop :

And had he match'd according to his State,
He might have kept that glory to this day.
But when he took a Beggar to his Bed,

And grac'd thy poor Sire with his Bridal day,
Even then that Sun-like brew'd a flowr for him,
That waſt his Fathers Fortunes forth of France,
And heap'd Sedition on his Crown at home:

For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride ?
Hadst thou been meek, our Title still had leſt,
And we in pity of the Gentle King,
Had flap't our Claim until another Age.

Cla. But when we law our Sunlike made thy Spring,
And that thy Summer bred us no encreafe,
We fet the Ax to thy ufurping Root:

And though the edge hath fomething hit our ſelves,
Yet know thou, ſince we have begun to ſtrike,
We'll never leave, till we have hewn thee down,
Or bath'd thee growing with our heated bloods.

Ed. And in this refolution I defie thee,
Not willing any longer Conference,
Since thou deni'dt the gentle King to ſpeak.
Sound Trumpets, let our bloody Colours wave,
And either Victory, or else a Grave.

Queen. Stay, Edward.
Ed. No, wrangling Woman, we'll no longer ſlay.
These words will coſt ten thouſand lives this day.

[Exeunt omnes.

Alarum. Excursions. Enter Warwick.

War. Fore-spent with toyl, as Runners with a Race,
I lay me down a little while to breath :

For ſtrokes received, and many blows repaid,
Have robb'd my ſtrong knit Sinews of their ſtrength,
And ſpight of ſpight, needs muſt I reſt a while.

Enter Edward running.

Ed. Smile, gentle Heaven, or ſtrike, ungentle death,
For this world frowns, and Edward's Sun is clouded,

War. How now, my Lord, what hap? what hope of good
Enter Clarence.

Cla. Our hap is loſs, our hope but ſad depair,
Our ranks are broke, and ruine follows us.
What Counſel give you ? whether ſhall we flye ?

Ed. Bootleſs is flight, they follow us with Wings,
And weak we are, and cannot ſhun purſuit.

Enter Richard.

Rich. 'Ah Warwick, why haſt thou withdrawn thy ſelf?
Thy Brothers blood the thirtly Earth hath drunk,
Broach'd with the ſleely point of Clifford's Launce:
And in the very pangs of death he cry'd,
Like to a diſmal Clangor heard from far,
Warwick, revenge; Brother, revenge my death.
So underneath the belly of their Steeds,

That ſrain'd their Fetlocks in his ſmoaking blood,
The Noble Gentleman gave up the Ghoſt.

War. Then let the Earth be drunken with our blood:
Ple kill my Horſe becauſe I will not ſlye:

Why ſtand we like ſoft-hearted Women here,
Wailing our loſſes, whiles the Foe doth rage,
And look upon, as if the Tragedy

Were plaid in jeſt by counterfeiting Actors.
Here on my Knee, I wot to God above,
Ple never pawſe again, never ſtand ſtill,

Till either death hath clos'd the ſtheſe Eyes of mine,
Or Fortune given me meaſure of revenge.

Ed. O Warwick, I do bend my Knee with thine,
And in this Woy do Chain my Mother to thine.

And e're my Knee rife from the Earths cold Face,
I throw my Hands, mine Eyes, my Heart to thee,
Thou fetter up, and plucker down of Kings,
Befeeching thee, (if with thy Will it ſtands)

That to my Foes this body had to prey,
Yet that thy Brazen Gates of Heaven may op,
And give t徵eſt paſſage to my ſinful Soul.

Now Lords, take leave until we meet again,
Where e're it be, in Heaven, or in the Earth.

Rich. Brother.

Give me thy Hand, and gentle Warwick,

Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:

I that did never weep, now melt with woe,
That Winter ſhould cut off our Spring-time ſo.

War. Away, away :

Once more, ſweet Lords, farewel.

Cla. Yet let us altogether to our Troops:

And give them leave to ſlye that will not ſlay :

And call them Pillars that will ſtand to us:

And if we thrive, promife them ſuch rewards
As Vicerſors wear at the Olympian Games.

This may plant Courage in their quailing breaſts,
For yet is hope of Life and Victory :

Fore-flow no longer, make we hence amin.

[Exeunt.

Excursions. Enter Richard and Clifford.

Rich. Now Clifford, I have ſingled thee alone,
Suppofe this arm is for the Duke of York,
And this for Rutland, both bound to revenge,
Wer't thou environ'd with a Brazen Wall.

Clif. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone,
This is the Hand that ſtabb'd thy Father York,
And this the Hand that flew thy Brother Rutland,
And here's the Heart, that triumphs in their death,
And cheers the ſeſe Hands that flew thy Sire and Brother,
To execute the like upon thy ſelf,
And ſo have at thee.

They fight, Warwick comes, Clifford flies.

Rich.

Are at our backs, and therefore hence amain.

*Exet.* Away: for vengeance comes along with them.
Nay, fly not to expolluate, make flye,
Or else come after, Ile away before.

Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter :
Not that I fear to fly, but love to go
Whither the Queen intends. Forward, away.
[Exeunt.]

A loud Alarum. Enter Clifford wounded.

Clif. Here burns my Candle out; I, here it dies,
Vhich whiles it lafted, gave King Henry light.
O Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow,
More than my Bodies parting with my Soul:
My Love and Fear glew'd many Frinds to thee,
And now I fall. Thy tough Commixtures melt,
Impairing Henry, strengtning mis-proud York;
And whither fly the Gnats, but to the Sun?
And who fhines now, but Henry's Enemies?
O Thæbus! hadft thou never gave confent,
That Phæton should check thy fiery Steeds,
Thy burning Carr never had forch'd the Earth.
And Henry, hadft thou fway'd as Kings fhould do,
Or as thy Father, and his Father did,
Giving no ground unto the House of Tork,
They never then had Sprung like Summer Flyes:
I, and ten thoufand in this lucklefs Realm,
Had left no mourning Widows for our death,
And thou this day, hadft kept thy Chair in peace.
For what doth cherifh Weeds, but gentle Air?
And what makes Robbers bold, but too much lenity?
Bootlefs are Plaints, and Curelefs are my Wounds?
No way to flye, nor ſtrength to hold out flight:
The Foe is mercileſs, and will not pity:
For at their hands I have deferv'd no pity.
The Air hath got into my deadly Wounds,
And much effuſe of blood doth make me faint:
Come Tork, and Richard, Warwick, and the reſt,
I ſtabb'd your Fathers boſoms: Split my Breast.

Alarum and Retreat. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, and Souldiers, Mountague, and Clarence.

Ed. Now breathe we Lords, good Fortune bids us pawſe,
And smooth the frowns of War with peaceful looks:
Some Troops purſue the bloody-minded Queen,
That led calm Henry, though he were a King,
As doth a Sail fill'd with a fretting Guſt,
Command an Argofie to ſtemm the Waves:
But think you (Lords) that Clifford ſled with them?

War. No, 'tis impoffible he ſhould eſcape :
(For though before his face I speak the word)
Your Brother Richard mark'd him for the Grave.
And wherefoe're he is, he's ſurely dead. [Clifford groans.
Rich. Whofe Soul is that, which takes her heavy leave?
A deadly groan, like Life and Deaths departing.
See who it is.

Ed. And now the Battel's ended,
If Friend or Foe, let him be gently uſed.
Rich. Revoke that doom of Mercy, for 'tis Clifford,
Who not contented that he lopp'd the Branch
In hewing Rutland, when his leaves put forth,
But fet his murth'ring Knife unto the Root,
From whence that tender ſpray did sweetly ſpring,
I mean our Princely Father, Duke of Tork.
War. From off the Gates of York fetch down the head,
Your Fathers Head, which Clifford placed there:
Inſtead whereof, let his ſupply the room,
Meaſure for meaſure muſt be anſwered.

Ed. Bring forth that fatal Screech-owl to our house,
That nothing ſung but Death to us and ours:
Now death ſhall ſtop his diſmal threatning found,
And his ill-boading Tongue, no more ſhall ſpeak.
War. I think his underſtanding is bereſt:

Speak Clifford, doft thou know who ſpeaks to thee?
Dark cloudy Death o're-flades his beams of Life,
And he nor fees, nor hears us, what we fay.
Rich. O would he did, and ſo (perhaps) he doth,
'T is but his policy to counterfeit,
Because he would avoid ſuch bitter taunts
Which in the time of death he gave our Father.

Cla. If so thou think'st,
Vex him with eager words.
Rich. Clifford, *ask Mercy, and obtain no Grace.
Ed. Clifford, repent in bootleſs penitence.
War. Clifford, devife eſcuſes for thy ſaults.
Cla. While we devife ſell Tortures for thy ſaults.
Rich. Thou did'ſt love Tork, and I am Son to Tork.
Ed. Thou pitied it Rutland, I will pitty thee.
Cla. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?
War. They mock thee, Clifford,
Swear, as thou waſt wont.
Rich. What, not an Oath? Nay, the World goes hard

When Clifford cannot ſpare his Friends an Oath:
I know by that he's dead, and by my Soul,
If this right hand would buy but two hours life,
That I (in all deſpight) might rail at him,
This hand ſhould chop it off: and with the iſſuing blood
Stiſſe the Villain, whose unſtanch'd thirſt
Tork, and young Rutland, could not ſatisſe.

War. I, but he's dead. Off with the Traytors head,
And rear it in the place your Father's ſlands,
And now to London with triumphant march,
There to be Crowned England's Royal King:
From whence ſhall Warwick cut the Sea to France,
And ask the Lady Bona for thy Queen:
So ſhalt thou ſnow both theſe Lands together,
And having France thy Friend, thou ſhalt not dread
The ſcatter'd Foe, that hopes to rife again :
For though they cannot greatly ſting to hurt,
Yet look to have them buz to offend thine Ears.
First will I ſee the Coronation,
And then to Britany I'le croſs the Sea,
To effect this Marriage, ſo it pleafe my Lord.

Edw. Even as thou wilt, ſweet Warwick, let it be:
For on thy Shoulder do I build my ſeat;
And never will I undertake the thing
Wherein thy Counſel and confent is wanting :
Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloeſter,
And George of Clarence; Warwick as our Self
Shall do, and undo, as himſelf pleaſeth beſt.
Rich. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloſter,
For Gloſter's Dukedom is too ominous.

War. Tut, that's a foolish obſervation :
Richard, be Duke of Gloſter: Now to London,
To fee theſe honours in poſſession.

[Exeunt.]

Enter Sinklo, and Humphrey, with Croſs-bows in their hands.

Sin. Under this thick grown brake we'll ſhrowd our ſelfs:
For through this Laund anon the Deer will come,
And in this Covert will we make our Stand,
Culling the principal of all the Deer.

Hum. I'le flyt above the Hill, fo both may hoot.
Sink. That cannot be, the noife of thy Croſs-bow
Will ſcare the Herd, and fo my hoot is loſt:
Here ſtand we both, and aim we at the beſt:
And for the time ſhall not ſeem tedious,
Ple tell thee what beſell me on a day,
In this ſelf-place, where now we mean to ſtand.
Sink. Here comes a man, let's flyt till he be paſt.

Enter the King with a Prayer-book.

Hen. From Scotland am I ſtoin even of pure love,
To greet mine own Land with my wilſul fight:
No Harry, Harry, 'tis no Land of thine,

170

Bona. Your grant, or your deny, shall be mine,
Yet I confess, that often e're this day,
[Speaks to War.]
When I have heard your Kings defert recounted,
Mine Ear hath tempted judgment to defire.

Lew. Then Warwick, this :

Our Sifter shall be Edwards.

And now forthwith shall Articles be drawn :
Touching the Joynture that your King maſt make,
Which with her Dowry ſhall be counterpoys'd:
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witneſs,
That Bona ſhall be Wife to the English King.

Prin. Edw. To Edward, but not to the English King.

Marg. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device,

By this alliance to make void my Suit;
Before thy coming, Lewis was Henries Friend.

Lew. And still is Friend to him, and Margaret,

But if your Title to the Crown be weak,
As may appear by Edwards good ſucceſs :
Then 'tis but reaſon, that I be releas'd
From giving aid, which late I promised.
Yet ſhall you have all kindneſs at my hand,
That your Eſtate requires, and mine can yield.

War. Henry now lives in Scotland, at his eafe;

Where having nothing, nothing can he leſe.
And as for you your ſelf (our quondam Queen)
You have a Father able to maintain you,

And better ? were, you troubled him, than France.

Mar. Peace impudent and ſhameleſs Warwick, peace,
Proud fetter up, and puller down of Kings,
I will not hence, till with my Talk and Tears
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy fly conveyance, and thy Lords falſe love.

[Poſt blowing a horn within.

For both of you are Birds of ſelf-ſame Feather.
Lew. Warwick, this is ſome Poſt to us, or thee?

Enter a Poſt.

Poſt. My Lord Ambaſſador,

Theſe Letters are for you.
[Speaks to Warwick.
Sent from your Brother Marqueſs Mountague.

Theſe from our King, unto your Maſſety.
[To Lewis.
And Madam, theſe for you,
[To Margaret.

From whom, I know not.

They all read their Letters.

Oſx. I like it well, that our fair Queen and Miftrefſs,
Smiles at her news, while Warwick, frowns at his.

Prin. Edw. Nay mark how Lewis ſtamps as he were
netled. I hop', all's for the belt.

Lew. Warwick, what are thy News ?

And yours, fair Queen ?

Mar. Mine ſuch, as fills my heart with unhop'd joys.

War. Mine full of forrow, and hearts diſcontent.

Lew. What ? has your King Married the Lady Gray ?
And now to foot his Forgery, and his,

Sends me a Paper to perſwade me Patience ?

In th' Alliance that he feeks with France,
Dare he preſume to ſcorn us in this manner ?

Mar. I told your Maſſety as much before :

This proveth Edwards Love, and Warwicks Honeſty.

War. King Lewis, I here proteſt in fight of Heaven,
And by the hope I have of Heavenly blifs,

That I am clear from this miſdeed of Edwards;
No more my King, for he diſhonours me,
But moſt himſelf, if he could fee his ſhame.

Did I forget, that by the houſe of Tork,
My Father came untimely to his Death ?

Did I let paſs th' abufe done to my Niece ?

Did I impale him with the Regal Crown ?
Did I put Henry from his Native Right ?

And am I guerdon'd at the laſt, with Shame ?

Shame on himſelf, for my Defert is Honour.
And to repair my Honour loſt for him,
I here renounce him, and return to Henry.

My Noble Queen, let former grudges paſs,
And henceforth I am thy true Servitout :

I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former ſtate.

Mar. Warwick,

Theſe words have turn'd my Hate to Love,
And I forgive, and quite forget old faults,
And joy that thou becom'd King Henries Friend.

War. So much his Friend, I, his unfeigned Friend,
That if King Lewis vouchſaſte to furniſh us

With ſome few Bands of choſen Souldiers,
Ile undertake to Land them on our Coaſt,
And force the Tyrant from his Seat by War.

'Tis not his new-made Bride ſhall ſucour him,

And as for Clarence, as my Letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him,

For matching more for wanton Laſt, than Honour,
Or than for ſtrength and ſafety of our Country.

Bona. Dear Brother, how ſhall Bona be reveng'd,
But by thy help to this diſtrefſed Queen ?

Mar. Renowned Prince, how ſhall poor Henry live,
Unleſs thou reſcue him from ſoul deſpair ?

Bona. My quarrel, and this English Queens are one.

War. And mine, fair Lady Bona, joyns with yours.

Lew. And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margar-
Therefore at laſt, I firmly am reſoly'd

You ſhall have aid.

Mar. Let me give humble thanks for all, at once.

Lew. Then England's Meffinger, return in Poſt,
And tell ſalſe Edward, thy ſuppoſed King,

That Lewis of France, is ſending over Maskers
To revel it with him, and his new Bride.

Thou ſeeft what's paſt, go fear thy King withall.

Bona. Tell him, in hopes he'll prove a Widower ſon,
I wear the Willow Garland for his fake.

Mar. Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid alſide,
And I am ready to put Armour on.

War. Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I'le un-Crown him, er't be long.

There's thy reward, be gone.

Lew. But Warwick,

Thou and Oxford, with five thouſand men
Shall croſs the Seas, and bid ſalſe Edward Battel:
And as occafion ſerves, this Noble Queen

And Prince, ſhall follow with a freſh ſupply,
Yet e're thou go, but anſwer me one doubt :
What Pledge have we of thy firm Loyalty ?

War. This ſhall ſuffre my conſtant Loyalty,
That if our Queen, and this young Prince agree,
Ile joyn my eldeſt Daughter, and my Joy,
To him forthwith, in holy Wedlock bands.

Mar. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your Motion
Son Edward, ſhe is Fair and Vertuous,
Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick,
And with thy Hand, thy Faith irrevocable,
That only Warwick's Daughters Daughter ſhall be thine.

Prin. Ed. Yes, I accept her, for ſhe well defers it,
And here to pledg my Vow, I give my hand.

[He gives his hand to Warwick.

Lew. Why ſay we now ? theſe Souldiers ſhall be leviſed,
And thou Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral
Shalt waſt them over with our Royal Fleet.
I long till Edward fall by Wars miſchance,
For mocking Marriage with a Dame of France.

[Exeunt. Manet Warwick.

War. I came from Edward as Ambaſſador,
But I return his ſworn and mortal Foe :

Matters of Marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful War ſhall anſwer his demand.

Had he none eſſe to make a ſtale but me ?
Then none but I, ſhall turn his Jeſt to Sorrow,

I was the Chieſt that rais'd him to the Crown,
And Ile be chieſt to bring him down again :

Not that I pity Henries miſery,

But ſeeK Revenge on Edwards mockery.

[Exit.]

Exeunt.

["The third Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "Enter Richard, Clarence, Somerset, and Mountague.", "Rich. Now tell me Brother Clarence, what think you\nOf this new Marriage with the Lady Gray?", "Hath not our Brother made a worthy choice ?", "Clar. Alas, you know, 'tis far from hence to France,", "How could he fly till Warwick made return ?", "Som. My Lords, forbear this talk : here comes the King.", "Flourish. Enter King Edward, Lady Gray, Pembrook,\nStafford, Haftings: four stand on one side, and four on\nthe other.", "Rich. And his well-chosen Bride.", "Clar. I mind to tell him plainly what I think.", "King. Now Brother of Clarence,", "How like you our Choice,", "That you stand penfive, as half malecontent ?", "Clar. As well as Lewis of France,", "Or the Earl of Warwick,", "Which are so weak of Courage, and in Judgment,", "That they'l take no offence at our abufe.", "King. Suppofe they take offence without a caufe :", "They are but Lewis and Warwick, I am Edward,", "Your King and Warwick's, and muſt have my will.", "Rich. And ſhall have your will, because our King ?", "Yet haſtly Marriage ſeldom proveth well.", "King. Yes, Brother Richard, are you offendeſt too ?", "Rich. Not I: no:", "God forbid, that I hould wifh them fever'd,", "Whom God hath joyn'd together.", "I, and 'twere pity, to funder them,", "That yoak ſo well together.", "King. Setting your ſcorns, and your miſlike afide,", "Tell me fome Reafon, why the Lady Gray", "Should not become my Wife, and Englands Queen ?", "And you too, Somerſet and Mountague,", "Speak freely what you think.", "Clar. Then this is my opinion :", "That King Lewis becomes your Enemy,", "For mocking him about the Marriage", "Of the Lady Bona.", "Rich. And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,\nis now diſhonoured by this new Marriage.", "King. What, if both Lewis and Warwick be appeaſ'd,", "By ſuch invention as I can devife ?", "Mount. Yet to have joyn'd with France, in ſuch alliance,\nWould more have ſtrength'ned this our Common-wealth,\n'Gainſt forſ foreign ſtorms, than any home-bred Marriage.", "Haſt. Why, knows not Mountague, that of it ſelf,", "England is ſafe, if true within it ſelf?", "Moun. Yes, but the ſafer, when 'tis back'd with France,", "Haſt. 'Tis better uſing France, than truſting France.", "Let us be back'd with God, and with the Seas,", "Which he hath giv'n for fence impregnable,", "And with their helps only defend our ſelves :", "In them, and in our ſelves, our ſafet y lies.", "Cla. For this one ſpeech, Lord Haſtings well deferſes\nTo have the Heir of the Lord Hungerſord.", "King. I, what of that ? it was my will, and grant,", "And for this once, my Will ſhall ſtand for Law.", "Rich. And yet methinks, your Grace hath not done well\nTo give the Heir and Daughter of Lord Scales", "Unto the Brother of your loving Bride :", "She better would have fitted me or Clarence :", "But in your Bride you bury Brotherhood.", "Cla. Or eſſe you would not have beſtow'd the Heir", "Of the Lord Boniull on your new Wives Son,", "And leave your Brothers to go ſpeed eſwhere.", "King. Alas, poor Clarence: is it for a Wife", "That thou art malecontent ? I will provide thee.", "Cla. In chufing for your ſelf,", "You ſhew'd your judgment :", "Which being ſhallow, you ſhall give me leave", "To play the Brother in mine own behalf ;", "And to that end, I ſhortly mind to leave you.", "King. Leave me, or tarry, Edward will be King ;", "And not be ty'd unto his Brothers will.", "Lady Gray. My Lords, before it pleas'd his Majefty", "To raife my State to Title of a Queen,", "Do me but right, and you muſt all confers,", "That I was not ignoble of Deſcent,", "And meaner than my ſelf have had like fortune.", "But as this Title honours me and mine,", "So your diſlikes, to whom I would be pleafing,", "Doth cloud my Joys with danger, and with forrow.", "King. My Love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns :", "What danger, or what forrow can befall thee,", "So long as Edward is thy conſtant Friend,", "And their true Soveraign, whom they muſt obey ?", "Nay, whom they ſhall obey, and love thee too,", "Unleſs they feek for hatred at my hands :", "Which if they do, yet will I keep thee ſafe,", "And they ſhall feel the Vengeance of wrath.", "Rich. I hear, yet ſay not much, but think the more.", "Enter a Poſt.", "King. Now Meſlenger, what Letters, or what News\nfrom France ?", "Poſt. My Soveraign Liege, no Letters, and ſewords\nBut ſuch as I (without your ſpecial pardon)", "Dare not relate.", "King. Go too, we pardon thee :", "Therefore, in brief, tell their words,", "As near, as thou canſt gueſs them,", "What anſwer makes King Lewis unto our Letters ?", "Poſt. At my depart, theſe were his very words :", "Go tell ſaſſe Edward, the ſuppoſed King,", "That Lewis of France is ſending over Maskers,", "To revel it with him, and his new Bride.", "King. Is Lewis ſo brave ? belike he thinks me Henry.", "But what ſaid Lady Bona to my Marriage ?", "Poſt. Theſe were her words, utter'd with mild diſdain :", "Tell him, in hope he'll prove a Widower ſhortly,", "I leware the Willow Garland for his ſake.", "King. I blame not her, ſhe could ſay little ſeſ :", "She had the wrong. But what ſaid Henries Queen ?", "For fo I heard, that ſhe was there in place.", "Poſt. Tell him (quoth ſhe)", "My mourning Weeds are done,", "And I am ready to put Armor on.", "King. Belike ſhe means to play the Amazon.", "But what ſaid Warwick to theſe injuries ?", "Poſt. He, more incens'd againſt your Majefty", "Than all the reſt, diſcharg'd me with theſe words :", "Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong,", "And therefore I'le uncrown him er't be long.", "Kin. Ha ? durſt the Traitor breathe out ſo proud words?", "Well, I will arm me, being thus fore-warn'd :", "They ſhall have Wars, and pay for their preſumption.", "But ſay, is Warwick Friends with Margaret ?", "Poſt. I, gracious Soveraign,", "They are ſo link'd in Friendliſh,", "That young Prince Edward Marries Warwick's Daughter.", "Cla. Belike, the elder ;", "Clarence will have the younger.", {"bbox": [448, 1168, 735