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: 10

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 ne'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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60

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

money.

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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 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

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

Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
Bed. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my
forwardness ?
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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 :

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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 armis ;
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. Quo, 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 :

Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; And he may well in fretting spend his gall, Nor men nor money hath he to make war. Char. Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them.

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Now for the honor of the forlorn French!
Him I forgive my death that killeth me
When he sees me go back one foot or fly.
[Exeunt.

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, records,

England all Olivers and Rowlands bred,
During the time Edward the Third did reign.
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samsons and Goliases

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It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would c'er 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

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. 70

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

And fightest with the sword of Deborah. Puc. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.

Char. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:

Impatiently I burn with thy desire;

My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.

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Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
Let me thy servant and not sovereign be:
'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.
Puc. I must not yield to any rites of love,
For my profession's sacred from above:
When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
Then will I think upon a recompense.

Char. Meantime 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?

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Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know:

These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. [you on? Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise 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: 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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Where be these warders, that they wait not here?

Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. First Warder. [Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously?

First Serv. It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.

Second Warder. [Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in.

First Serv. Villains, answer you so the lord protector?

First Warder. [Within] The Lord protect

him! so we answer him:

We do no otherwise than we are will'd.

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Glou. 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? [Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and Woodvile the Lieutenant speaks within. Woodv. What noise is this? what traitors have we here?

Glou. Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?

Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would

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. Serving-men. Open the gates unto the lord protector,

Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.

Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats.

Win. How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this?

Glou. Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? 30

Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor, And not protector, of the king or realm. Glou. Stand back, thou manifest conspir

ator,

Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord;

Thou that givest 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,