Henry VI, Part I

see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country’s stained spots. Burgundy

Either she hath bewitch’d me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Pucelle

Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join’st thou with but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit’s 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 fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See, then, thou fight’st against thy countrymen
And join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.

Burgundy

I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
Have batter’d me like roaring cannon-shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees.
Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
My forces and my power of men are yours:
So farewell, Talbot; I’ll no longer trust thee.

Pucelle Aside. Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again! Charles Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh. Bastard And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Alençon

Pucelle hath bravely play’d her part in this,
And doth deserve a coronet of gold.

Charles

Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
And seek how we may prejudice the foe. Exeunt.

Scene IV

Paris. The palace.

	Enter the King, Gloucester, Bishop of Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Exeter: Vernon, Basset, and others. To them with his Soldiers, Talbot.
Talbot	My gracious prince, and honourable peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm, I have awhile given truce unto my wars, To do my duty to my sovereign: In sign whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim’d To your obedience fifty fortresses, Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength, Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem, Lets fall his sword before your highness’ feet, And with submissive loyalty of heart Ascribes the glory of his conquest got First to my God and next unto your grace. Kneels.
King	Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester, That hath so long been resident in France?
Gloucester	Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.
King	Welcome, 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 were 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, Because till now we never saw your face: Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts, We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury; And in our coronation take your place. Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but Vernon and Basset.
Vernon	Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In honour of my noble Lord of York: Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest?
Basset	Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.
Vernon	Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
Basset	Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
Vernon	Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that. Strikes him.
Basset	Villain, thou know’st the law of arms is such That whoso draws a sword, ’tis present death, Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. But I’ll unto his majesty, and crave I may have liberty to venge this wrong; When thou shalt see I’ll meet thee to thy cost.
Vernon	Well, miscreant, I’ll be there as soon as you; And, after, meet you sooner than you would. Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

Paris. A hall of state.

	Enter the King, Gloucester, Bishop of Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, the Governor of Paris, and others.
Gloucester	Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.
Winchester	God save King Henry, of that name the sixth!
Gloucester	Now, governor 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!
	Enter Sir John Fastolfe.
Fastolfe	My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To haste unto your coronation, A letter was deliver’d to my hands, Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.
Talbot	Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! I vow’d, base knight, when I did meet thee next, To tear the garter from thy craven’s leg, Plucking it off. Which I have done, because unworthily Thou wast installed in that high degree. Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest: This dastard, at the battle of Patay, When but in all I was six thousand strong And that the French were almost ten to one, Before we met or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire did run away: In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; Myself and diverse gentlemen beside Were there surprised and taken prisoners. Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood, yea or no.
Gloucester	To say the truth, this fact was infamous And ill beseeming any common man, Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.