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The Parliament.


Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Glofter, Winchefter, Warwick, Somerset, Suffolk, and Richard 5 Plantagenet. Glofter offers to put up a Bill; Winchefter fnatches it, and tears it.


Win. Om'ft thou with deep premeditated

With written pamphlets studiously devis'd,
Humphrey of Glofter? If thou canst accuse,
Or ought intend'st to lay unto my charge,
Do it without invention fuddenly;
As I with fudden and extemporal speech
Purpose to answer what thou canst object.

Glo. Prefumptuous priest! this place commands
my patience,

Or thou shouldst find thou haft dishonour'd me.
Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able
Verbatim to rehearfe the method of my pen:
No, prelate; fuch is thy audacious wickedness,
Thy lewd, peftiferous, and diffentious pranks,
As very infants prattle of thy pride.
Thou art a most pernicious usurer;
Froward by nature, enemy to peace;
Lafcivious, wanton, more than well befeems
A man of thy profeffion, and degree;
And for thy treachery, What's more manifest?
In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
As well at London-bridge, as at the Tower?
Befide, I fear me, if thy thoughts were fifted,
The king, thy fovereign, is not quite exempt
From envious malice of thy fwelling heart.

Win. Glofter, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouchsafe
To give me hearing what I fhall reply.
If I were covetous, perverse, ambitious,
As he will have me, How am I fo poor?
Or how haps it, I seek not to advance

Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
And for diffention, Who preferreth peace
More than I do,-except I be provok'd?
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
It is not that, that hath incens'd the duke:
It is, because no one should sway but he;
No one, but he, should be about the king;
And that engenders thunder in his breast,
And makes him roar these accufations forth.
But he shall know, I am as good-
Glo. As good?

Thou baftard of my grandfather!

Win. Ay, lordly fir; For what are you, I pray,
But one imperious in another's throne?

Gh. Am I not protector, faucy priest?
Win. And am I not a prelate of the church?
Glo. Yes, as an out-law in a castle keeps,
And ufeth it to patronage his theft.

Win. Unreverent Gloster!


Glo. Thou art reverent

Touching thy fpiritual function, not thy life.
Win. Rome fhall remedy this.
War. Roam thither then.

Sem. My lord, it were your duty to forbear.
War. Ay, fee the bishop be not over-borne.
Sum. Methinks, my lord should be religious,
And know the office that belongs to fuch.
War. Methinks, his lordship should be humbler;
10 It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.

Sem. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd fo near.
War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that?
Is not his grace protector to the king?

Rich. Plantagenet, I fee, must hold his tongue;
15 Left it be faid, Speak, firrah, when you should ;
Muft your bold verdiƐt enter talk with lords?
Elfe would I have a fling at Winchester.

K. Henry. Uncles of Glofter, and of Winchester,
The fpecial watchmen of our English weal;
20I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
To join your hearts in love and amity.
Oh, what a fcandal is it to our crown,
That two fuch noble peers as ye, should jar!
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell,
25 Civil diffention is a viperous worm,

That gnaws the bowels of the common-wealth.[A noife within; Down with the tawny coats! What tumult's this?

War. An uproar, I dare warrant,

30 Begun through malice of the bishop's men.

[A noife again, Stones! Stones! Enter the Mayor of London, attended.

Mayor. Oh, my good lords,-and virtuous HenPity the city of London, pity us!


35 The bishop and the duke of Glofter'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 pate,

40 That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:
Our windows are broke down in every street,
And we, for fear, compell'd to fhut our shops.
Enter men in skirmish, with bloody pates.

K. Henry. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, 45 To hold your flaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Glofter, mitigate this ftrife.


1 Serv. Nay, if we be

Forbidden ftones, we'll fall to it with our teeth.
2 Serv. Do what you dare, we are as refolute.
[Skirmish again.
Glo. You of my houfhold, leave this peevish broil,
And fet this unaccustom'd 2 fight afide.

3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man
Juft and upright; and, for your royal birth,
55 Inferior to none, but to his majesty:
And, ere that we will fuffer fuch a prince,

So kind a father of the common-weal,

To be difgraced by an inkhorn mate 3,

We, and our wives, and children, all will fight,

Roam to Rome. 2 Toroam is fuppofed to be derived from the cant of vagabonds, who often pretended a pilgrimage to Rome,


i. e, unfeemly, indecent. 3 i. e. a bookman.


And have our bodies flaughter'd by thy foes.

I Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Begin again. Glo. Stay, ftay, I fay!

And, if you love me, as you fay you do,

Let me perfuade you to forbear a while. [foul!-
K. Henry. Oh, how this difcord doth afflict my
Can you, my lord of Winchefter, behold
My fighs and tears, and will not once relent?
Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
Or who fhould study to prefer a peace,
If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
War. My lord protector, yield;-yield, Win-

Except you mean, with obftinate repulse,

To flay your fovereign, and deftroy the realm.
You fee what mischief, and what murder 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.
Glo. Compaffion on the king commands me ftoop;
Or, I would fee his heart out, ere the priest
Should ever get that privilege of me.

War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke
Hath banish'd moody difcontented fury,
As by his fmoothed brows it doth appear:
Why look you ftill fo ftern, and tragical?

Gle. Here, Winchefter, 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? [gird1.-
War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly
For fhame, my lord of Winchester! relent;
What, fhall a child inftruct you what to do?
Win. Well, duke of Glofter, I will yield to thee;
Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give.

Gio. 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 ourfelves, and all our followers:
So help me God, as I diffemble not!



That Richard be restored to his blood.
War. Let Richard be restored 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, 10 And humble fervice, 'till the point of death.

K. Henry. Stoop then, and fet your knee against
And, in reguerdon 2 of that duty done, [my foot:
I gird thee with the valiant fword of York:
Rife, Richard, like a true Plantagenet;

15 And rife created princely duke of York.


Rich. And fo thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall!
And as my duty fprings, fo perish they
That grudge one thought against your majesty!
All. Welcome, high prince, the mighty duke of

Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York!

Glo. Now will it beft avail your majesty,
To crofs the feas, and to be crown'd in France:
25 The prefence of a king engenders love
Amongst his fubjects, and his loyal friends;
As it difanimates his enemies. [Henry goes;
K. Henry. When Glofter fays the word, king
For friendly counfel cuts off many foes.
Glo. Your hips already are in readiness.


[Exeunt all but Exeter.

Exe. Ay, we may march in England, or in France,
Not feeing what is likely to enfue:
This late diffention, grown betwixt the peers,
35 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 3.
40 And now I fear that fatal prophecy,

Win. [Afide.] So help me God, as I intend it
K. Henry. O loving uncle, kind duke of Glofter, 45
How joyful I am made by this contract!-
Away, my mafters! trouble us no more;

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

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Which, in the time of Henry, nam'd the fifth,
Was in the mouth of every fucking babe,-
That Henry, born at Monmouth, fhould win all;
And Heary, born at Windsor, should lose all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter doth with
His days may finish ere that hapless time. [Exit.

Roan in France.


Enter Foan ia Pucelle difguis'd, and Soldiers with
facks upon their backs, like Countrymen.

Pucel. Thefe are the city gates, the gates of Roan,
Through which our policy must make a breach :-
Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar fort of market-men,
That come to gather money 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.

1 Sel. Our facks fhall be a mean to fack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;
Therefore we'll knock.

2 i. e. recompence, return.


That is, propagate itf if,


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Reig. By thrufting out a torch from yonder tower;
Which, once difcern'd, fhews, that her meaning is,--
No way to that, for weakness, which the enter'd. 15
Enter Jean la Pucelle on a battlement, thrusting out a
torch burning.

Pucel. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch,
That joineth Roan unto her countrymen;
But burning fatal to the Talbotites.

Baft. See, noble Charles! the beacon of our friend,
The burning torch in yonder turret stands.

Dau. Now fhine it like a comet of revenge,

A prophet to the fall of all our foes!

If Talbot do but follow, rain will follow.

[Talbot, and the reft, whisper together in council.
God fpeed the parliament ! who shall be the speaker?
Tal. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field?
Pucel. Belike, your lordfhip takes us then for fools,
To try if that our own be ours, or no.

Tal. I fpeak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest;
Will ye, like foldiers, come and fight it out?
Alen. Signior, no.

Tal. Signior, hang!-bafe muleteers of France!
Like peafant foot-boys do they keep the walls,
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Pucel. Captains, away: let's get us from the walls; For Talbot means no goodness, by his looks.———— God be wi' you, my lord! we came, fir, but to tell you

That we are here.

[Exeunt from the walls. Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long, 20 Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house, (Prick'd on by public wrongs, fuftain'd in France) Either to get the town again, or die: And I,-as fure as English Henry lives,

Reig. Defer no time, Delays have dangerous ends; 25 And as his father here was conqueror; Enter, and cry-The Dauphin!-presently,

And then do execution on the watch.

[An alarum; Talbot in an excurfion.

[tears, 30

Tal. France, thou shalt rue this treafon with thy If Talbot but furvive thy treachery;— Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs, Hath wrought this hellish mifchief unawares, That hardly we efcap'd the pride 3 of France. [Exit. An alarum: excurfions. Enter Bedford, brought in fick, in a chair, with Talbot and Burgundy, with-35 eut. Within, Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Baftard, and Alençon, on the Walls.

Pacel. Good morrow, gallants; want ye corn
for bread?

I think, the duke of Burgundy will fast,
Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
'Twas full of darnel; Do you like the taste?
Burg. Scoff on, vile fiend, and fhameless courtezan!
I trust, ere long, to choak thee with thine own,
And make thee curfe the harveft of that corn.
Dau. Your grace may starve, perhaps, before

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Bed. Oh, let no words, but deeds, revenge this Pucel. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,

And run a tilt at death within a chair?

Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all defpight,
Encompass'd with thy luftful paramours!
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age,
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
Damfel, I'll have a bout with you again,
Or elfe let Talbot perish with this shame.
Pucel. Are you fo hot, fir?-Yet, Pucelle, hold
thy peace;

As fure as in this late-betrayed town
Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried;
So fure I fwear, to get the town, or die.

Burg. My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
Tal. But, ere we go, regard this dying prince,
The valiant duke of Bedford :-Come, my lord,
We will beftow you in fome better place,
Fitter for fickness, and for crazy age.


Bed. Lord Talbot, do not fo difhonour me:
Here will I fit before the walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your weal or woe.
Burg. Courageous Bedford, let us now perfuade
Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read,
That ftout Pendragon, in his litter, fick,

40 Came to the field, and vanquished his fces 4:
Methinks, I fhould revive the foldiers' hearts,
Because I ever found them as myself.

Tal. Undaunted fpirit in a dying breast!-
Then be it fo:-Heavens keep old Bedford fafe!-
45 And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand,


And fet upon our boafting enemy.

[Exeunt Burgundy, Talbot, and forces. An alarum: excurfions. Enter Sir John Faftoife, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away, Sir John Faftolfe, in fuch


Faft. Whither away? to fave myself by fight;
We are like to have the overthrow again..
55 Cap. What! will you fly, and leave lord Talbot?
Faft. Ay,

All the Talbots in the world, to fave my life. [Exit.
Cap. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee


1 Practice, in the language of that time, was treachery, and perhaps in the fofter fenfe, ftratagem. Practijants are therefore confederates in ftratagems. 2 That is, no way equal to that. 3 Pride fignifies the haughty power. + This hero was Uther Pendragon, brother to Aurelius, and father to king Arthur.

Retreat :

Retreat: excurfions. Pucelle, Alençon, and Dauphin fly.

Bed. Now, quiet foul, depart when heaven fhall For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. [pleafe; What is the truft or strength of foolish man? They, that of late were daring with their fcoffs, Are glad and fain by flight to fave themselves.

[Dies, and is carried off in his chair.

An alarum. Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the reft.
Tal. Loft, and recover'd in a day again!
This is a double honour, Burgundy :
Yet, heaven have glory for this victory!

To bring this matter to the wished end.

[Drum beats afar off. Hark! by the found of drum, you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. [Here beat an English march. There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread; And all the troops of English after him.

[French march. Now, in the rereward, comes the duke, and his } 10 Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind. Summon a parley, we will talk with him. [Trumpets found a parley.

Burg. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Enfhrines thee in his heart; and there erects
Thy noble deeds, as valour's monument. [now?
Tal. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle 15
I think her old familiar is asleep: [gleeks?

Now where's the Baftard's braves, and Charles his
What, all a-mort? Roan hangs her head for grief,
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take fome order in the town,
Placing therein fome expert officers;
And then depart to Paris, to the king;
For there young Henry, with his nobles, lies.
Burg. What wills lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But fee his exequies fulfill'd in Roan:
A braver foldier never couched lance,

A gentler heart did never fway in court:
But kings, and mightiest potentates, must die;
For that's the end of human misery.



The fame. The Plain near the City.
Enter the Dauphin, Bastard, Alençon, and Joan la


Pucel. Difmay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered:
Care is no cure, but rather corrofive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while,
And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
We'll pull his plumes, and take away his train,
If Dauphin, and the reft, will be but rul'd.

Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence;
One fudden foil fhall never breed diftruft.

Baft. Search out thy wit for fecret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.

Alen. We'll fet thy ftatue in fome holy place,
And have thee reverenc'd like a blessed saint;
Employ thee then, fweet virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan

By fair perfuafions, mix'd with sugar'd words,
We will entice the duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.


Enter the Duke of Burgundy, marching.
Dau. A parley with the duke of Burgundy.
Burg. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
Pucel. The princely Charles of France, thy coun-
[marching hence.


Burg. What fay'ft thou, Charles? for I am
Dau. Speak, Pucelle; and enchant him with
thy words.
Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of
Stay, let thy humble hand-maid speak to thee.
Burg. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
Pucel. Look on thy country, look on fertile
25 And fee the cities and the towns defac'd [France,
By wafting ruin of the cruel foe!

As looks the mother on her lowly babe,
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, fee, the pining malady of France;

30 Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself haft given her woeful breast!
Oh, turn thy edged sword another way;

Strike thofe that hurt, and hurt not those that help! One drop of blood, drawn from thy country's bofom, 35 Should grieve thee more than ftreams of foreign Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears, [gore; And wash away thy country's stained spots!


Burg. Either he hath bewitch'd me with her
Or nature makes me fuddenly relent. [words,
Pucel. Befides, all French and France exclaims
Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. [on thee,
Whom join'st thou with, but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee, but for profit's fake?
When Talbot hath fet footing once in France,
45 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?
50 And was he not in England prisoner?
But, when they heard he was thine enemy,
They fet him free, without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy, and all his friends.
See then! thou fight'st against thy countrymen,
55 And join'ft with them will be thy flaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wand'ring lord;
Charles, and the reft, will take thee in their arms.
Burg. I am vanquish'd; these haughty words of
Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-fhot, [hers
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;

Dau. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry's warriors;
Nor should that nation boaft it so with us,
But be extirped from our provinces. [France, 60
Alen. For ever fhould they be expuls'd 2 from
And not have title of an earldom here, [work,
Pucel. Your honours fhall perceive how I will

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Act 4. Scene 1.]


So, farewel, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.
Pucel. Done like a Frenchman; turn, and turn
again !!
[us fresh.

Dau. Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes
Baft. And doth beget new courage in our breafts.
Alen. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this,
And doth deferve a coronet of gold. [powers;

Dau. Now let us on, my lords, and join our
And feek how we may prejudice the foe. [Exeunt.

Paris. An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter King Henry, Glofter, Vernon, Baffet, &c. To
them Talbot, with Soldiers.


I do remember how my father said,


A ftouter champion never handled fword.
Long fince we were refolved of your truth,
Yet never have you tasted our reward,
Your faithful fervice, and your toil in war;
Or been reguerdon'd2 with so much as thanks,
Becaufe 'till now we never faw your face:
Therefore, ftand up; and, for these good deferts,
We here create you earl of Shrewsbury;
10 And in our coronation take your place.

Tal. My gracious prince,and honourable 15
Hearing of your arrival in this realm,


I have a while given truce unto my wars,

To do my duty to my fovereign:

In fign whereof, this arm-that hath reclaim'd
To your obedience fifty fortreffes,

Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength,
Befide five hundred prisoners of esteem,—
Lets fall his fword before your highness' feet;
And, with fubmiffive loyalty of heart,
Afcribes the glory of his conquest got,
First to my God, and next unto your grace.


[Exeunt King, Gio. Tal.

Ver. Now, fir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
Difgracing of these colours 3 that I wear
Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st?
In honour of my noble lord of York,-
Baf. Yes, fir; as well as you dare patronage
The envious barking of your faucy tongue
Against my lord, the duke of Somerfet.

Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
Baf. Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
Ver. Hark ye; not fo: in witness, take ye that.
[Strikes bim.

Baf. Villain, thou know'ft, the law of arms

is fuch,

25 That, who fo draws a sword 4, 'tis prefent death;
Or elfe this blow fhould broach thy dearest blood.
But I'll unto his majesty, and crave

K. Henry. Is this the lord Talbot, uncle Glofter,
That hath fo long been refident in France?
Glo. Yes, if it please your majefty, my liege.
K. Henry. Welcome, brave captain, and victo-30
rious lord!

When I was young, (as yet I am not old)

may have liberty to venge this wrong;
When thou shalt fee, I'll meet thee to thy coft.
Ver. Well, mifcreant, I'll be there as foon as you;
And, after, meet you fooner than you would.


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Enter King Henry, Glofter, Winchester, York, Suffolk, 40
Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, Exeter, and Governor
of Paris.

Glo. LORD bishop, fet the crown upon his head.
Win. God fave king Henry, of that name
the fixth !

Gin. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,-
That you elect no other king but him:
Efteem none friends, but fuch as are his friends;
And none your foes, but fuch as fhall pretend 5
Malicious practices against his state:
This fhall ye do, so help you righteous God!
Enter Sir John Faftolfe.

Faft. My gracious fovereign, as I rode from
To hafte unto your coronation,

A letter was deliver'd to my hands,

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Tal. Shame to the duke of Burgundy, and thee!
I vow'd, bafe 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 waft inftalled in that high degree.-
Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest:
This daftard, at the battle of Pataie 6,
When but in all I was fix 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 affault we loft twelve hundred men;
50 Myfelf, and divers gentlemen befide,


Were there furpriz'd, and taken prisoners.
Then judge, great lords, if I have done amifs;
Or whether that fuch cowards ought to wear
This ornament of knighthood, yea, or no.

Glo. To fay the truth, this fact was infamous,
And ill befeeming any common man;

Dr. Johnson on this paffage obferves, that the inconftancy of the French was always the subject of fatire; and adds, that he has read a differtation written to prove that the index of the wind upon our steeples was made in form of a cock, to ridicule the French for their frequent changes. 2 i, e. re warded. 3 This was the badge of a rofe, and not an officer's scarf. prefence-chamber. grofs blunder must be probably imputed to the players or tranfcribers; for the battle of Poitiers was 5 i, e. defign, or intend. 6 Poitiers has been ufed by fome of the editors; but this 4 i. e. in the court, or in the fought in the year 1357, the 31ft of king Edward III. and the fcene now lies in the 7th year of the reign of king Henry VI. viz. 1428. The action of which Shakspeare is now speaking, happened (according to Holinihed)" neere unto a village in Beauffe called Pataie," which we fhould read inftead of Poitiers. "From this battell (adds the fame hiftorian) departed without anie stroke striken, Sir John Faftolfe, the fame yeere by his valiantneffe elected into the order of the garter. But for doubt of mifdealing at this brunt, the duke of Bedford tooke from him the image of St. George and his garter, &c."

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