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ERE we not restricted by the plan of the present edition of Shakspere from offering more

than a summary of the merits of each play, with such observations as its history may

render necessary, we should yet refrain from entering at much length into the controversy to which this and the two following plays have given rise.

Still, Malone's dissertation, in which he endeavours to convince his reader and himself, that the First Part of “Henry VI.” owes not a word to Shakspere, and that the Second and Third Parts are merely mended by his hand, must not be passed over in entire silence. He grounds his belief, that the First Part was entirely the work of an earlier dramatist, mainly on the circumstance, that there is an unusual amount of mythological allusion in it; more, as he conjectures, than Shakspere had, at the time, to bestow; and that the metre is differently constructed from his later plays. No conclusion, however, against the genuineness of the present play can fairly be drawn from the affluence of mythological or classical allusion contained in it, or from the construction of its metre. Whoever the author, this play was undoubtedly written when Shakspere was a very young man. Supposing it to be his, what more likely than that a youthful poet should be anxious to shew his acquirements (witness the pedantry of his early comedy “Love's LABOUR'S LOST”), or that he should have adopted a structure of verse which Marlow had made so smooth and musical, that his must be a practised ear which can at last detect its monotony and be weary of its sweetness ?

Upon the whole, we incline to think that the three plays of “King Henry VI.” were constructed by one man, and that that man was Shakspere; but that, if he were not the author, he put his mending hand to all three. In the present play, Joan of Arc, speaking of her sword, says

“ The which, at Touraine, in St. Katharine's churchyard,

Out of a great deal of old iron, I chose forth."
Who would not wish to know that Shakspere never wrote so poorly? But when she says, shortly afterwards-

Glory is like a circle in the water,

Which never ceases to enlarge itself,

Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought :"
Who can readily believe that any other but Shakspere produced so exquisite an illustration ?

An old writer, denouncing ambition, compares it to the crocodile, which, he says, continues to grow during its whole existence. This will apply as closely to genius, and eminently so to the genius of Shakspere. How much greater are his mature than his early productions! Let us grant that the present and the two succeeding plays are from his hand. This is to be borne in mind—a young author, diffident, perhaps, of his abilities (certainly unacquainted with their extent), anxious to please, observant of the success of others; he could scarce do aught else than cast an historical play in the mould that was familiar to his audience. Marlow, Peele, and Greene had preceded him ; men not lightly esteemed : let us add, not undeservedly famous : held, we doubt not (the first especially), in veneration by the young Shakspere. What was he to do ?—the not unknowing but the unlearned youth; he, who came out of no university, as the rest had done—what could he do, but follow in their steps ? Time, which brought experience; experience which ripened judgment;—these were present, and lent their aid at the composition of the master's plays.

After enjoying the great historical productions of Shakspere, printed, as they are, in chronological order, we can conceive and sympathise with the disappointment of the reader, when he lights, for the first time, upon the following play. He will see that it is full of action, but deficient in character; that, with the exception of the Bishop of Winchester and the young King, it scarcely aims at individual portraiture. The rest of the personages are alike prominent; distinguished by their names, but not otherwise discriminated. The whole reminds us of an ancient print, without light or shade or perspective, in which the figures are all more or less alike, yet not one like the person designed to be represented, save that, in common with its original, it possesses all the members of a human body.

No edition of this play is known prior to that of the first folio.


DUKE OF GLOSTER, Uncle to the EING. and Protector.
DUKE OF BEDFORD. Uncle to the King, and Regent of Franco
THOMAS BEAUFORT, Duke of Exeter, great Uucle to the KING
HENRY BEAUFORT, great Uncle to the KING, Bishop of Wm

chester and afterwards Cardinal. JOHN BEAUFORT, Earl of Somerset, afterwards Duke. RICHARD PLANTAGENET, eldest son of Richard late Earl of

Cambridge, afterwards Duke of York,
LORD TALBOT ; alt-rwards Earl of Shrewsbury.
Mortimer s Keeper, and a Lawyer.
Mayor of London.
WOODVILLE Lieutenant of the Tower.
VERNON, of the White Rose, or York Faction.
BASSET. of the Red Rose, or Lancaster Factica.
CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France.
R-IGNISR Duke of Anjou, and titular King of Naples
Governor of Paris.
Master Gunner of Orleans, and his sop.
Geueral of the French Forces in Bordeaux.
A French Sergeant.
A Porter,
An old shepherd, Father to JOAN LA PUCXLLR

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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 conqueréd.
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 contrived his end ?
Win. He was a king blessed 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 prayed, His thread of life had not so soon decayed. None do you like but an effeminate prince, Whom, like a schoolboy, you may overawe. 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

Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture :
Guienne, Champaigne, Rheims, Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.
Beil. 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 recalled to life again, These news would cause him once more yield

the ghost. Exe. How were they lost; what treachery

was used ? 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 despatched 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 obtained. Awake, awake, English nobility! Let not sloth dim your honours new begot. Cropped 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 steeléd 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. 2nd 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 joined ; 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 mustered in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is overrun.


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 briglit-

Enter a Messenger. Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all! Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

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