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

 In Paris, Henry enters with his lords Gloucester, Winchester, Exeter, York, Warwick, Suffolk, Somerset, Talbot, and the Governor of Paris. Winchester crowns Henry as the king. Gloucester asks the Governor of Paris to swear allegiance to him and no other. Just then Sir John Fastolf enters with a letter from Burgundy. Talbot sees Fastolf and is enraged because of his cowardice at previous battles. Fastolf wears a Garter on his leg marking him as a member of the Order of the Garter; now Talbot rips this off him: Talbot tells Henry about Fastolf's flight from battle when the British were heavily outnumbered and when he and many other soldiers were taken prisoner; he says that membership in the Order of the Garter used to be awarded to men of noble birth, who were virtuous and who didn't fear death, but Fastolf is not this sort of man, and he sullies the title of knight. Henry calls Fastolf a stain to his countrymen and banishes him. Gloucester then reads Burgundy's letter, in which he announces his intention of joining Charles and abandoning Henry. Henry asks Talbot to march to Burgundy and talk to him, to find out what has driven Burgundy to insult his friends. Talbot departs. Vernon and Basset enter to ask the king for the right to have an armed fight. York asks the king to hear his servant, and Somerset asks him to hear his. Henry inquires into the nature of their complaint. Basset says that, while crossing the Channel, Vernon ridiculed him for the color of his rose, and Vernon says the same of Basset. York asks Somerset to put aside his malice, but Somerset says that York's private grudge will be revealed. Henry marvels at the madness that drives these men to develop such decisive splits for frivolous causes. He asks York and Somerset to overlook their differences and be at peace. York says that the disagreement should be settled first with this fight; Somerset says the disagreement is between only them, and they alone should decide it. Gloucester scolds the lords, saying they should be ashamed for so troubling the king with this ridiculous argument. Exeter urges them to be friends. Henry orders York and Somerset to forget their quarrel and to remember where they are. Here in France, "amongst a fickle and wavering nation", the lords must make an effort not to reveal dissention, for if the French see disagreements among the English forces, then they will again dare rebellion. What a scandal it would be, he says, for leaders of other nations to hear that Henry's men lost France and destroyed themselves over a trifling argument! He reminds them that they must not lose the land that was won with so much bloodshed. Henry takes a red rose from Somerset, saying "I see no reason, if I wear this rose / That anyone should therefore be suspicious / I more incline to Somerset than York. / Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both". Henry determines to persuade them to better behavior by offering them both important positions in the French campaign. He makes York leader of the troops in that part of France, and he orders Somerset to unite the horsemen and the infantry. He urges them to use up their anger against the enemy rather than against each other. Henry and most of his nobles leave. York, Warwick, Vernon, and Exeter remain. They agree that the king spoke eloquently, but York doesn't like it that he chose the red rose of Somerset. Warwick says the king meant no harm. All exit except Exeter, who notes that York did well to keep his complaints to himself while Henry was there. Exeter says that no one yet understands that the arguments among the lords, "this jarring discord of nobility, / This shouldering of each other in the court, / This factious bandying of their favourites, / that it doth presage some ill event". England faces enough of a challenge, Exeter notes, when the crown sits on the head of a youthful and inexperienced king, but it faces doom when division is bred of envy and malice. What begins in confusion will end in ruin, he predicts.

