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And on his son, young John; whom, two hours That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd, since,
When sa pless age, and weak unable limbs, I met in travel toward his warlike father.
Should bring thy lather to his drooping chair. These seven years did not Talbot see his son; But,--0) malignant and ill-boding stars !-And now they meet where both their lives are done. Now thou art come unto a feast of death,
York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have, A terrible and unavoided a danger: To bid his young son welcome to his grave? Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse; Away! vexation alınost stops my breath,
And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death. By sudden flight: come, dally not; begone. Lucy, farewell: no more my fortune can,
John. Is my name Talbot?' and am
your son ! But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.- And shall I fly? o, if you love my mother, Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, Dishonor not her honorable name, 'Long all of Somerset, and his delay. (Erit. To make a bastard, and a slave of me:
Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition The world will say-He is not Talbot's blood, Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, That basely fled when noble Talbot stood. Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror,
John. He, that flies so, will ne'er return again. That ever-living man of memory,
Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. Henry the Fifth :-Whiles they each other cross, John. Then let me stay; and, father, do you ily: Lives, honors, lands, and all, hurry to loss. (E.cit. Your loss is great, so your regards should be;
My worth unknown, no less is known in me. SCENE IV.-Other Plains of Gascony. Upon my death the French can little boast;
In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of Flight cannot stain the honor you have won; TALBOT's with him.
But mine it will, that no exploit have done: Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now;
You fled for vantage, every one will swear; This expedition was by York, and Talbot,
But, if I bow, they'll say-it was for fear. Too rashly plotted; all our general force
There is no hope ihat ever I will stay, Might with a sally of the very town
If, the first hour, I shrink, and run away. Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot.
Here on my knee, I beg mortality, Hath sullied all his gloss of toriner honor,
Rather than lite preserv'd with infamy. By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure;
Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? York set him on to fight, and die in shame,
John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
womb. 01. Here is sir William Lucy, who with me
Tal. Upon my blessing, I command thee go. Set Troin our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.
John. To fight I will, but not to fly the toe.
Tal. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee. Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY.
John. No part of him, but will be shame in me.
Tul. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not Som. How now, sir William ? whither were you
lose it. sent?
Juhn. Yes, your renowned name; Shall flight Lucy. Whither, my lord ? from bought and sold
abuse it? lord Talbot; Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from
that stain. Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. To beat assailing death from his weak legions.
If death be so apparent, then both tly. And whiles the honorable captain there
Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight and Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
die? And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue,
My age was never tainted with such shame. You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
John. And shall my youth beguilty of such blame? Keep of aloof with worthless emulation.
No more can I be severed from your side,
That can yourself yourself in twain divide :
Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I;
For live I will not, it my father die. Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, Orleans The Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy,
Born to eclipse thy lie this afternoon. Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,
Come, side by side together live and die; And Talbot perisheth by your default.
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. Suin. York set him on, York should have sent
[Exeunt. hinn aid. Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace ex
SCENE VI.- A Field of Batlle. claims; Swearing that you withhold his levied horse, Alarum: Excursion, wherein Talbot's Son is Collected for this expedition.
hemmeli about, and TALBOT rescues him. Sum. York lies; he might have sent and had the Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, horse:
light: I owe him little duty, and less love;
The regent hath with Talbot broke his word, And take foul scorn, to lawn on him by sending. And leit us to the rage of France's sword. Lucy. The fraud of England, not ihe force of Where is John Talbot?-pause, and take thy breath; France,
I gave thee life, and rescued thee from death. Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot:
John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son: Never to England shall he bear his life;
The life thou gav'st me first, was lost and done; But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
Till with thy warlike sword, despite of late, Som. Come, go; I will despaich the horsemen To my determin’dt time thou gav'st new date. straight:
Tal. When from the dauphin's crest thy sword Within six lours they will be at his aid.
struck fire, Lucy. Too late comes rescue: he is ta'en or slain: It warın'd thy father's heart with proud desire For iiy he could not, it he would have thed;
Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, And jy would Talbot never, though he might.
Quickend with youthful spleen, and warlike rage, Sum. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu !
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy, Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in And from the pride of Gallia rescued tiiee. you.
(Exeunt. The ireful bastard Orleans that drew blood
From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood SCENE V.-The English Camp near Bourdeaux.
Of thy first fight-1 soon encountered;
And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
'For unavoidable. 1 Encircled. * Your care of your own safety.
And mishegotten blood I spill of thine,
Alarums. E.reunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving the Mean and right poor; for that pure blood of mine, twv Bolies. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, BURGUNDY, Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave Bastard, LA PCCELLE, and Forces.'
boy:Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue Caine in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care;
in, Art not thou weary, John? How dost thou fare? We should have found a bloody day of this. Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and lly,
Bust. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging Now thou art seald the son of chivalry?
wood, Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead; Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! The help of one stands me in little stead.
Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, 0, too much folly is it, well I wot,
Thou mailen youth, be vanquish'd by a maid: To hazard all our lives in one small boat.
But--with a proud, majestical, high scornIf I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
He answer'd thus: Young Talbot was not born To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
To be the pillage of a gigloto wench: By me they nothing gain, an if I stay,
So, rushing in the bowels of the French, "Iis but the short'ning of my life one day:
He left me proudly, as unworthy tight. In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's
Sec, where he lies inhersed in the arms All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay; Of the most bloody nurser of his harins. All these are sav'd, if thou wilt fly away.
Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones John. The sword of Orleans hath not made me
Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. These words of yours draw life-blood from my Char. O, no; forbear: for that which we have heart:
fied On that advantage, bought with such a shame, During the life, let us not wrong it dead. (To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame,) Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY, atlended; a Frencha The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die:
Conduct me to the dauphin's tent; to know
Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day. An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son:
Char. On what submissive message art thou Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.
sent? Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,
Lucy. Submission, dauphin? 'tis a mere French
word; Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:
We English warriors wot not what it means.
I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta’en, (Exeunt.
And to survey the bodies of the dead.
Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison SCENE VII.- Another Part of the same.
But tell me whom thou seek'st. Alarum: Excursions. Enter TALBOT wounded, Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, supported by a Servant.
Valiant lord Talbot, earl of ShrewsburyTal. Where is my other life? mine own is Created, for his rare success in arms,
Grcat earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence; gone; 0, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?- Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, Triumphant death, smeard with captivity!
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton, Young Talbot's valor makes me smile at thee:- Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee,
Sheffield, His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge; And, like a hungry lion, did commence
Knight of the noble order of saint George, Rough deeds of rage, and stern im patience;
Worthy saint Michael, and the golden fleece; But when my angry guardant stood alone,
Great mareshal to Henry the Sixth, Tend'ring my ruin, and assail'd of noue,
Of all his wars within the realm of France? Dizzy-ey'd fury, and great rage of heart,
Pue. Here is a silly stately style indeed! Suddenly made him from my side to start
The Turk, that two-and-liity kingdoms hath, Into the clust'ring battle of the French:
Writes not so tedious a style as this.And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles, His overmounting spirit; and there died
Stinking and fly-blown, lies here at our feet. My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only
That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces! Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to O, that I could but call these dead to life! scorn,
It were enough to fright the realm of France: Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Were but his picture left among you here, Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
It would amaze the proudest of you all. Two Talbots, winged through the lither: sky, Give me their bodies that I may bear them In thy despite, shall ’scape mortality:-
hence, O thou whose wounds become hard-favor'd death, And give them burial as beseems their worth. Speak to thy father, ere thou yield thy breath: Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, Brave death by speaking, whether he will, or no; He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. Imagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe.-
For God's sake, let him have 'em; to keep them Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should
They would but stink, and putrefy the air. Had death been French, then death had died to- Char. Go, take their bodies hence. day.
I'll bear them hence: Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms; But from their ashes shall be rear'd My spirit can no longer bear these harmis.
A phænix that shall make all France afeard. Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
Chur. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. • Make me like.
(Exeunt. & Watching me with tenderness in my fall. • Flexible, yielding.
8 Raving mad.
SCENE 1.-London. A Room in the Palace. 'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And turn again unto the warlike French. Enter KING HENRY, GLOSTER, and EXETER.
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of K. Hen. Have you perus'd the letters from the
And keep not back your powers in dalliance. The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac?
Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Success unto our valiant general,
Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr’ythee, To stop effusion of our Christian blood,
speak. And 'stablish quietness on every side.
Mess. The English army, that divided was
And means to give you battle presently.
Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; That such immanity 1 and bloody strife Should reign among professors of one faith. But we will presently provide for them. Glo. Beside, my lord,-the sooner to etlect,
Bur. I trust, the ghost of Talbot is not there; And surer bind, this knot ot' amity,-
Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. The earl of Armagnac--near knit to Charles,
Puc. Of all base passions, fear is most accursd: A man of great authority in France,
Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine; Proffers his only daughter to your grace
Let Henry fret, and all the world repive. In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
Chur. Then on, my lords; And France be forK. Hen. Marriage, uncle! alas! my years are
(Exeunt. young; And fitter is my study and my books,
SCENE III.- Before Angiers. Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
Alurums: Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE. Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please, So let them have their answers every one:
Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen I shall be well content with any choice,
1ly:Tends to God's glory, alıd my country's weal.
Now help, ye charming spells, and peria pts;'
And ye choice spirits that admonish me, Enter a Legate, and two Ambassadors, with WiN- And give me signs of future accidents! [Thunder CHESTER, in a Cardinal's Habit.
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes Ere. What! is my lord of Winchester installid, Under the lordly monarch of the north, And call'd unto a cardinal's degree?
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize! -
This speedy quick appearance argues proof
Of your accustom’d dilligence to me. K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cullid suits
Out oi the powerful regions under earth, Have been consider'd and debated on.
Help me this once, that France may get the field. Your purpose is both good and reasonable:
[They walk about, and speak not. And, therefore, are we certainly resolvid
O, hold me not with silence over-long! To draw conditions of a friendly peace;
Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean
l'Il lop a member off, and give it you, Shall be transported presently to France.
In earnest of a further benefit;
[They hang their heads. As—liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
No hope to have redress ?--My body shall Her beauty, and the value of her dower,
Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit. He doth intend she shall be England's queen.
(They shake their heads. K. Hen. In argument and prooi of which contract,
Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice,
Entreat you to your wonted furtherance ?
Before that England give the French the foil. And safely brought to Dover; where, inshipp’d,
See! they forsake me. Now the time is come, Commit them to the fortune of the sea.
(Exeunt King HENRY and Train; Gloster, That France must vail“ her loity-plumed crest, EXETER, and Ambassadors.
And let her head fall into England's lap. Win. Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receive My ancient incantations are ioo weak, The sum of money, which I promised
And hell too strong for me to buckle with: Should be deliver'd to his holiness
Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
(Exit. Leg. I will attend upon your lordship’s leisure. Alarums. Enter French and English fighling. LA
Win. Now, Winchester will not submit, I trow, PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hanu.. LA Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
PUCELLE is taken. The French fly. Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive,
York. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast: That neither in birth, or for authority,
Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms, The bishop will be overborne by thee:
And try if they can gain your liberty I'll either make thee stoop, and bend thy knee,
A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace! Or sack this country with a mutiny. (Exeunt.
See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
As if, with Circe, she would change my shape. SCENE II.-France. Plains in Anjou.
Puc. Changed to a worser shape thou caust not
be. Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, LA PUCELLE, and Forces, marching.
York. O, Charles the dauphin is a proper man:
No shape but his can please your dainty eye. Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits:
% Charms worn about the person.
9 The north was supposed to be the particular babita. Inhumanity. tion of bad spirits.
Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not supthee!
pose And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd
Your bondage happy, to be made a queen ? By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, York. Fell, bannings hag! enchantress, hold thy Than is a slave in base servility; tongue.
For princes should be free. Puc. I pr’ythee, give me leave to curse a while. Suf.
And so shall you York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to If happy England's royal king be free. the stake.
(Exeunt. Mar. Why, what concerns his treedom unto me! Avarums. Enter Suffolk, leading in LADY Mar- To put a golden sceptre in thy hand,
Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen;
And set a precious crown upon thy head,
Suf. His love.
Suf. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am
And have no portion in the choice myself.
Mar. Margaret my name; and daughter to a king, Mar. An if my father please, I am content.
Suf. Then call our capiains, and our colors forth:
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.
[Troops come forward. So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings.
A Parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER, on the Walls Yet, if this servile usage once oflend,
Suf. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Go, and be free again as Suffolk's friend.
Reig. To whom? (She turns away as going. Suf
To me. 0, stay!-I have no power to let her pass ;
Suffolk, what remedy? My hand would free her, but my heart says-no.
I am a soldier; and unapt to weep, As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. Twinkling another counterteited beam,
Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord:
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king;
And this her easy-held imprisonment
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
Fair Margaret knows, Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. Thai Suffolk doth not flatter, face," or feign.
Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk,--if thy name be so,- Reig. Upon the princely warrant, I descend, What ranson must I pay before I pass?
To give thee answer of thy just demand.
[Erit from the Walls.
Trumpets sounded. Enter REIGNIER, below.
Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories;
Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear. Roig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little
Free from oppression, or the stroke of war,
And those two counties I will undertake,
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
As deputy unto that gracious king,
Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
Mar. Hear ye, captain ? Are you not at leisure? | And yet, methinks, I could be well content
Suf. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much; To be mine own attorney in this case. (Asii'e.
I'll over then to England with this news,
(Aside. And make this marriage to be solemniz'd; Madam I have a secret to reveal.
So, farewell, Reignier! Set this diamond safe Mar. What though I be enthralla ? he seems a In golden palaces, as it becomes. knight,
Reig. I do cmbrace thee, as I would embrace
Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. Mar. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise,
[ Aside. No princely commendations to my king ? Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so?
Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. A virgin, and his servant, say to him.
Suf. Words sweetly placed, and modestly directed 6 To ban is to curse.
But, madam, I must trouble you again, Do not represent thyself so weak.
No loving token to his majesty. ? An awkward business, an undertaking not likely to succeed.
• Play the hypocrito.
Mar. Yes, my good lord; a pure, unspotted heart, Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
That so her torture may be shortened. Suf. And this withal.
(Kisses her. Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts? Mür. That for thyself;--I will not so presume, Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity; To send such peevish' tokens to a king.
That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.[Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET. I am with child, ye bloody homicides: Suf. 0, wert thou for mysell!- But, Suffolk, stay; Murder not then the fruit within my womb, Thou mayșt not wander in that labyrinth;
Although ye hale me to a violent death. There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk.
York. Now heaven foretend! the holy maid with Solicit Henry with her wond’rous praise:
child! Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount;
War. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought: Ma 1,2 natural graces that extinguish art;
Is all your strict preciseness come to this? Repeat their semblance otten on the seas,
York. She and the dauphin have been juggling; That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, I did imagine what would be her refuge. Thou mayst bereave himn ot' his wits with wonder. War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live;
(Exit. Especially since Charles must lather it.
Puc. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his; SCENE IV.-Camp of the Duke of York in Anjou. It was Alençon that enjoy'd my love.
York. Alençon! that notorious Machiavel! Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others.
It dies, an it it had a thousand lives. York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to
Puc. O, give me leave, I have deluded you; burn.
'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke i nam'd,
But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd. Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a Shepherd. War. A married man!' that's most intolerable. Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart out- York. Why, here's a girl! I think, she knows not right!
well, Have I sought every country far and near,
There was so many, whom she may accuse. And, now it is my chance to tind thee out,
War. It's sign, she hath been liberal and free. Must I behold thy timeless: cruel death?
York. And, yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure!Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, l'll die with thee! Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee:
Puc. Decrepid miser!• base ignoble wretch! Use no entreaty, for it is in vain. I am descended of a gentler blood;
Puc. Then lead me hence ;-with whom I leave Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine.
my curse: Shep. Out, out!-My lords, an please you, 'tis May never glorious sun reflex his beams not so;
Upon the country where you make abode! I did beget her, all the parish knows:
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Her mother liveth yet, can testify,
Environ you; till mischief, and despair, She was the first fruit of my bachelorship.
Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves! War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage?
[Exit, guarded. York. This argues what her kind of life hath been; York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes, Wicked and viie; and so her death concludes. Thou foul accursed ininister ot hell!
Shep. Fie, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle! God knows thou art a collop of my flesh;
Enter CARDINAL BEAUFORT, attended. And for thy sake have I shed many a tear:
Char. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence Deny me not, I pr’ythee, gentle Joan.
With letters of commission from the king. Púc. Peasant, avaunt!- You have suborn'd this For know, my lords, the states of Christendom, man,
Mov'd with remorsei of these outrageous broils, On purpose to obscure my noble birth.
Have earnestly impior'd a general peace Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest, Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French; The morn that I was wedded to her mother. And here at hand the dauphin, and his train, Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl. Approacheth, to conter about some matter. Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the tine York. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect? Of thy nativity! I would, the milk
After the slaughter of so many peers, Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck'dst her So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers, breast,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown, Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!
And sold their bodies for their country's benefit, Or else, when thou didst keep iny lambs a-field, Shall we at last conclude efleminate peace? I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
Have we not lost most part of all the towns, Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
By treason, talsehood, and by treachery, 0, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. (Exit. Our great progenitors had conquered ?
York. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long, 0, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief To fill the world with vicious qualities.
The utter loss of all the realm of France. Puc. First, let me tell you whom you have con- War. Be patient, York; if we conclude a peace, demn'd:
It shall be with such strict and severe covenants, Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
As little shall the Frenchinen gain thereby. But issu'd from the progeny of kinys;
Enter CHARLES, attended; ALENÇOX, Bastard, RergVirtuous, and holy; chosen from above, By inspiration of celestial grace,
NIER, and others. To work exceeding miracles on earth.
Char. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, I never had to do with wicked spirits:
That peaceful truce should be proclaim'd in France, But you,--that are polluted with your lusts, We come to be informed by yourselves Staind with the guiltless blood of innocents, What the conditions of that league must be. Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
York. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler Because you want the grace that others have,
chokes You judge it straight a thing impossible
The hollow passage of my poison'd voice,
Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus: A virgin from her tender infancy,
That-in regard king Henry gives consent, Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
Of mere compassion, and of lenity, Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd, To ease your country of distressful war, Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven. And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace
York. Ay, ay ;-away with her to execution. You shall become true liegemen to his crown:
War. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid, And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear Spare for no fa gois, let there be enough:
Tv pay him tribute, and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him, 1Childish.
3 Untimely. And still enjoy thy regal dignity. • Miser here simply means a miserable creature.
Alen. Must he be then a shadow of himself! $A corruption of obstinate.
Adorn his temple with a coronet;a 6". No, ye misconceivers, ye who mistake me and my qualities."
7 Compassion. * Coronet is bere used for crown.