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!
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
Conjurers 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 churchmen
pray'd,

His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
None do you like but an elfeminate prince,
Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.
Win. Gloster, 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.
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 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 Caesar, 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,

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 despatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of your generals.

One would have ling'ring 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 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.

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.

Enter another Messenger.

2 Mess. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mis-
chance,

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:

These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,

He fighteth as one weary of his life.
The other lords, like lions wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
Alen. Froissard, 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?

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 a chiefest stern of public weal.

[Exit. Scene closes.

SCENE II.-France. Before Orleans. 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

Either they must be dieted like mules,
And have their provender tyed 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
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;

་

1

Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death
Rather than I would be so pil'd esteem'd.
In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir`d.

Glo. Peace, mayor; thou know'st little of my wrongs: Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me:
Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king,
Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.
Win. Here's Gloster too, a foe to citizens;
One, that still motions war, and never peace,
O'ercharging your free purses with large fines;
That seeks to overthrow religion,
Because he is protector of the realm,

And would have armour here out of the Tower,
To crown himself king, and suppress the prince.
Glo. I will not answer thee with words, but blows.
[Here they skirmish again.
May. Nought rests for me, in this tumultuous strife,
But to make open proclamation: -
Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst.
Offi. All manner of men, assembled here in arms
this day, against God's peace and the king's, we
charge and command you, in his highness' name,
to repair to your several dwelling-places; and
not to wear, handle, or use, any sword, weapon,
or dagger, henceforward, upon pain of death.
Glo. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law:
But we shall meet, and break our minds at large.
Win. Gloster, we'll meet; to thy dear cost, be sure:
Thy heart-blood I will have, for this day's work.
May. I'll call for clubs, if you will not away:
This cardinal is more haughty, than the devil.
Glo. Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou
may'st.

But, O! the treacherous Fastelfe wounds my heart!
Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
If now I had him brought into my power.
Sal. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain'd.
Tal. With scoff's, and scorns, and contumelious
taunts;

In open market-place produc'd they me, To be a public spectacle to all; Here, said they, is the terror of the French, The scare-crow, that ailrights our children so. Then broke I from the officers that led me; And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, To hurl at the beholders of my shame. My grisly countenance made others fly; None durst come near for fear of sudden death. In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, That they suppos'd, I could rend bars of steel, And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, That walk'd about me every minute-while; And if I did but stir out of my bed, Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd; But we will be reveng'd sufficiently. Win. Abominable Gloster! guard thy head; Now it is supper-time in Orleans: For I intend to have it, ere long. [Exeunt. Here, through this grate, I can count every one, May. See the coast clear'd, and then we will de-And view the Frenchmen how they fortify;

part.

Good God! that nobles should such stomachs bear!
I myself fight not once in forty year. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-France. Before Orleans.'
Enter, on the walls, the Master-Gunner and his Son.
M. Gun. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is be-
sieg'd;

And how the English have the suburbs won.

Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, Howe'er, unfortunate, I miss'd my aim.

M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd
by me:

Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
Something I must do, to procure me grace.
The prince's espials have informed me,

How the English, in the suburbs close entrench'd,
Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars
In yonder tower, to overpeer the city;
And thence discover, how, with most advantage,
They may vex us, with shot, or with assault.
To intercept this inconvenience,

A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd;
And fully even these three days have I watch'd,
If I could see them. Now, boy, do thou watch,
For I can stay no longer.

[Exit.

If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word;
And thou shalt find me at the governor's.
Son. Father, I warrant you; take you no care;
I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
Enter, in an upper chamber of a tower, the Lords
SALISBURY and TALBOT, Sir WILLIAM GLANSDALE,
Sir THOMAS HARGRAVE, and Others.

Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd!
How wert thou handled, being prisoner?
Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd?
Discourse, I pr'ythee, on this turret's top.

Tal. The duke of Bedford had a prisoner,
Called the brave lord Ponton de Santrailles;
For him I was exchang'd and ransomed.
But with a baser man of arms by far,

Let us look in, the sight will much delight thee.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glausdale,
Let me have your express opinions,
Where is best place to make our battery next.
Gar. I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.
Glan. And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge.
Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.

[Shot from the Town. Salisbury and
Sir Tho. Gargrave fall.

Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!
Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woeful man!
Tal. What chance is this, that suddenly hath

cross'd us?

Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak;
How far'st thou, mirror of all martial meu?
One of thy eyes, and thy cheek's side struck off!-
Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand,
That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
Henry the fifth he first traiu'd to the wars;
Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.
Yet liv'st thou,Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail,
One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace:
The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.-
Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!—
Bear hence his body, I will help to bury it.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
Thou shalt not die, whiles--

-

He beckous with his hand, and smiles on me;
As who should say, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French. -
Plantagenet, I will; and, Nero-like,
Play on the lute, beholding the towns barn:
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[Thunder heard, afterwards an alarum.

And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen [Exeunt, bearing out the bodies. Before one of the gates.

SCENE V.-The same.

enter TALBOT.

Tal. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them;
A woman, clad in armour, chaseth them.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls;
Rescu'd is Orleans from the English wolves: -
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
Char. Divinest creature, bright Astraea's daughter,
How shall I honour thee for this success?
Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,
That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
Recover'd is the town of Orleans;

More blessed hap did ne'er befal our state.
Reig. Why ring not out the bells throughout the
town?

Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires,
And feast and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
Alen. All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.
Char. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
For which, I will divide my crown with her:

Alarum. Skirmishings. TALBOT pursueth the Duu-And all the priests and friars in my realm
phin, and driveth him in; then enter JOHN la
Shall, in procession, sing her endless praise.
PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her. Then A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear,
Than Rhodope's, or Memphis', ever was:
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn, more precious
Than the rich-jewel'd cofl'er of Darius,
Transported shall be at high festivals
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory. [Flourish. Exeunt.

Enter LA PUCELLE.

Here, here she comes :- I'll have a bout with thee;
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.
Puc. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace
[They fight.

thee.

Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder,
But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.
Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, cheer up thy hunger-starved men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[Pucelle enters the town, with soldiers.
Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
I know not where I am, nor what I do :
A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists:
So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench,
Are from their hives, and houses, driven away.
They call'd us, for our fierceness, English dogs;
Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.

[A short alarum.

Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
Sheep run not half so timorous from the wolf,
Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.
[Alarum. Another skirmish

It will not be. Retire into your trenches:
You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,

In spite of us, or aught that we could do.

O, would I were to die with Salisbury!

The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
[Alarum. Retreat. Exeunt Talbot and his
forces, etc.

SCENE VI. The same.

А С Т II.
SCENE I. The same.

Enter to the gates, a French Sergeant, and two
Sentinels.

Serg. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant:
If any noise, or soldier, you perceive,
Near to the walls, by some apparent sign,
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.
1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant.
Thus are poor servitors

Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.
(When others sleep upon their quiet beds,)
Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces,
with scaling ladders; their drums beating a dead
march.

Tal. Lord regent, and redoubted Burgundy, -
By whose approach, the regions of Artois,
Walloon, and Picardy, are friends to us,
This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
Having all day carous'd and banqueted:
Embrace we then this opportunity;
As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by art, and baleful sorcery.

---

Bed. Coward of France! - how much he wrongs his fame,

Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,

--

To join with witches, and the help of hell.
Bur. Traitors have never other company.
But what's that Pucelle, whom they term so pure?
Tal. A maid, they say.

Bed. A maid! and be so martial!

Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long,
If underneath the standard of the French,
She carry armour, as she hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with spi

Enter, on the walls, PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.

ALENÇON, and Soldiers.

Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.