K. Hen. Prepare we for our marriage on which day, My lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath, And all the peers', for safety of our leagues. Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me; And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!

EPILOGUE.

Enter Chorus.

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[Sennet. Exeunt.

Chor. Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
Our bending author hath pursued the story,
In little room confining mighty men,

Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
Small time, but in that small most greatly lived
This star of England: Fortune made his sword;
By which the world's best garden he achieved,
And of it left his son imperial lord.
Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crowned King
Of France and England, did this king succeed;
Whose state so many had the managing,

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That they lost France and made his England bleed: Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take.

[Ex it.

THE FIRST PART OF

KING HENRY THE SIXTH.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

KING HENRY the Sixth.
DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to
the King, and Protector.
DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the
King, and Regent of France.
THOMAS BEAUFORT, Duke of Exe-
ter, great-uncle to the King.
HENRY BEAUFORT, a great-uncle
to the King, Bishop of Winches-
ter, and afterwards Cardinal.
JOHN BEAUFORT, Earl, afterwards
Duke, of Somerset.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Son of
Richard late Earl of Cam-
bridge, afterwards
York.

EARL OF WARWICK.

EARL OF SALISBURY.

EARL OF SUFFOLK.

Duke of

LORD TALBOT, afterwards Earl of
Shrewsbury.

JOHN TALBOT, his son.

EDMUND MORTIMER, Earl of March.
SIR JOHN FASTOLFE.

SIR WILLIAM LUCY.

SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE.
SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE
Mayor of London.

WOODVILE, Lieutenant of the
Tower.

VERNON, of the White-Rose or
York faction.

MARGARET, daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to King Henry.

COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE.

JOAN LA PUCELLE, commonly
called Joan of Arc.

Lords, Warders of the Tower,
Heralds, Officers, Soldiers,
Messengers, and Attendants.

Fiends appearing to La Pucelle.

SCENE: Partly in England, and partly in France.

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, Heralds, &c.

Bed. 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.

Glou. England ne'er had a king until his time.
Virtue he had, deserving to command:

His brandish'd 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 mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces

What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:

He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

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Exe. 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?

Win. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings.
Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day

So dreadful will not be as was his sight.

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The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:

The church's prayers made him so prosperous.

pray'd,

Glou. The church! where is it? Had not churchmen

His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:

None do you like but an effeminate prince,

Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.

Win. 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.

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Glou. Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh,

And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st
Except it be to pray against thy foes.

Bed. Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds, in peace: Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:

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' moist eyes babes shall suck,

Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,

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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
Then Julius Cæsar or bright

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all! Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture:

Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,

Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

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Bed. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?

Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns

Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
Glou. Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up?

If Henry were.recall'd to life again,

These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. Exe. How were they lost? what treachery was used? Mess. No treachery; but want of men and money.

Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,

That here you maintain several factions,

And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of your generals:

One would have lingering 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 obtain'd.
Awake, awake, English nobility!

Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot:
Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
Of England's coat one half is cut away.

Ere. Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
Bed. Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

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Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
To weep their intermissive miseries.

Enter to them another Messenger.

Mess. 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 Orleans with him is join'd;

Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;

The Duke of Alençon flieth to his side.

Exe. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

Glou. We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.

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

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Bed. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,

Wherewith already France is overrun.

Enter another Messenger.

Mess. 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.

Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?
Mess. 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 Orleans,

Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,

By three and twenty thousand of the French
Was round encompassed and set upon.
No leisure had he to enrank his men;

He wanted pikes to set before his archers;

Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges
They pitched in the ground confusedly,

To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
More than three hours the fight continued;

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120

Where valiant Talbot above human thought

Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:

Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew:
The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms;

All the whole army stood agazed on him;
His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit
A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain
And rush'd into the bowels of the battle.
Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up,

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