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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

up

his hand but conquer'd. 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 glorifie,
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
Conj'rers and forc'rers, that afraid of him
By magick verse have thus contriv'd his end?

Win. He was a King, blest of the King of Kings.
Unto the French, the dreadful judgment day
So dreadful will not be as was his fight.
The battels of the Lord of hosts he fought ;
The church's pray'rs made him so prosperous.
Glou. The church? where is it? had not church.meni

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. Gloʻster, whate'er we like, thou art Protector.
And lookeft to command the Prince and realm ;
Thy wife is proud, she holdeth thee in awe,
More than God or religious church-men may.

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,

a

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 a marish of salt tears,
And none but women left to 'wail the dead.
Henry the Fifth ! thy ghoft 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 Cafar, or bright- +

SCENE II.

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 ?

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If

a nourish.

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,
These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

Exe. How were they lost? what treachery was usid?

Meff. No treachery, but want of men and mony.
Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
That here you maintain sev’ral factions ;
And whilft á field should be dispatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of your generals.
One would have lingring wars with little cost;
Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings :
A third man thinks, without expence at all
By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
Awake, awake, English nobility,
Let not noth dim your honours, new-begot ;
Crop'd are the Flower-de-luces in your arms,
Of England's coat one half is cut away.

Exe. Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
These tidings would call forth † her 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 I will lend the French, instead of eyes, To weep their intermissive miseries.

SCENE III.

Enter to them another Messenger.

2 Mejl. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mir.

chance.
France is revolted from the English quite,
Except some petty towns of no import.
The Dauphin Charles is crowned King in Rheini',
The bastard Orleans with him is join'd:
Reignier Duke of Anjou doth take his part,
The Duke of Alanfon flies to his side.

[Exe.

+England's.

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.

SCENE IV.

a

Enter a Third Messenger.
3 Mes: My gracious lords, to add to your laments
Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearfe,
I must inform

you

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

A 5

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# If Sir John Falstaff had not play'd the coward,
He being in the vaward, (plac'd behind
With purpose to relieve and follow them)
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroak.
Hence grew the gen'ral wrack 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 her chief assembled strength
Durst not presume to look once in the face.

Bed. Is Talbot Nain then? I will Nay my self,
For living idly here in pomp and ease;
Whilft such a worthy leader wanting aid,
Unto his daftard foemen is betray'd.

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

my

friend :
Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
Farewel my masters, to my task will I;
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
To keep our great St. George's feast withal.
Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

3 Mel. So you had need, for Orleans is besieg’d,
The English army is grown weak and faint :
The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply,
And hardly keeps his nien from mutiny,
Since they so few watch such a multitude.

Exe. Remember lords your oaths to Henry sworn :
Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
Or bring him in obedience to your yoak.

Bed. I do remember it, and here take leave, To go about my preparation.

(Exit Bedford.

:

Glom.

+ See the note on the fifth Scene of At 3.

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