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KING Henry VI.
Duke of Gloucester, Uncle to the King, and Protector.
Duke of Bedford, Uncle to the King, and Regent of France.
Cardinal Beauford, Bifhop of Winchester, and Uncle likewise to

the King
Duke of Exeter.
Duke of Somerset.
Earl of Warwick.
Earl of Salisbury.
Earl of Suffolk.
Lord Talbot.
Toung Talbot, his Son.
Richard Plantagenet, afterwards Duke of York,
Mortimer, Earl of March.
Sir John Fastolfe.
Woodvile, Lieutenant of the Tower.
Lord Mayor of London.
Sir Thomas Gargrave.
Sir William Glansdale.
Sir William Lucy.
Vernon, of the White Rose, or York Faktion.
Basset, of the Red Rose, or Lancaster Fa&tion.
Charles, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France.
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, and Titular King of Naples.
Duke of Burgundy.
Duke of Alanson.
Bastard of Orleans.
Governor of Paris.
Master Gunner of Orleans.
Bey, his Son.
An old Shepherd, Father to Joan la Pucelle.
Margaret, Daughter to Reignier, and afterwards Queen to King

countess of Auvergne.
Joan la Pucelle, « Maid pretending to be inspir’d from Heaven,

and setting up for the Championess of France. Fiends, attending her.


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Lórds, Captains, Soldiers, Meffengers, and several Attendants both

on the English and French.

The SCENE is partly in England, and partly in France,


The FIRST PART of (1)


А ст І. SCENE, Westminster-Abbey. Dead March. Entor the Funeral of King Henry the

Fifth, attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloucester, Protector ; the Duke of Exeter, and the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset.

UNG be the heav'ns with black, yield

day to night!
Comets, importing change of times and

ftates, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ; And with them scourge the bad revolt

ing stars, That have consented unto Henry's death! Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long !

England (1) The firft Pare of K. HENRY VI.) The Historical Transactions, contain’d in this Play, take in the Compass of above 30 Years, I must observe, however, that our Authors in the R 2


England ne'er loft a King of so much worth.

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 dazzled 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 ? fhall 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 ?

Wix. He was a King, bleft of the King of Kings.
Unto the French, the dreadful judgment-day
So dreadful will not be as was his fight.
The battles 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-men
His thread of life had not so soon decay'd.
None do


like but an effeminate Prince, Whom, like a School-boy, you may over-awe.

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

Glou. Name not religion, for thou lov'lt the flesh; three Parts of K. Henry VI. has not been very precise to the Date and Disposition of his Facts; but frequently Ahuffled them, backwards and forwards, out of Time.



And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,
Except it be to pray againit 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 ille be made a nourice of salt tears, (2)
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 Cæfar, or bright

Enter a Messenger.
Mef: My honourable lords, health to you all ;
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of Naughter, and discomfiture ;
Guienne, Champaign, and Rheims, and Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, 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 lost, and Roan yielded up ? If Henry were recall’d to life again, These news would cause him once more yield the ghoft.

Exe. How were they lost? what treachery was us'd ?

Mel. No treachery, but want of men and mony. Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,

(2) Our ife be made a Marish of Salt Tears) Thus it is in both the Impressions by Mr. Pope : upon what Authority, I cannot say. All the old Copies read, a Nouriss: and considering it is said in the Line immediately preceding, that Babes tall fuck at their Mothers moist Eyes, it seems very probable that our Author wrote, a Nourice : i. c. that the whole Ine Thould be one common Nurse, or Nouriser, of Tears: and thosc be the Nourishment of its miserable Issuc.



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