The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  The midwife wondered and the women cried

  ‘O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth !—

  And so I was, which plainly signified

  That I should snarl and bite and play the dog.

  Then, since the heavens have shaped my body so,

  Let hell make crooked my mind to answer it.

  I had no father, I am like no father;

  I have no brother, I am like no brother;

  And this word, ‘love’, which greybeards call divine,

  Be resident in men like one another

  And not in me—I am myself alone.

  Clarence, beware; thou kept’st me from the light—

  But I will sort a pitchy day for thee.

  For I will buzz abroad such prophecies

  That Edward shall be fearful of his life,

  And then, to purge his fear, I’ll be thy death.

  Henry and his son are gone; thou, Clarence, art next;

  And by one and one I will dispatch the rest,

  Counting myself but bad till I be best.

  I’ll throw thy body in another room

  And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

  Exit with the body

  5.7 ⌈A chair of state.⌉ Flourish. Enter King Edward, Lady Gray his Queen, George Duke off Clarence, Richard Duke of Gloucester, the Lord Hastings, a nurse carrying the infant Prince Edward, and attendants

  KING EDWARD

  Once more we sit in England’s royal throne,

  Repurchased with the blood of enemies.

  What valiant foemen, like to autumn’s corn,

  Have we mowed down in tops of all their pride!

  Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renowned

  For hardy and undoubted champions;

  Two Cliffords, as the father and the son;

  And two Northumbertands—two braver men

  Ne’er spurred their coursers at the trumpet’s sound.

  With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and

  Montague,

  That in their chains fettered the kingly lion

  And made the forest tremble when they roared.

  Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat

  And made our footstool of security.

  (To Lady Gray)

  Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.

  The nurse brings forth the infant prince. King Edward kisses him

  Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself

  Have in our armours watched the winter’s night,

  Went all afoot in summer’s scalding heat,

  That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace;

  And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.

  RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER (aside)

  I’ll blast his harvest, an your head were laid;

  For yet I am not looked on in the world.

  This shoulder was ordained so thick to heave;

  And heave it shall some weight or break my back.

  Work thou the way, and thou shalt execute.

  KING EDWARD

  Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen;

  And kiss your princely nephew, brothers, both.

  GEORGE OF CLARENCE

  The duty that I owe unto your majesty

  I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.

  He kisses the infant prince

  LADY GRAY

  Thanks, noble Clarence—worthy brother, thanks.

  RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER

  And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang’st,

  Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.

  He kisses the infant prince

  (Aside) To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master,

  And cried ‘All hail!’ whenas he meant all harm.

  KING EDWARD

  Now am I seated as my soul delights,

  Having my country’s peace and brothers’ loves.

  GEORGE OF CLARENCE

  What will your grace have done with Margaret?

  René her father, to the King of France

  Hath pawned the Sicils and Jerusalem,

  And hither have they sent it for her ransom.

  KING EDWARD

  Away with her, and waft her hence to France.

  And now what rests but that we spend the time

  With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,

  Such as befits the pleasure of the court?

  Sound drums and trumpets—fareweti, sour annoy!

  For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

  ⌈Flourish.⌉ Exeunt

  ADDITIONAL PASSAGES

  A. Our edition adopts the 1595 version of 1.1.120-5 in the belief that it reflects an authorial revision; an edited text of the Folio alternative follows.

  KING HENRY

  Peace, thou—and give King Henry leave to speak.

  WARWICK

  Plantagenet shall speak first—hear him, lords,

  And be you silent and attentive too,

  For he that interrupts him shall not live.

  KING HENRY ⌈to York⌉

  Think’st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,

  B. The 1595 text abridges 5.4.82.1-5.5.17, and may reflect authorial revision. An edited text of the abridged passage follows:

  ALL THE LANCASTER PARTY

  Saint George for Lancaster!

  Alarums to the battle. ⌈The house of⌉ York flies, then the chambers are discharged. Then enter King Edward, George of Clarence, and Richard of Gloucester, and their followers: they make a great shout, and cry ‘For York! For York!’ Then Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, Oxford and Somerset are all taken prisoner. Flourish, and enter all again

  KING EDWARD

  Now here a period of tumultuous broils.

  Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight;

  For Somerset, off with his guilty head.

  Go, bear them hence—I will not hear them speak.

  OXFORD

  For my part, I’ll not trouble thee with words.

  Exit, guarded

  SOMERSET

  Nor I, but stoop with patience to my death.

  Exit, guarded

  KING EDWARD (to Prince Edward)

  Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make

  For stirring up my subjects to rebellion?

  PRINCE EDWARD

  Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York.

  HENRY VI PART ONE

  BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND OTHERS

  THE play printed here first appeared in the 1623 Folio, as The First Part of Henry VI; it tells the beginning of the story that is continued in The First Part of the Contention and in Richard Duke of York. Although in narrative sequence it belongs before those plays, there is good reason to believe that it was written after them. It is probably the ‘new’ play referred to as ‘harey the vj’ in the record of its performance on 3 March 1592 by Lord Strange’s Men. The box-office takings of £3 16s. 8d. were a record for the season, and the play was acted another fifteen times during the following ten months. Its success is mentioned in Thomas Nashe’s satirical pamphlet Piers Penniless, published later in 1592. Defending the drama against moralistic attacks, Nashe claims that plays based on ‘our English chronicles’ celebrate ‘our forefathers’ valiant acts’ and set them up as a ‘reproof to these degenerate effeminate days of ours’. By way of illustration he alludes specifically to the exploits of Lord Talbot, the principal English warrior in Henry VI Part One: ‘How would it have joyed brave Talbot, the terror of the French, to think that after he had lain two hundred years in his tomb he should triumph again on the stage, and have his bones new-embalmed with the tears of ten thousand spectators at least, at several times, who in the tragedian that represents his person imagine they behold him fresh bleeding!’ Nashe may have had personal reasons to puff this play: a variety of evidence suggests that Shakespeare wrote it in collaboration with at least two other authors; Nashe himself was probably responsible for Act 1. The passages most confidently attributed to Shakespeare
are Act 2, Scene 4 and Act 4, Scene 2 to the death of Talbot at 4.7.32.

  A mass of material, some derived from ‘English chronicles’, some invented, is packed into this play. It opens impressively with the funeral of Henry V, celebrated for unifying England and subjugating France; but his nobles are at loggerheads even over his coffin, and news rapidly arrives of serious losses in France. The rivalry displayed here between Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester—Protector of the infant Henry VI—and Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, plays an important part in both this play and The Contention, as does the conflict between Richard, Duke of York, and the houses of Somerset and Suffolk; in the Temple Garden scene (2.4), invented by Shakespeare, York’s and Somerset’s supporters symbolize their respective loyalties by plucking white and red roses. Their dissension weakens England’s military strength, but she has a great hero in Lord Talbot, whose nobility as a warrior is pitted against the treachery of the French, led by King Charles and Joan la Pucelle (Joan of Arc), here—following the chronicles—portrayed as a witch and a whore. Historical facts are freely manipulated: Joan was burnt in 1431, though the play’s authors have her take part in a battle of 1451 in which Talbot’s death is brought forward by two years. The play ends with an uneasy peace between England and France.

  THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

  The English

  KING Henry VI

  Duke of GLOUCESTER, Lord Protector, uncle of King Henry

  Duke of BEDFORD, Regent of France

  Duke of EXETER

  Bishop of WINCHESTER (later Cardinal), uncle of King Henry

  Duke of SOMERSET

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET, later DUKE OF YORK, and Regent of France

  Earl of WARWICK

  Earl of SALISBURY

  Earl of SUFFOLK

  Lord TALBOT

  JOHN Talbot

  Edmund MORTIMER

  Sir William GLASDALE

  Sir Thomas GARGRAVE

  Sir John FASTOLF

  Sir William LUCY

  WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower of London

  MAYOR of London

  VERNON

  BASSET

  A LAWYER

  A LEGATE

  Messengers, warders and keepers of the Tower of London, servingmen, officers, captains, soldiers, herald, watch

  The French

  CHARLES, Dauphin of France

  RENÉ, Duke of Anjou, King of Naples

  MARGARET, his daughter

  Duke of ALENÇON

  BASTARD of Orléans

  Duke of BURGUNDY, uncle of King Henry

  GENERAL of the French garrison at Bordeaux

  COUNTESS of Auvergne

  MASTER GUNNER of Orléans

  A BOY, his son

  JOAN la Pucelle

  A SHEPHERD, father of Joan

  Porter, French sergeant, French sentinels, French scout, French herald, the Governor of Paris, fiends, and soldiers

  The First Part of Henry the Sixth

  1.1 Dead march. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended on by the Duke of Bedford (Regent of France), the Duke of Gloucester (Protector), the Duke of Exeter, the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset

  BEDFORD

  Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!

  Comets, importing change of times and states,

  Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,

  And with them scourge the bad revolting stars

  That have consented unto Henry’s death—

  King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long.

  England ne’er lost a king of so much worth.

  GLOUCESTER

  England ne‘er had a king until his time.

  Virtue he had, deserving to command.

  His brandished sword did blind men with his beams.

  His arms spread wider than a dragon’s wings.

  His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,

  More dazzled and drove back his enemies

  Than midday sun, fierce bent against their faces.

  What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech.

  He ne’er lift up his hand but conquered.

  EXETER

  We mourn in black; why mourn we not in blood?

  Henry is dead, and never shall revive.

  Upon a wooden coffin we attend,

  And death’s dishonourable victory

  We with our stately presence glorify,

  Like captives bound to a triumphant car.

  What, shall we curse the planets of mishap,

  That plotted thus our glory’s overthrow?

  Or shall we think the subtle-witted French

  Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,

  By magic verses have contrived his end?

  WINCHESTER

  He was a king blest of the King of Kings.

  Unto the French, the dreadful judgement day

  So dreadful will not be as was his sight.

  The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought.

  The Church’s prayers made him so prosperous.

  GLOUCESTER

  The Church? Where is it? Had not churchmen prayed,

  His thread of life had not so soon decayed.

  None do you like but an effeminate prince,

  Whom like a schoolboy you may overawe.

  WINCHESTER

  Gloucester, whate’er we like, thou art Protector,

  And lookest to command the Prince and realm.

  Thy wife is proud: she holdeth thee in awe,

  More than God or religious churchmen may.

  GLOUCESTER

  Name not religion, for thou lov‘st the flesh,

  And ne’er throughout the year to church thou go’st,

  Except it be to pray against thy foes.

  BEDFORD

  Cease, cease these jars, and rest your minds in peace.

  Let’s to the altar. Heralds, wait on us.

  ⌈Exeunt Warwick, Somerset, and heralds with coffin⌉

  Instead of gold, we’ll offer up our arms—

  Since arms avail not, now that Henry’s dead.

  Posterity, await for wretched years,

  When, at their mothers’ moistened eyes, babes shall suck,

  Our isle be made a marish of salt tears,

  And none but women left to wail the dead.

  Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:

  Prosper this realm; keep it from civil broils;

  Combat with adverse planets in the heavens.

  A far more glorious star thy soul will make

  Than Julius Caesar or bright—

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  My honourable lords, health to you all.

  Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

  Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture.

  Guyenne, Compiegne, Rouen, Rheims, Orléans,

  Paris, Gisors, Poitiers are all quite lost.

  BEDFORD

  What sayst thou, man, before dead Henry’s corpse?

  Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns

  Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.

  GLOUCESTER (to the Messenger)

  Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?

  If Henry were recalled to life again,

  These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

  EXETER (to the Messenger)

  How were they lost? What treachery was used?

  MESSENGER

  No treachery, but want of men and money.

  Amongst the soldiers this is mutterèd:

  That here you maintain several factions,

  And whilst a field should be dispatched and fought,

  You are disputing of your generals.

  One would have ling’ring wars, with little cost;

  Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;

  A third thinks, without expense at all,

  By guileful fair words peace may be obtained.

&
nbsp; Awake, awake, English nobility!

  Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot.

  Cropped are the flower-de-luces in your arms;

  Of England’s coat, one half is cut away. ⌈Exit⌉

  EXETER

  Were our tears wanting to this funeral,

  These tidings would call forth her flowing tides.

  BEDFORD

  Me they concern; Regent I am of France.

  Give me my steeled coat. I’ll fight for France.

  Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

  ⌈He removes his mourning robe

  Wounds will I lend the French, instead of eyes,

  To weep their intermissive miseries.

  Enter to them another Messenger with letters

  SECOND MESSENGER

  Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance.

  France is revolted from the English quite,

  Except some petty towns of no import.

  The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;

  The Bastard of Orléans with him is joined;

  René, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;

  The Duke of Alençon flyeth to his side. Exit

  EXETER

  The Dauphin crowned King? All fly to him?

  O whither shall we fly from this reproach?

  GLOUCESTER

  We will not fly, but to our enemies’ throats.

  Bedford, if thou be slack, I’ll fight it out.

  BEDFORD

  Gloucester, why doubt’st thou of my forwardness?

  An army have I mustered in my thoughts,

  Wherewith already France is overrun.

  Enter another Messenger

  THIRD MESSENGER

  My gracious lords, to add to your laments,

  Wherewith you now bedew King Henry’s hearse,

  I must inform you of a dismal fight

  Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.

  WINCHESTER

  What, wherein Talbot overcame—is’t so?

  THIRD MESSENGER

  O no, wherein Lord Talbot was o’erthrown.

  The circumstance I’ll tell you more at large.

  The tenth of August last, this dreadful lord,

  Retiring from the siege of Orléans,

  Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,

  By three-and-twenty thousand of the French

  Was round encompassed and set upon.