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from this piece, which is in two parts, (the former of which is entitled 'The First Part of the Contention of the two famous Houses of Yorke and Lancaster, with the Death of the good Duke Humphrey,' etc., and the latter, 'The true Tragedie of Richard Duke of Yorke, and the death of good King Henrie the Sixt,') our Poet formed the two plays entitled 'The Second and Third Parts of KING HENRY VI.,' as they appear in the first folio edition of his works." Malone ascribed one of those parts thus boldly appropriated by Shakespeare, to Greene, and the other to Feele. This theory, wholly founded on supposed internal evidence which had escaped the sagacity of Shakespeare's own age, as well as of Rowe, Pope, and a long succession of the ablest English critics down to Hazzlit, and was rejected by Dr. Johnson, by Stevens and the German commentators, has since received more authority from the high sanction of Hallam, who, concurring with Malone as to the denial of Shakespeare's authorship of the greater part of these plays, pronounces them very justly to be "above the powers of Greene or Peele," and to exhibit “a much greater share of the splendid versification called by Jonson the mighty line of Christopher Marlowe." (Lit. of Europe, ch. v.) Drake, Chalmers, Singer, and several other editors and commentators, have adopted and given currency to this opinion; so that it appeared likely to become the prevailing editorial doctrine, until it was elaborately examined, and triumphantly refuted in a learned and acutely argued Essay, introductory to the Historical Plays, in Knight's "Pictorial" SHAKESPEARE.

The ascription to others of plays which had been before the public during the whole of Shakespeare's dramatic career, and were published as his by those who had both acted and had a pecuniary interest in them; and this under the eye of contemporary authors and actors, without exciting a single direct denial or censure which has reached posterity, would seem to require the most clear and conclusive internal evidence to give it probability. Malone's argument is contained in a long dissertation, printed in the several Variorum editions of SHAKESPEARE. It is founded mainly, as relates to this first part, upon its dissimilarity of versification and phraseology to that of Shakespeare; and its resemblance in those things to the writings of Greene and Peele, etc.; upon the classical allusions and Latin quotations, too learned and too abundant for the unlettered Shakespeare; upon two or three slight historical inaccuracies or discrepancies with the other plays of this series; upon the use of Hall's chronicle as the historical authority, instead of Hollingshed, who is known to have been "Shakespeare's guide;” with some still slighter circumstances.

Much of all this is groundless assertion, and the rest is founded on the uncritical assumption, that we are to judge of the authenticity of the Poet's works only from their congruity with the productions of his matured and practised mind. The dissimilarity of diction and rhythm only show, that these plays were not written by Shakespeare after he had learned to use his native language and its verse as a master and creator, and had impressed upon them his own genius, when that genius had been matured and developed by meditation and repeated exercise. They show that, like other great authors and artists, he first used the instruments of his art as he found them, before he remodelled them for grander and more exquisite purposes. They prove, what we know from positive external evidence, that these plays could not have been written by the Shakespeare of 1608 or 1610, while they are such as he might well have written in 1590, in his twenty-fifth year. The classical reading is not more abundant than we find it in several of his earlier plays, as, for example, in LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. The historical discrepancies are precisely such as are common in all prolific and rapid writers. The use of Hall at one time, and Hollingshed at another, would prove nothing; but the later plays show that though their author used the later historian, he had before used and consulted the older chronicler.

But as this theory, groundless as it seems to me, has received high critical sanction, its details may demand a more minute examination,—which can best be given when taken in connection with Malone's theory and arguments as to the two succeeding parts of HENRY VI., and is therefore deferred to the Introductory Remarks on the third part.

But, allowing Malone's argument its greatest force, the positive contemporary proof of authorship, as above stated, is far too strong to be overthrown by mere conjectural arguments. Besides this, the continuous connection of these parts with the undoubted histories, is a "tower of strength;" and when we regard this first part as Shakespeare's first effort, and that a youthful one, in historical tragedy,-bearing the same relation to HENRY IV. and RICHARD III., in style and vigour, that the Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA does to his great poetical comedies, we shall find that the internal evidence corresponds perfectly with the positive external testimony to its authenticity. 149* 7

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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 GLOSTER, Protector; the Duke of EXETER; WARWICK; the Bishop of Winchester; the Duke of SOMERSET; 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.

Glo. 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.

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
Conjurors and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verses have contriv'd his end?

Win. He was a king, bless'd of the King of kings.
Unto the French the dreadful judgment 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.
Glo. The church! where is it? Had not church-
men 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. Gloster, whate'er we like, thou art pro-

tector,

And lookest to command the prince, and realm.
Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
More than God, or religious churchmen may.

Glo. Name not religion, for thou lov'st 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 marish 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.

Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all.
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:
Guienne, Champaigne, 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.
Glo. 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 us'd?

Mess. No treachery; but want of men and money.
Among 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 man 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 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 will I lend the French instead of eyes, To weep their intermissive miseries.

Enter another Messenger.

2 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?
Glo. We will not fly, but to our enemies'
throats.-

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

Bed. Gloster, 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.

3 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! 3 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;
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, enrag'd he slew.
The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms;
All the whole army stood agaz'd 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 coward:
He being in the vaward, plac'd 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,
For living idly here in pomp and ease,
Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his dastard foe-men is betray'd.

3 Mess. 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.-
Farewell, my masters; to my task will I.
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
To keep our great Saint George's feast withal:
Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.
3 Mess. So you had need; for Orleans is be-
sieg'd.

The English army is grown weak and faint;
The earl of Salisbury craveth supply,

And hardly keeps his men 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 yoke.

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

[Exit.

Glo. I'll to the Tower, with all the haste I

can,

To view th' artillery and munition;

And then I will proclaim young Henry king. [Exit.
Exe. To Eltham will I, where the young king is,
Being ordain'd his special governor;
And for his safety there I'll best devise.

[Exit.

Win. Each hath his place and function to attend :
I am left out; for me nothing remains.
But long I will not be Jack-out-of-office :
The king from Eltham I intend to send,
And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.

SCENE II.-France. Before Orleans. Flourish.

Alarums; excursions; afterwards a retreat. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, REIGNIER, and others.

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 Goliasses,

It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
Lean raw-bon'd rascals! who would e'er suppose
They had such courage and audacity?

Char. Let's leave this town; for they are hair-
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.
Reig. I think, by some odd gimmals, 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 e'en 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:

Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
[Exit. Be not dismay'd, for succour 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 descry.
Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
For they are certain and unfallible.

Enter CHARLES, with his Forces;
ALENÇON, REIGNIER, and others.

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:

Either they must be dieted like mules,
And have their provender tied to their mouths,
Or piteous they will look like drowned mice.
Reig. Let's raise the siege. Why live we idly
here?

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.

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

Char. Go, call her in.-[Exit Bastard.]-But
first, to try her skill,

Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place:
Question her proudly, let thy looks be stern.
By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.
[Retires.

Enter LA PUCELLE, Bastard of Orleans, and
others.

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 amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me:
In private will I talk with thee apart.-
Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
Puc. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daugh-

ter,

My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.

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