ACT I.

SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. 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 :
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His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
His sparking 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 ue'er lift up his hand but conquered.
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 dishonorable 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?

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Win. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings.

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Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day
So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought :
The church's prayers made him so prosperous.
Glou. The church! where is it? Had not
churchmen pray'd,

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.40 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,
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
Than Julius Cæsar or bright

Enter a Messenger.

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Mess. My honorable lords, health to you

all!

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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.
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

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 honors new-begot :
Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
Of England's coat one half is cut away.

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Exe. 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! 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, 90
Except some petty towns of no import:
The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of

Rheims;

The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;

2

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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 ;
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,
If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the cow-
ard:

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He, being in the vaward, placed behind
With purpose to relieve and follow them,
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
Hence grew the general wreck and massacre ;
Enclosed were they with their enemies :
A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
Whom all France with their chief assembled

strength

Durst not presume to look once in the face. Bed. Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, 141

For living idly here in pomp and ease,
Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd.

Mess. O no, he lives; but is took prisoner,

SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers.

Char. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens

So in the earth. to this day is not known:
Late did he shine upon the English side;
Now we are victors; upon us he smiles.
What towns of any moment but we have?
At pleasure here we lie near Orleans;
Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale
ghosts,

Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
Alen. They want their porridge and their
fat bull-beeves :

Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, and REIGNIER.

Char. Who ever saw the like? what men have I !

Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled,

But that they left me 'midst my enemies.
Reig. Salisbury is a desperate homicide;

He fighteth as one weary of his life.
The other lords, like lions wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.

Alen. Froissart, a countryman of ours, re

suppose

They had such courage and audacity?

Char. Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves,

And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:

Of old I know them; rather with their teeth The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. 40 Reig. I think, by some odd gimmors or device

Their arms are set like clocks, still to strike on; Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. By my consent, we'll even let them alone. Alen. Be it so.

Enter the BASTARD of Orleans. Bast. Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.

Char. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.

Bast. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:

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Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand :
A holy maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a vision sent to her from heaven
Ordained is to raise this tedious siege

And drive the English forth the bounds of
France.

The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: What's past and what's to come she can

Re-enter the BASTARD of Orleans, with JOAN LA PUCELLE.

Reig. Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?

Puc. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?

Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;

I know thee well, though never seen before. Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me ; In private will I talk with thee apart.

Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. ΤΟ

Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first

dash.

Puc. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,

My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.

Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased To shine on my contemptible estate:

Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,

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God's mother deigned to appear to me
And in a vision full of majesty
Will'd me to leave my base vocation
And free my country from calamity:
Her aid she promised and assured success :
In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
And, whereas I was black and swart before,
With those clear rays which she infused on me
That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
Ask me what question thou canst possible,
And I will answer unpremeditated:
My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. 90
Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
Char. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy
high terms:

Only this proof I'll of thy valor make,
In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

Puc. I am prepared here is my keen-edged sword,

Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's churchyard, 100

Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. Char. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no

This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: 130
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?
Thou with an eagle art inspired then.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like
thee.

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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 honors;

Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. Char. Presently we'll try; come, let's away about it:

No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. 150 [Exeunt.

SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. Enter the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats.

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To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.
Glou. 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 darest; I beard thee to thy face.

Glou. What am I dared and bearded to my face?

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

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I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly:
Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat:
In spite of pope or dignities of church,
Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.
Win. Gloucester, thou wilt answer this be-
fore the pope.

Glou. 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.

Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! Here Gloucester's men beat out the Cardinal's. men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Mayor of London and his Officers.

May. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates,

Thus contumeliously should break the peace! Glou. Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, 60

Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.

Win. Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, One that still motions war and never peace, O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, That seeks to overthrow religion Because he is protector of the realm, And would have armor here out of the Tower, To crown himself king and suppress the prince. Glou. I will not answer thee with words,

but blows. [Here they skirmish again. May. Naught rests for me in this tumultous strife

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

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Of All manner of men assembled here in arms this day against God's peace and the king's, we charge and command you, in his highness' name, to repair to your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, henceforward, upon pain of death.

Glou. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: But we shall meet, and break our minds at large.

Win. Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure:

Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.

May. I'll call for clubs, if you will not away

Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy.

M. Gun. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged,

And how the English have the suburbs won. Boy. 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 ruled by me :

Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
Something I must do to procure me grace.
The prince's espials have informed me
How the English, in the suburbs close in-
trench'd,