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Glou. England ne'er had a King until his time : Virtue he had, deserving to command. His brandish'd sword did blind men with its beams; His arms spread wider than a Dragon's wings : His sparkling eyes repleat with awful fire More dazled and drove back his enemies Than mid-day fun fierce bent against their faces. What should'I say? his deeds exceed all speech : He never lifted
his hand but conquer'd. Exe. We mourn in black, why mourn we not in
Win. He was a King, blest of the King of Kings.
Win. Gloʻster, whate'er we like, thou art Protector.
Glou. Name not religion, for thou lov'st' the Aesh, 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
Enter a Meffenger.
Mel. My honourable lords, health to you all , Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture; Guienne, Champaign, and Rheims, and Orleans, Paris, Guyfors, Poitiers, are all quite loft. Bed. What fay'st thou man, before dead Henry's
coarse ? Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns Will make him burst his lead, and rise from death.
Glou. Is Paris loft, and Roan yielded up ?
1. I can't guess the occasion of the Hemystic, and imperfe&t sensen in this place; 'tis not impossible it might have been filld up with Francis Drake tho that were a terrible Anachronism (as bad as Hector's quoting Aristotle in Troil. and Cress.) yet perhaps, at the time that brave English man was in his glory, to an English-hearted audience, and pronounced by some favourite Astor, the thing might be popular, tho not judicious; and therefore by force Critick, in favour of the author, afterwards ftruck oxt. But this is a mere Night condjefture,
If Henry were recallid to life again,
Exe. How were they lost? what treachery was usid?
Meff. No treachery, but want of men and mony.
Exe. Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
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 I will lend the French, instead of eyes, To weep their intermissive miseries.
Enter to them another Messenger.
2 Mejl. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mir.
Exe. The Dauphin crowned King? all fly to him ? O, whither shall we fly from this reproach :
Glou. We will not Ay but to our enemies throats. Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
Bed. Glofter, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is over-run.
Enter a Third Messenger.
of a dismal fight Betwixt the stout lord Talbot and the French.
Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so ? ' 3 Mes. O no; wherein lord Talbot was o’erthrown. The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. The tenth of August last, this dreadfal-lordRetiring from the siege of Orleans; Having scarce full fix thousand in his troop, By three and ewenty thousand of the French Was round encompassed and set upon. No leisure had he io enrank his men ; He wanted pikes to set before his archers; Instead whereof sharp stakes pluckt out of hedges They pitched in the ground confusedly, To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. More than three hours the fighe continued ; Where valiant Talbot above human thought Enacted wonders with his sword and lance. Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durft stand him, Here, there, and every where, enrag'd he flew. The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms, All the whole army stood agaz'd on him. His soldiers spying his undaunted fpirit, A Talbot ! Talbot ! cried out amain, And rulh'd into the bowels of the battel. Here had the conqueft fully been sealid ups
# If Sir John Falstaff had not play'd the coward,
Bed. Is Talbot Nain then? I will Nay my self,
3 Mel. o no, he lives, but is took prisoner, And lord Scales with him, and lord Hungerford ; Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise.
Bed. His ransom there is none but I shall pay. I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne, His crown shall be the ransom of
3 Mel. So you had need, for Orleans is besieg’d,
Exe. Remember lords your oaths to Henry sworn :
Bed. I do remember it, and here take leave, To go about my preparation.
+ See the note on the fifth Scene of At 3.