The Dramatic Works

Char. Mean time, look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.

Reig. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. Alen. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;

Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?

Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do

know:

These women
are shrewd tempters with their
tongues.
Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you
on?

Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

Puc. Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.
Char. What she says, I'll confirm; we'll fight

it out.

Puc. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
This night the siege assuredly I'll raise :
Expect Saint Martin's summer,' halcyon days,
Since I have entered into these wars.
Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.
With Henry's death, the English circle ends;
Dispersed are the glories it included.
Now am I like that proud insulting ship,
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.

Char. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?
Though with an eagle art inspired then.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee.
Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,
How may I reverently worship thee enough?

Alen. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
Reig. Woman, do what thou canst to save our
honours;

Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd.
Char. Presently we'll try:-Come, let's away
about it:

No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. [Exe.
SCENE III.-London. Hill before the Tower.
Enter, at the gates, the Duke of Gloster, with
his serving-men in blue coats.

Glo. I am come to survey the Tower this day;
Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance.
Where be these warders, that they wait not here?
Open the gates; Gloster it is that calls.

[Servants knock. 1 Ward. [Within.] Who is there that knocks so imperiously?

1 Serv. It is the noble duke of Gloster.

2 Ward. [Within.] Whoe'er he be, you may

not be let in.

1 Serv. Answer you so the lord protector, villains? 1 Ward. [Within.] The Lord protect him! so we answer him:

We do no otherwise than we are will'd.

Glo. Who willed you? or whose will stands but
mine?

There's none protector of the realm, but I.-
Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize :
Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms?

Glo. Lieutenant, is it you, whose voice I hear?
Open the gates; here's Gloster, that would enter.
Wood. Within.] Have patience, noble duke:
I may not open:

The cardinal of Winchester forbids:
From him I have express commandment,
That thou, nor none of thine, shall be let in.
Glo. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him 'fore
me?

Arrogant Winchester? that haughty prelate,
Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could
brook?

Thou art no friend to God, or to the king:
Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly.

1 Serv. Open the gates unto the lord protector;
Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not
Enter Winchester, attended by a train of servants,
quickly.
in tawny-coats.

Win. How now, ambitious Humphrey? what means this?

Glo. Piel'd priest, dost thou command me to be
shut out?

Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor,
And not protector of the king or realm.

Glo. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
Thou that contriv'dst to murder our dead lord;
Thou, that giv'st whores indulgences to sin:
I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

Win. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a
foot;

This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain,
To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.

Glo. I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back:
Thy scarlet robes, as a child's bearing-cloth,
I'll use to carry thee out of this place.

Win. Do what thou dar'st; I beard thee to thy
face.

Glo. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my
face?

Draw, men, for all this privileged place;
Blue-coats to tawny-coats. Priest, beware your
beard;

[Gloster and his men attack the bishop.
I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly:
Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat;
Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.`
In spite of pope or dignities of church,
Win. Gloster, thou'lt answer this before the pope.
Glo. Winchester goose, I cry-a rope! a rope!
Now beat them hence, why do you let them stay?
Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.-
Here a great tumult. In the midst of it, enter
Out, tawney-coats!-out, scarlet hypocrite!
the Mayor of London, and officers.

May. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme ma-
gistrates,

Thus contumeliously should break the peace!
Glo. Peace, mayor; thou knowest little of my

wrongs:

Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king
Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use,
Win. Here's Gloster too, a foe to citizens:

Servants rush at the Tower gates. Enter, to the One that still motions war, and never peace,

gates, Woodville, the lieutenant.

O'ercharging your free purses with large fines;

Wood. [Within.] What noise is this? what trai-That seeks to overthrow religion,

tors have we here?

(1) Expect prosperity after misfortune.

(2) Meaning the four daughters of Philip, mentioned in Acts xxi, 9,

(3) Theft.

(4) Break open.

(5) Alluding to his shaven crown. (6) Traitor.
(7) Sift.
(8) A strumpet.

An allusion to the bishop's habit.

Because he is protector of the realm;
And would have armour here out of the Tower,
To crown himself king, and suppress the prince.
Glo. I will not answer thee with words, but blows.
[Here they skirmish again.
May. Nought rests for me, in this tumultuous
strife,

But to make open proclamation:-
Come, Officer; as loud as e'er thou canst.

Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death,
Rather than I would be so pil'd esteem'd."
In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd.
But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart!
Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
If I now had him brought into my power.

Sal. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert enter-
tain'd.

Tal. With scoffs, and scorns, and contumelious
taunts.

Off. All manner of men, assembled here in arms In open market-place produc'd they me,
this day, against God's peace and the king's, we To be a public spectacle to all;
charge and command you, in his highness' name,
to repair to your several dwelling-places; and Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
not to wear, handle, or use, any sword, weapon,
or dagger, henceforward, upon pain of death.
Glo. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law:
But we shall meet, and break our minds at large.
Win. Gloster, we'll meet; to thy dear cost, be

sure:

Then broke I from the officers that led me;
The scarc-crow that affrights our children so.
And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground,
To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
My grisly countenance made others fly;
None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
In iron walls they deem'd me not secure ;
So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread,
:-That they supposed, I could rend bars of steel,
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
That walk'd about me every minute-while;
And if I did but stir out of my bed,
Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.

Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.
May. I'll call for clubs,' if you will not away
This cardinal is more haughty than the devil.
Glo. Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou
may'st.

Win. Abominable Gloster! guard thy head;
For I intend to have it ere long.

[Exeunt.

May. See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart.

bear! [Exeunt.

Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd,
But we will be reveng'd sufficiently.
Now it is supper-time in Orleans:
Here, through this grate, I can count every one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify;
Enter Let us look in, the sight will much delight thee.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and sir William Glansdale,
Let me have your express opinions,

Good God! that nobles should such stomachs
I myself fight not once in forty year.
SCENE IV.-France. Before Orleans.
on the walls, the Master-Gunner and his Son.
M. Gun. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is
besieg'd:

And how the English have the suburbs won.

Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, Howe'er, unfortunate, I miss'd my aim.

M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd
by me:

Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
Something I must do, to procure me grace:3
The prince's espials have inform'd me,

How the English, in the suburbs close entrench'd,
Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars
In yonder tower, to overpeer the city;
And thence discover, how, with most advantage,
They may vex us, with shot, or with assault.
To intercept this inconvenience,

A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd;
And fully even these three days have I watch'd,
If I could see them. Now, boy, do thou watch,
For I can stay no longer.

[Exit.

If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word;
And thou shalt find me at the governor's.
Son. Father, I warrant you; take you no care;
I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
Enter, in an upper chamber of a tower, the Lords
Salisbury and Talbot, Sir William Glansdale,
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and others.

Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd!
How wert thou handled, being prisoner?
Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd!
Discourse, I pr'ythee, on this turret's top.

Tal. The duke of Bedford had a prisoner,
Called the brave lord Ponton de Santrailles;
For him I was exchang'd and ransomed.
But with a baser man of arms by far,
Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me:

(1) That is, for peace-officers armed with clubs or staves.

Where is best place to make our battery next.

Gar. I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.

Glan. And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge.
Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
Or with slight skirmishes enfeebled.

[Shot from the town. Salisbury and Sir
Thomas Gargrave fall.
Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!
Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man!
Tal. What chance is this, that suddenly hath

cross'd us?

Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak;
How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men!
One of thy eyes, and thy cheek's side struck off!-
Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand,
That hath contrived this woful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
Henry the Fifth he first trained to the wars;
Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.-
Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth
fail,

The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.-
One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace:
Heaven be thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury want mercy at thy hands!-
Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
Thou shalt not die, whiles-

He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me;
As who should say, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.-
Plantaganet, I will; and Nero-like,

Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn:
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[Thunder heard: afterwards an alarum. What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? Whence cometh this alarum, and the noise?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd head:

The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,-
A holy prophetess new risen up,-
Is come with a great power to raise the siege.
[Salisbury groans.
Tal. Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan!
It irks his heart he cannot be reveng'd.-
Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you;-
Pucelle or puzzel,' dolphin or dogfish,
Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels,
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.-
Convey me Salisbury into his tent,
And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen
dare. [Exeunt, bearing out the bodies.

SCENE V.-The same. Before one of the gates. Alarum. Skirmishings. Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him in then enter Joan la Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot.

Tal. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?

Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them;
A woman, clad in armour, chaseth them.

Enter La Pucelle.

Here, here she comes:- -I'll have a bout with thee:
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
Blood will I draw on thee,2 thou art a witch,
And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.
Puc. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace
thee.
[They fight.
Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder,
But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.

Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go; cheer up thy hunger-starved men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[Pucelle enters the town, with soldiers. Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;

I know not where I am, nor what I do:
A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists;
So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench,
Are from their hives, and houses, driven away.
They called us, for our fierceness, English dogs;
Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.

[A short alarum.
Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
Sheep run not half so timorous from the wolf,
Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.

[Alarum. Another skirmish. It will not be :-retire into your trenches:

You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.-
Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,

In spite of us, or aught that we could do.
O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
[Alarum. Retreat. Exeunt Talbot and his
forces, &c.

SCENE VI. The same. Enter, on the walls, Pucelle, Charles, Reignier, Alençon, and soldiers. Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Rescu'd is Orleans from the English wolves:Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.

Char. Divinest creature, bright Astræa's daughter, How shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens, That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next.France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess !Recover'd is the town of Orleans: More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.

Reig. Why ring not out the bells throughout the town? Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires, And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.

Alen. All France will be replete with mirth and joy,

When they shall hear how we have played the men,
Char. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
For which, I will divide my crown with her
And all the priests and friars in my realm
Shall, in procession, sing her endless praise.
A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear,
Than Rhodope's, or Memphis', ever was:
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her ashes in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewel'd coffer of Darius,
Transported shall be at high festivals,
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
Come in; and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory. [Flourish. Exe.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-The same. Enter, to the gates, a French Sergeant, and two Sentinels.

Serg. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant: If any noise, or soldier, you perceive, Near to the walls, by some apparent sign, Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. 1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Serg.] Thus are poor servitors

(When others sleep upon their quiet beds,) Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, and forces, with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead march.

Tal. Lord regent,—and redoubted Burgundy,By whose approach, the regions of Artois, Walloon, and Picardy, are friends to us,This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, Having all day carous'd and banqueted: Embrace we then this opportunity; As fitting best to quittance their deceit, Contriv'd by art, and baleful sorcery.

(3) The same as guard-room.

Bed. Coward of France!-how much he wrongs [I was employ'd in passing to and fro,

his fame,

Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,

To join with witches, and the help of hell.
Bur. Traitors have never other company.-
But what's that Pucelle, whom they term so pure?
Tal. A maid, they say.
Bed.

A maid? and be so martial?
Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long:
If underneath the standard of the French,
She carry armour, as she hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practice and converse with spirits:

God is our fortress; in whose conquering name, Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.

Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. Tal. Not altogether: better far, I guess, That we do make our entrance several ways; That, if it chance the one of us do fail, The other yet may rise against their force. Bed. Agreed; I'll to yon corner.

Bur.

And I to this. Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his

The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, Bastard, Alençon, Reignier, half ready, and half unready.

Alen. How now, my lords! what, all unready' so? Bast. Unready? ay, and glad we scap'd so well. Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,

Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors.

About relieving of the sentinels:

Then how, or which way, should they first break in 7
Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How, or which way; 'tis sure, they found some
place

But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there rests no other shift but this,-
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them.
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying, A
Talbot! a Talbot! They fly, leaving their

clothes behind.

SCENE II-Orleans. Within the town. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, a Captain, and others.

Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [Retreat sounded, Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury; And here advance it in the market-place, The middle centre of this cursed town.Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him, There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And, that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, Within their chiefest temple I'll erect A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: Upon the which, that every one may read, Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans; The treacherous manner of his mournful death, And what a terror he had been to France. But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow'd arms, muse, we met not with the dauphin's grace;

Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
More venturous, or desperate, than this.

Bast. I think, this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him.
Alen. Here cometh Charles; I marvel, how he
sped.

Enter Charles and La Pucelle.

Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard. Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our loss might be ten times so much? Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?

At all times will you have my power alike?
Sleeping, or waking, must I still prevail,
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?-
Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.

Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your default;
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alen. Had all your quarters been as safely kept, As that whereof I had the government, We had not been thus shamefully surpris'd. Bast. Mine was secure. Reig. And so was mine, my lord. Char. And, for myself, most part of all this night, Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,

His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc; Nor any of his false confederates.

Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight

began,

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
They did, amongst the troops of armed men,
Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern,
For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night,)
Am sure, I scar'd the dauphin and his trull;
When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves,
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We'll follow them with all the power we have.

Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.-
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for, when a world of

men

Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-rul'd:-
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks;
And in submission will attend on her.-
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will :
And I have heard it said,-Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]—You perceive
my mind.

Cap. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly.

[Exeunt. SCENE III-Auvergne. Court of the castle. Enter the Countess and her Porter.

Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And, when you have done so, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will. [Exit. Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit, As Scythian Thomyris by Cyrus' death. Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight, And his achievements of no less account; Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, To give their censure' of these rare reports. Enter Messenger and Talbot.

Mess. Madam,

According as your ladyship desir'd,

By message crav'd, so is lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome. What! is this the] man?

Mess. Madam, it is. Count.

Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes?
I see, report is fabulous and false,

I thought, I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspéct,
And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this a child, a silly dwarf':

It cannot be, this weak and writhled2 shrimp,
Should strike such terror to his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I'll sort some other time to visit you.

Count. What means he now?-Go ask him whither he goes?

Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot: for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, I go to certify her, Talbot's here.

Re-enter Porter, with keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Tal. Prisoner! to whom? Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my gallery thy picture hangs: But now the substance shall endure the like; And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, That hast by tyranny, these many years, Wasted our country, slain our citizens,

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond,3
To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow,
Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal.

I am indeed.
Count. Then have I substance too.

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here;
For what you see, is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity:

I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,

Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.
Count. This is a riddling merchant for the
nonce ;4

He will be here, and yet he is not here:
How can these contrarieties agree?

Tal. That will I show you presently.
He winds a horn. Drums heard; then a peal of
ordnance. The gates being forced, enter soldiers.
That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
How say you, madam? are you now persuaded,

These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength,
With which he yoketh your rebellious necks;
Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns,
And in a moment makes them desolate.

Count. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse:
I find, thou art no less than fame hath bruited;
And more than may be gather'd by thy shape.
Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath;
For I am sorry, that with reverence

I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue
The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done, hath not offended me:
No other satisfaction do I crave,

But only (with your patience,) that we may
Taste of your wine, and see what cates you have;
For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.

Count. With all my heart: and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in my house. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-London. The Temple Garden. Enter the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick; Richard Plantagenet, Vernon, and another Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suff. Within the Temple hall we were too loud, The garden here is more convenient.

Plan. Then say at once, if I maintain'd the truth; Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error? Suff. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law; And never yet could frame my will to it; And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.

Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us.

War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher

pitch;

Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
Between two blades, which bears the better temper;
Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye;
I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judginent;

(5) Announced loudly.

(6) i. e. Regulate his motions most adroitly.

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