Chapter: ACT IV. SCENE 1.

Park. The palace

Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, 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
                                               [GOVERNOR kneels]
    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!
                                   Exeunt GOVERNOR and his train

                    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 th' 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 divers gentlemen beside
    Were there surpris'd 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.
  TALBOT. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords,
    Knights of the Garter were of noble birth,
    Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
    Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
    Not fearing death nor shrinking for distress,
    But always resolute in most extremes.
    He then that is not furnish'd in this sort
    Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
    Profaning this most honourable order,
    And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
    Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
    That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
  KING HENRY. Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy
    doom.
    Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight;
    Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death.
                                                   Exit FASTOLFE

    And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter
    Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.
  GLOUCESTER.  [Viewing the superscription]  What means his
    Grace, that he hath chang'd his style?
    No more but plain and bluntly 'To the King!'
    Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?
    Or doth this churlish superscription
    Pretend some alteration in good-will?
    What's here?  [Reads]  'I have, upon especial cause,
    Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck,
    Together with the pitiful complaints
    Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
    Forsaken your pernicious faction,
    And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.'
    O monstrous treachery! Can this be so
    That in alliance, amity, and oaths,
    There should be found such false dissembling guile?
  KING HENRY. What! Doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
  GLOUCESTER. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.
  KING HENRY. Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
  GLOUCESTER. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
  KING HENRY. Why then Lord Talbot there shall talk with
    him
    And give him chastisement for this abuse.
    How say you, my lord, are you not content?
  TALBOT. Content, my liege! Yes; but that I am prevented,
    I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.
  KING HENRY. Then gather strength and march unto him
    straight;
    Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason.
    And what offence it is to flout his friends.
  TALBOT. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still
    You may behold confusion of your foes.                  Exit

                       Enter VERNON and BASSET

  VERNON. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.
  BASSET. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.
  YORK. This is my servant: hear him, noble Prince.
  SOMERSET. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him.
  KING 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?
  VERNON. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
  BASSET. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
  KING HENRY. What is that wrong whereof you both
    complain? First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
  BASSET. Crossing the sea from England into France,
    This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
    Upbraided me about the rose I wear,
    Saying the sanguine colour of the leaves
    Did represent my master's blushing cheeks
    When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
    About a certain question 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.
  VERNON. And that is my petition, noble lord;
    For though he seem with forged quaint conceit
    To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
    Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him,
    And he first took exceptions at this badge,
    Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
    Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart.
  YORK. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
  SOMERSET. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
    Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.
  KING HENRY. Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick
    men, When for so slight and frivolous a cause
    Such factious emulations shall arise!
    Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
    Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
  YORK. Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
    And then your Highness shall command a peace.
  SOMERSET. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
    Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
  YORK. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
  VERNON. Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
  BASSET. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
  GLOUCESTER. Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife;
    And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
    Presumptuous vassals, are you not asham'd
    With this immodest clamorous outrage
    To trouble and disturb the King and us?
    And you, my lords--methinks you do not well
    To bear with their perverse objections,
    Much less to take occasion from their mouths
    To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves.
    Let me persuade you take a better course.
  EXETER. It grieves his Highness. Good my lords, be friends.
  KING 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 dissension in our looks
    And that within ourselves we disagree,
    How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd
    To wilful disobedience, and rebel!
    Beside, what infamy will there arise
    When foreign princes shall be certified
    That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
    King Henry's peers and chief nobility
    Destroy'd themselves and lost the realm of France!
    O, think upon the conquest of my father,
    My tender years; and let us not forgo
    That for a trifle that was bought with blood!
    Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
    I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
                                         [Putting on a red rose]
    That any one should therefore be suspicious
    I more incline to Somerset than York:
    Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both.
    As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
    Because, forsooth, the King of Scots is crown'd.
    But your discretions better can persuade
    Than I am able to instruct or teach;
    And, therefore, as we hither came in peace,
    So let us still continue peace and love.
    Cousin of York, we institute your Grace
    To be our Regent in these parts of France.
    And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite
    Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot;
    And like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,
    Go cheerfully together and digest
    Your angry choler on your enemies.
    Ourself, my Lord Protector, and the rest,
    After some respite will return to Calais;
    From thence to England, where I hope ere long
    To be presented by your victories
    With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous rout.
                         Flourish. Exeunt all but YORK, WARWICK,
                                                  EXETER, VERNON
  WARWICK. My Lord of York, I promise you, the King
    Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
  YORK. And so he did; but yet I like it not,
    In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
  WARWICK. Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not;
    I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
  YORK. An if I wist he did-but let it rest;
    Other affairs must now be managed.
                                           Exeunt all but EXETER
  EXETER. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
    For had the passions of thy heart burst out,
    I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
    More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
    Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd.
    But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
    This jarring discord of nobility,
    This shouldering of each other in the court,
    This factious bandying of their favourites,
    But that it doth presage some ill event.
    'Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands;
    But more when envy breeds unkind division:
    There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.           Exit

 Henry VI has his coronation at Paris. Confetti all around, yo. Only it would be a tiny bit better if Fastolfe didn't arrive right after with the news that Burgundy has switched sides. Talbot is really angry with Fastolfe. You can see why, of course--it's not so easy to be cheerful when someone's cowardice has led to your imprisonment. Especially if the guy ran away again when you were winning. And now he's back saying one of your most powerful allies has switched sides. Talbot actually tears the garter off Fastolfe's leg. The garter in this case is a symbol of a particular kind of knighthood Fastolfe holds--the knights of the Garter are a particular kind of English knight. Talbot reminds the lords of Fastolfe's cowardice. He apologizes for losing it in front of the king and lords, but he asks if he wasn't right to do it. Gloucester agrees that Fastolfe is pretty cowardly. Talbot describes all the awesome things that used to be true of the knights of the Garter--they used to be "valiant and virtuous" , full of courage, proven in battle, all that good stuff. Fastolfe doesn't deserve to be one of them. The King agrees, strips Fastolfe of his knighthood, and sends him packing, banished on pain of death. They then turn their attention to the letter from Burgundy announcing his defection to the French side. It's not very respectful, for a letter addressed to a king, and the King decides to send Talbot to talk to Burgundy and give him a hard time. Talbot says he would have begged for the assignment if the King hadn't given it, then heads off to argue with Burgundy. Remember Vernon and Basset? They spent the last act fighting over the quarrel between York and Somerset. Now they turn up and ask the king if they can duel each other. The king sensibly says he'd like to know why they want to duel before he makes a decision. They explain the quarrel, mentioning the red and white roses that proved so symbolic earlier. York asks if they can't leave this malice behind. He may be sincere or he may be sarcastic, but either way, Somerset isn't convinced--he assumes York still has a grudge against him and shows little inclination to make peace. The King tries to make peace, but York and Somerset push for a duel first. Somerset says he and York should duel directly, and York literally throws down the gauntlet. Vernon and Basset egg their masters on. Gloucester yells at them for disturbing the King. More politely, he tells York and Somerset they shouldn't duel and proposes another way. Exeter also says York and Somerset should be friends. The King gives a speech, telling them that they should forget the quarrel. He reminds them that they are in France, "a fickle wavering nation" , and says that any disunity will make the French more likely to rebel against the English. He asks them to make up for the sake of his father and his own youth, and he says "let us not forgo/That for a trifle that was bought with blood" , meaning the lands in France. This is all pretty good. Henry is showing leadership, and his rhetoric's not half bad. It's all pretty king-y of him. But then Henry does something suddenly and disastrously wrong: He takes the red rose and pins it on, claiming quite sincerely that he's equally fond of Somerset and York and no one will think he's favoring one over the other. This is kind of like putting on the campaign badge of one presidential candidate the day before the election and saying you don't really care who wins. You may be sincere, but no one's going to believe you. Then Henry VI puts York in charge of this part of France. He also asks Somerset to work with him there and fight their enemies, not each other. The king says he's heading back to England soon but hopes they will be victorious shortly. Afterward, Warwick says the King did a pretty good job at the old oratory. York agrees, but says he isn't too happy about the King wearing Somerset's badge. Warwick says the King didn't mean anything by it, which is likely all too true . York sounds like he would have been pretty unhappy if the King had meant to take Somerset's side over his, but he checks himself and says there are other things to do. Then everyone but Exeter leaves the stage. Exeter speculates to the audience that Richard, Duke of York, may be an angry type; he also says the fighting in the court is a bad sign, and something bad is coming. He says it's tough to make things work when the king is a child, but what makes things really go south is when envy causes strife.

