And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born fwain
That doth prefume to boast of gentle blood.

K. Henry. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'ft thy doom;

Be packing therefore, thou that waft a Knight;
Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death. [Exit Fast.
And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter
Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.

Glou. What means his Grace, that he hath chang'd his ftile?

No more but plain and bluntly, To the King. [Reading.
Hath he forgot, he is his Sovereign?
Or doth this churlifh fuperfcription
Portend fome alteration in good will?
What's here? I have upon efpecial caufe,

Mov'd with compaffion of my country's wreck,

Together with the pitiful complaints

Of fuch as your oppreffion feeds upon,

Forfaken your pernicious faction,

[Reads:

And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France. O monstrous treachery! can this be fo?

That in alliance, amity, and oaths,

There fhould be found fuch falfe diffembling guile?
K. Henry. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
Glou. He doth, my Lord, and is become your foe.
K. Henry. Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
Glou. It is the worft, and all, my Lord, he writes.
K, Henry. Why then, Lord Talbot there fhall talk
with him,

And give him chastisement for this abuse.
My Lord, how fay you, are you not content?
Tal. Content, my Liege? yes: but that I'm pre-
vented,

I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.
K. Henry. Then gather ftrength, and march unto
him ftrait:

Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason,

And

And what offence it is to flout his friends.
Tal. I go, my Lord, in heart defiring ftill
You may behold confufion of your foes. [Exit Talbot.

SCENE II.

Enter Vernon and Baffet.

Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious Sovereign.
Baf. And me, my Lord; grant me the combat too.
York. This is my servant; hear him, noble Prince.
Som. And this is mine; fweet Henry, favour him.
K. Henry. 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. K.Henry. What is the wrong whereon you both complain?

First let me know, and then I'll answer you.

Baf. Croffing the fea from England into France,
This fellow here, with envious, carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rofe I wear;

Saying, the fanguine colour of the leaves
Did reprefent my mafter's blushing cheeks;
When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain queftion 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 worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.

Ver. And that is my petition, noble Lord;
For though he feem with forged quaint conceit
To fet a glofs upon his bold intent,

Yet, know, my Lord, I was provok'd by him;

And

And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing, that the paleness of this flow'r
Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart.

York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne'er fo cunningly you fmother it.

K. Henry. Good Lord! what madness rules in brainfick men !

When, for fo flight and frivolous a cause,
Such factious emulations fhall arife!
Good coufins both of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
York. Let this diffention firft be try'd by fight,
And then your Highness fhall command a peace.
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.

York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
Ver. Nay, let it reft, where it began at first.
Baf. Confirm it fo, mine honourable Lord.
Glou. Confirm it fo?-Confounded be your ftrife,
And perifh ye with your audacious prate;
Prefumptuous vaffals! are you not asham'd
With this immodest clamorous outrage
To trouble and difturb the King, and us?
And you, my Lords, methinks, you do not well
To bear with their perverfe objections:
Much lefs to take occafion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt your elves:

Let me perfuade you, take a better course.

Exe. It grieves his Highnefs. Good my Lords, be friends..

K. Henry. Come hither you, that would be combatants.

Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.

-And you, my Lords, remember where we are,
In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation;
If they perceive diffention in our looks,

And

And that within ourselves we difagree,
How will their grudging ftomachs be provok'd
To wilful Difobedience, and Rebel?
Befide, what infamy will there arise,
When foreign Princes fhall be certify'd,
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's Peers and chief Nobility
Destroy'd themselves, and loft the realm of France?
O, think upon the Conqueft of my father,
My tender years, and let us not forego

That for a trifle, which was bought with blood.
Let me be Umpire in this doubtful ftrife.

I fee no reason, if I wear this rofe,

[Putting on a red rofe. That any one fhould therefore be fufpicious I more incline to Somerfet, than York.

Both are my kinfmen, and I love them both.
As well they may upbraid me with my Crown,
Because, forfooth, the King of Scots is crown'd.
But your discretions better can perfuade
Than I am able to inftruct or teach,
And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us ftill continue peace and love.
Coufin of York, we inftitute your Grace
To be our Regent in these parts of France:
And, good my Lord of Somerfet, unite
Your troops of horfemen with his bands of foot;
And, like true fubjects, fons of your progenitors,
Go chearfully together, and digeft

Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourself, my Lord Protector, and the rest,
After fome refpite, will return to Calais;
From thence to England; where I hope ere long
To be prefented, by your victories,

With Charles, Alanson, and that trait'rous rout.
[Flourish. Exeunt,

Manent

Manent York, Warwick, Exeter, and Vernon.

War. My Lord of York, I promise you, the King Prettily, methought, did play the orator.

York. And fo he did; but yet I like it not, In that he wears the badge of Somerfet.

War. Tufh, that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare prefume, fweet Prince, he thought no harm. York. And, if I wis, he did.-But let it reft; Other affairs muft now be managed.

Manet Exeter.

[Exeunt.

Exe. Well didft thou, Richard, to fupprefs thy voice:
For had the paffions of thy heart burst out,
I fear, we should have seen decypher'd there
More ranc'rous fpight, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or fuppos'd.

But howfoe'er, no fimple man that fees
This jarring difcord of Nobility,

This should'ring of each other in the Court,
This factious bandying of their favourites;
But that he doth prefage fome ill event.

'Tis much, when scepters are in childrens' hands;
But more, when envy breeds unkind divifion :
There comes the ruin, there begins confufion. [Exit.