THE First Part of Henry VI.' was originally printed, | force of simplicity, he might have resoived, with them, under that title, in the folio collection of 1623. Upon to substitute what would more unquestionably gratify the authority, then, of the editors of that edition of “Mr. a rude popular taste,—the force of extravagance. On William Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories, and Tra- the other hand, it was open to him to transfer to the gedies, published according to the true original Copies," dramatic shape the spirit-stirring recitals of the old this drama properly finds a place in every modern edi- chronicle writers; in whose narratives, and especially tion of our poet's works. But since the time of Malone in that portion of them in which they make their chathe English critics have agreed that this play is spu- racters speak, there is a manly and straightforward rious; and Drake, without hesitation, refers to what earnestness which in itself not seldom becomes poetical. Shakspere's friends and editors denominated the Second Shakspere chose this latter course. When we begin to and Third Parts of 'Henry VI.' as the First and Second study the Henry VI.,' we find in the First Part that Parts; and recommends all future editors, if they print the action does not appear to progress to a catastrophe; this first play at all, to give it only in an Appendix. that the author lingers about the details, as one who If we were in the habit, then, of taking upon trust what was called upon to exhibit an entire series of events the previous editors of Shakspere have authoritatively rather than the most dramatic portions of them;-there held, we should either reject this play altogether, or, if are the alternations of success and loss, and loss and we printed it, we should inform our readers that "the success, till we somewhat doubt to which side to assign hand of Shakspere is nowhere visible throughout." We the victory. The characters are firmly drawn, but cannot consent to follow either of these courses. We without any very subtle distinctions,--and their sentiprint the play, and we do not tell the reader that Shak-ments and actions appear occasionally inconsistent, or spere never touched it. The question of the authenticity at any rate not guided by a determined purpose in the of the three parts of Henry VI.' is a very large one, embracing many details. In this edition we are compelled to refer the reader to our Essay on the subject, which accompanies these plays in our Pictorial' and Library' editions. In the humble house of Shakspere's boyhood there was, in all probability, to be found a thick squat folio volume, then some thirty years printed, in which might be read, "what misery, what murder, and what execrable plagues this famous region hath suffered by the division and dissention of the renowned houses of Lancaster and York." This book was Hall's Chronicle.' With the local and family associations that must have belonged to his early years, the subject of the four dramas that relate to the dissention of the houses of Lancaster and York, or rather the subject of this one great drama in four parts, must have irresistibly presented itself to the mind of Shakspere, as one which he was especially qualified to throw into the form of a chronicle history. It was a task peculiarly fitted for the young poet during the first five years of his connexion with the theatre. Historical dramas, in the rudest form, presented unequalled attractions to the audiences who flocked to the rising stage. He had not here to invent a plot; or to aim at the unity of action, of time, and of place, which the more refined critics of his day held to be essential to tragedy. The form of a chronicle history might appear to require little beyond a poetical exposition of the most attractive facts of the real Chronicles. It is in this spirit, we think, that Shakspere approached the execution of the First Part of 'Henry VI. It appears to us, also, that in that very early performance he in some degree held his genius in subordination to the necessity of executing his task, rather with reference to the character of his audience and the general nature of his subject than for the fulfil ment of his own aspirations as a poet. There was before him one of two courses. He might have chosen, as the greater number of his contemporaries chose, to consider the dominions of poetry and of common sense to be far sundered; and, unconscious or doubtful of the writer. But although the effect may be, to a certain extent, undramatic, there is impressed upon the whole performance a wonderful air of truth. Much of this must have resulted from the extraordinary quality of the poet's mind, which could tear off all the flimsy conventional disguises of individual character, and penetrate the real moving principle of events with a rare acuteness, and a rarer impartiality. In our view, that whole portion of the First Part of Henry VI.' which deals with the character and actions of Joan of Arc is a remarkable example of this power in Shakspere. He knew that, with all the influence of her supernatural pretension, this extraordinary woman could not have swayed the destinies of kingdoms, and moulded princes and warriors to her will, unless she had been a person of very rare natural endowments. She was represented by the Chroniclers as a mere virago, a bold and shameless trull, a monster, a witch;-because they adopted the vulgar view of her character,-the view, in truth, of those to whom she was opposed. They were rough soldiers, with all the virtues and all the vices of their age; the creatures of brute force; the champions, indeed, of chivalry, but with the brand upon them of all the selfish passions with which the highest deeds of chivalry were too invariably associated. The English Chroniclers, in all that regards the delineation of characters and manners, give us abundant materials upon which we may form an estimate of actions, and motives, and instruments; but they do not show us the instruments moving in their own forms of vitality; they do not lay bare their motives; and hence we have no real key to their actions. Froissart is, perhaps, the only contemporary writer who gives us real portraits of the men of mail. But Shakspere marshalled them upon his stage, in all their rude might, their coarse ambition, their low jealousies, their factious hatreds,-mixed up with their thirst for glory, their indomitable courage, their warm friendships, their tender natural affections, their love of country. This is the truth which Shakspere substituted for the vague delineations of the old stage. KING HENRY VI.-PART I. PERSONS REPRESENTED. KING HENRY VI. DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent Appears, Act I. sc. 1. Act II. sc. 1; sc. 2. Act III. sc. 2. Mayor of London. Appears, Act I. sc. 3. Act III. sc. 1. VERNON, of the White Rose, or York, faction. THOMAS BEAUFORT, Duke of Exeter, great uncle to the CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King, of France. King. Appears, Act I. sc. 1. Act III. sc. 1. Act IV. sc. 1. Act V. sc. 1; sc. 5. HENRY BEAUFORT, great uncle to the King, Bishop Act III. sc. 1. Act IV. sc. 1. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 5; sc. 6. Act II. sc. 1. Act III. sc. 2; Act V. sc. 2. JOHN BEAUFORT, Earl of Somerset ; afterwards Duke. Appears, Act II. sc. 1; sc. 2. Act III. sc. 2; sc. 3. Act IV. sc. 7. Appears, Act II. sc. 4. Act III. sc. 1. Act IV. sc. 1. LORD TALBOT, afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury. Appears, Act I. sc. 4; sc. 5. Act II. sc. 1; sc. 2; sc. 3. Act III. se. 2; sc. 3. Act IV. sc. 1; sc. 2; sc. 5; sc. 6; sc. 7. JOHN TALBOT, son to Lord Talbot. Appears, Act IV. sc. 5; sc. 6; sc. 7. Mortimer's Keeper. A Lawyer. Appears, Act II. sc. 4. Appears, Act III. sc. 2. Act IV. sc. 1. SIR WILLIAM LUCY. SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE. Governor of Paris. BASTARD OF ORLEANS. MARGARET, daughter to Reignier; afterwards married COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE. JOAN LA PUCELLE, commonly called Joan of Arc. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 5; sc. 6. Act II. sc. 1. Act III. sc. 2; sc. 3. Act IV. sc. 7. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 3; sc. 4. Fiends appearing to La Pucelle, Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and several Attendants both on the English and French. SCENE, PARTLY IN ENGLAND, AND PARTLY IN FRANCE. ACT I SCENE I.-Westminster Abbey. Corneta, importing change of times and states, And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, That have consented unto Henry's death! Glo. England ne'er had a king until his time. a Consented. Probably the word should he spelt concented. To concent is to be in harmony-to act together. 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. Were our tears wanting to this funeral, These tidings would call forth her flowing tides. Bed. Me they concern; regent I am of France: Exe. We mourn in black: Why mourn we not in Give me my steeled coat, I'll fight for France. blood? Henry is dead, and never shall revive: Win. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: Glo. The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, His thread of life had not so soon decay'd; Win. Gloster, whate'er we like, thou art protector; 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, 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; 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 overrun. 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? When at their mothers' moisten'd eyes babes shall suck; No leisure had he to enrank his men; 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. Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all! Bed. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. One would have ling ring wars, with little cost; Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot: a Nourish. Nourice, nourish, nursh, are the same words He wanted pikes to set before his archers; To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. Bed. Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, 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. a Vaward-the van. The explanation of the commentators, such as it is, we give: "When an army is attacked in the rear the van becomes the rear in its turn, and of course the reserv Bed. His ransom there is none but I shall pay : Exe. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, 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, [Exit. Win. Each hath his place and function to attend : [Exit. Scene closes. SCENE II.-France. Before Orleans. Char. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens, Alen. They want their porridge and their fat bull- Either they must be dieted like mules, Reig. Let's raise the siege: Why live we idly here? Nor men nor money hath he to make war. [Exeunt. It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! Char. Let's leave this town; for they are hair. And hunger will enforce them to be more eager : 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 ap- Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? And drive the English forth the bounds of France. What 's past, and what 's to come, she can descry. Char. Go, call her in: [Exit Bastard] But, first, Reignier, stand thou as dauphin in my place: [Retires. Enter LA PUCELLE, BASTARD of ORLEANS, and others. Reig. Fair maid, is 't thou wilt do these wondrous Puc. Reignier, is 't thou that thinkest to beguile me? Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, Char. Sound, sound alarum; we will rush on them. And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, Char. Who ever saw the like? what men have I? Reig. Salisbury is a desperate homicide; Alen. Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, God's mother deigned to appear to me; Char. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high tering a Cheer-countenance. Resolve-be firmly persuaded. And if thou vanquishest thy words are true; Puc. I am prepar'd: here is my keen-edg'd sword, Deck'd with fine flower-de-luces on each side; The which, at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's churchyard, Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. [They fight, and LA PUCELLE overcomes. Char. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon, And fightest with the sword of Deborah. Puc. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. Char. Whoe'er helps thee, 't is thou that must help me: Impatiently I burn with thy desire: My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. Puc. I must not yield to any rites of love, 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? Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know: These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you on? 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. Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. Char. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? Alen. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. Reig. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd. Char. Presently we'll try: - Come, let 's away about it: No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-London. Hill before the Tower. Enter, at the gates, the DUKE OF GLOSTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats. Glo. I am come to survey the Tower this day: Since Henry's death, I fear there is conveyance.b Where be these warders, that they wait not here? Open the gates; 't is Gloster that calls. [Servants knock. "Saint Martin's summer-fine weather in November-prosperity after misfortune. Conveyance-theft. 1 Serv. Villains, answer you so the lord protector? 1 Ward. [Within.] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: We do no otherwise than we are will'd. Glo. 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? Servants rush at the Tower gates. Enter to the gates, WOODVILLE, the Lieutenant. Wood. [Within.] What noise is this? what traitors have we here? Glo. Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? Open the gates; here's Gloster that would enter. Wood. [Within.] Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; The cardinal of Winchester forbids: Glo. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him 'fore me! 1 Serv. Open the gates unto the lord protector; Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. Enter WINCHESTER, attended by a train of Servants in tawny coats. Win. How now, ambitious Humphrey? what means this? Glo. Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor, And not protector of the king or realm. Glo. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator; Thou that contriv'dst to murder our dead lord; Thou that giv'st 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 hudge a foot; This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.b Glo. 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 dar'st; I beard thee to thy face. Glo. What am I dar'd, and bearded to my faceDraw, men, for all this privileged place; Blue-coats to tawny-coats. Priest, beware your beard; [GLOSTER and his men attack the Bishop 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. Gloster, thou 'lt answer this before the pope. Glo. Winchester goose! 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 a great tumult. In the midst of it, enter the Mayor of London, and Officers. May. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, Thus contumeliously should break the peace! a Peel'dan allusion to the shaven crown of the priest. b The old travellers believed that Damascus was the scene of the first murder. |