S CE NE II.

Enter Mayor.

Mayor. O my good Lords, and virtuous Henry,
Pity the City London, pity us;

The Bishop's and the Duke of Glo'fter's men,
Forbidden late to carry any weapon,

Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones;
And banding themselves in contrary parts,
Do pelt fo faft at one another's pates,

That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:
Our windows are broke down in ev'ry street,
And we for fear compell'd to fhut our shops.

Enter feveral in skirmish with bloody pates: K. Henry. We charge you on allegiance to our felves, To hold your flaught'ring hands and keep the peace: Pray, uncle Glo'fter, mitigate this ftrife.

1. Serv. Nay, if we be forbidden ftones, we'll fall to it with our teeth.

2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as refolute.

[Skirmish again. Glou. You of my houfhold, leave this peevish broil, And fet this unaccuftom'd fight aside.

3 Serv. My Lord, we know your Grace to be a man
Juft and upright; and for your royal birth
Inferior to none 3 'but his Majefty:

And ere that we will fuffer fuch a Prince,
So kind a father of the common-weal,
To be difgraced by an Inkhorn-mate,
We and our wives and children all will fight,
And have our bodies flaughter'd by thy foes.
1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails
Shall pitch a field when we are dead.

Glou. Stay, 'tay,`

And if you love me as you fay you do,

[Begin again.

Let

2 Bishop

3 but to his

4 ftay, I fay,

Let me perfwade you to forbear a while.
K. Henry. O, how this difcord doth afflict
my foul!
Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
My fighs and tears, and will not once relent?
Who fhould be pitiful, if you be not?
Or who should study to prefer a peace,
If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

War. My Lord Protector, yield: yield, Winchester; Except you mean with obftinate repulfe

To flay your Sovereign and deftroy the realm.
You fee what mifchief and what murther too.
Hath been enacted through your enmity:
Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.
Win. He fhall fubmit, or I will never yield.
Glou. Compaffion on the King commands me ftoop,
Or I would fee his heart out, ere the Prieft
Should ever get that privilege of me.

War. Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the Duke
Hath banish'd moody difcontented fury,

As by his smoothed brows it doth appear.

Why look you ftill fo ftern and tragical?

Glou. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.

K. Henry. Fie, uncle Beaufort: I have heard you preach, That malice was a great and grievous fin:

And will not you maintain the thing you teach,

But prove a chief offender in the fame?

War. Sweet King! the Bishop hath a kindly gird:
For fhame, my Lord of Winchester, relent;
What, fhall a child inftruct you what to do?

Win. Well, Duke of Glo'fter, I will yield to thee;
Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give.
Glou. Ay, but I fear me with a hollow heart.
See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
This token ferveth for a flag of truce
Betwixt our felves and all our followers:
So help me God as I diffemble not!

Win. [Afide.] So help me God as I intend it not!
K. Henry. Oh loving uncle, gentle Duke of Glofter,

How

How joyful am I made by this contract!
Away, my masters, trouble us no more,

But join in friendship as your Lords have done.
1 Serv. Content, I'll to the furgeon's.

2 Ser. So will I.

3 Serv. And I'll fee what phyfick the tavern affords.'

SCENE

[Exeunt.

III.

War. Accept this fcrowl, moft gracious Sovereign, Which'in right of Richard Plantagenet

We do exhibit to your Majesty.

[Prince,

Glou. Well urg'd, my Lord of Warwick; For, fweet

An if your Grace mark ev'ry circumstance,

You have great reafon to do Richard right:
Especially for those occafions

At Eltham-place I told your Majesty.

K. Henry. And thofe occafions, uncle, were of force:
Therefore, my loving Lords, our pleasure is,
That Richard be reftored to his blood.

War. Let Richard be reftored to his blood,
So fhall his father's wrongs be recompens'd.
Win. As will the reft, fo willeth Winchester.
K. Henry. If Richard will be true, not that alone]
But all the whole inheritance I give

That doth belong unto the house of York,
From whence you spring by lineal descent.
Rich. Thy humble fervant vows obedience
And faithful fervice 'till the point of death.

K. Henry. Stoop then, and fet your knee against my foot And in reguerdon of that duty done,

I gird thee with the valiant fword of York,
Rife, Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
And rife created Princely Duke of York.

Rich. And fo thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall!

And as my duty fprings, fo perifh they

in the right

That

That grudge one thought against your Majesty!

All. Welcome, high Prince, the mighty Duke of York!
Som. Perish, bafe Prince, ignoble Duke of York!

Glou. Now will it beft avail your Majefty
To cross the feas, and to be crown'd in France:
The prefence of a King engenders love
Amongst his fubjects and his loyal friends,
As it difanimates his enemies.

[Afide.

K. Henry. When Glo'fter fays the word, King Henry

goes;

For friendly counfel cuts off many foes.

Glou. Your fhips already are in readiness.

Manet Exeter.

[Exeunt.

Exe. Ay, we may march in England or in France,
Not feeing what is likely to enfue;

This late diffention grown betwixt the Peers
Burns under feigned afhes of forg'd love,
And will at laft break out into a flame.
As fefter'd members rot but by degrees,
'Till bones and flesh and finews fall away:
So will this bafe and envious difcord breed.
And now I fear that fatal prophefy,
Which in the time of Henry nam'd the Fifth
Was in the mouth of ev'ry fucking babe;
That Henry born at Monmouth fhould win all,
And Henry born at Windfor fhould lofe all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter doth wish
His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Exit.

SCENE

Enter Joan la Pucelle difguis'd, and four Soldiers with
Jacks upon their backs.

Pucel. THESE are the city gates, the gates of Roan,
Through which our policy muft make a breach.

Take heed, be wary how you place your words,
Talk like the vulgar fort of market-men
That come to gather mony for their corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we fhall,
And that we find the flothful watch but weak,
I'll by a fign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
Sol. Our facks fhall be a mean to fack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;

Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Qui va la?

[Knocks.

Pucel. Paifans pauvres gens de France. Poor market-folks that come to fell their corn. Watch. Enter, go in, the market-bell is rung. Pucel. Now, Roan, I'll fhake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Bastard, and Reignier.

Dau. St. Dennis blefs this happy ftratagem!
And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.
Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle and her partifans:
Now he is there, how will fhe specifie
Where is the best and safest paffage in?

Reig. By thrufting out a torch from yonder tow'r,
Which once difcern'd, fhews that her meaning is
No way to that (for weakness) which the enter'd.

Enter