Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/471

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The first Part of Henry the Sixt.
109

French March.
Now in the Rereward comes the Duke and his:
Fortune in fauor makes him lagge behinde.
Summon a Parley, we will talke with him.

Trumpets sound a Parley.

Charles.
A Parley with the Duke of Burgonie.

Burg.
Who craues a Parley with the Burgonie?

Pucell.
The Princely Charles of France, thy Countreyman.

Burg.
What say'st thou Charles? for I am marching hence.

Charles.
Speake Pucell, and enchaunt him with thy words.

Pucell.
Braue Burgonie, vndoubted hope of France,
Stay, let thy humble Hand-maid speake to thee.

Burg.
Speake on, but be not ouer-tedious.

Pucell.
Looke on thy Country, look on fertile France,
And see the Cities and the Townes defac't,
By wasting Ruine of the cruell Foe,
As lookes the Mother on her lowly Babe,
When Death doth close his tender-dying Eyes.
See, see the pining Maladie of France:
Behold the Wounds, the most vnnaturall Wounds,
Which thou thy selfe hast giuen her wofull Brest.
Oh turne thy edged Sword another way,
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that helpe:
One drop of Blood drawne from thy Countries Bosome,
Should grieue thee more then streames of forraine gore.
Returne thee therefore with a floud of Teares,
And wash away thy Countries stayned Spots.

Burg.
Either she hath bewitcht me with her words,
Or Nature makes me suddenly relent.

Pucell.
Besides, all French and France exclaimes on thee,
Doubting thy Birth and lawfull Progenie.
Who ioyn'st thou with, but with a Lordly Nation,
That will not trust thee, but for profits sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that Instrument of Ill,
Who then, but English Henry, will be Lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a Fugitiue?
Call we to minde, and marke but this for proofe:
Was not the Duke of Orleance thy Foe?
And was he not in England Prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine Enemie,
They set him free, without his Ransome pay'd,
In spight of Burgonie and all his friends.
See then, thou fight'st against thy Countreymen,
And ioyn'st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, returne; returne thou wandering Lord,
Charles and the rest will take thee in their armes.

Burg.
I am vanquished:
These haughtie wordes of hers
Haue batt'red me like roaring Cannon-shot,
And made me almost yeeld vpon my knees.
Forgiue me Countrey, and sweet Countreymen:
And Lords accept this heartie kind embrace.
My Forces and my Power of Men are yours.
So farwell Talbot, Ile no longer trust thee.

Pucell.
Done like a Frenchman: turne and turne againe.

Charles.
Welcome braue Duke, thy friendship makes vs fresh.

Bastard.
And doth beget new Courage in our Breasts.

Alans.
Pucell hath brauely play'd her part in this,
And doth deserue a Coronet of Gold.

Charles.
Now let vs on, my Lords,
And ioyne our Powers,
Exeunt.And seeke how we may preiudice the Foe.


Scæna Quarta.


Enter the King, Gloucester, Winchester, Yorke, Suffolke,
Somerset, Warwicke, Exeter: To them, with
his Souldiors, Talbot.

Talb.
My gracious Prince, and honorable Peeres,
Hearing of your arriuall in this Realme,
I haue a while giuen Truce vnto my Warres,
To doe my dutie to my Soueraigne.
In signe whereof, this Arme, that hath reclaym'd
To your obedience, fiftie Fortresses,
Twelue Cities, and seuen walled Townes of strength,
Beside fiue hundred Prisoners of esteeme;
Lets fall his Sword before your Highnesse feet:
And with submissiue loyaltie of heart
Ascribes the Glory of his Conquest got,
First to my God, and next vnto your Grace.

King.
Is this the Lord Talbot, Vnckle Gloucester,
That hath so long beene resident in France?

Glost.
Yes, if it please your Maiestie, my Liege.

King.
Welcome braue Captaine, and victorious Lord:
When I was young (as yet I am not old)
I doe remember how my Father said,
A stouter Champion neuer handled Sword.
Long since we were resolued of your truth,
Your faithfull seruice, and your toyle in Warre:
Yet neuer haue you tasted our Reward,
Or beene reguerdon'd with so much as Thanks,
Because till now, we neuer saw your face.
Therefore stand vp, and for these good deserts,
We here create you Earle of Shrewsbury,
And in our Coronation take your place.
Senet.Flourish.Exeunt. 

Manet Vernon and Basset.

Vern.
Now Sir, to you that were so hot at Sea,
Disgracing of these Colours that I weare,
In honor of my Noble Lord of Yorke
Dar'st thou maintaine the former words thou spak'st?

Bass.
Yes Sir, as well as you dare patronage
The enuious barking of your sawcie Tongue,
Against my Lord the Duke of Somerset.

Vern.
Sirrha, thy Lord I honour as he is.

Bass.
Why, what is he? as good a man as Yorke.

Vern.
Hearke ye: not so: in witnesse take ye that.
Strikes him. 

Bass.
Villaine, thou knowest
The Law of Armes is such,
That who so drawes a Sword,'tis present death,
Or else this Blow should broach thy dearest Bloud.
But Ile vnto his Maiestie, and craue,
I may haue libertie to venge this Wrong,
When thou shalt see, Ile meet thee to thy cost.

Vern.
Well miscreant, Ile be there as soone as you,
Exeunt.And after meete you, sooner then you would.

Enter