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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, Bishop of Winchefter, and Uncle likewife to
the King.
Duke of Exeter.
Duke of Somerset.
Earl of Warwick.
Earl of Salisbury.
Earl of Suffolk.
Lord Talbot. -

Young Talbot, bis Son.

Richard Plantagenet, afterward, Duke of York.

Mortimer, Earl of March.

Sir John Faftolfe.

Woodvile, Lieutenant of the Tower,

Lord Mayor of London,

Sir Thomas Gargrave. “

Sir William Glansdale.

Sir William Lucy.

Vernon, of the White Rofe, or York Faction.

Baffet, of the Red Rofe, or Lancaster Faction.

Charles, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France.

Reignier, Duke of Anjou, and Titular King of Naples.
Duke of Burgundy.

Duke of Alanfon.

Baftard of Orleans.

Governor of Paris.

Mafter Gunner of Orleans..

Boy, his Son.

An old Shepherd, Father to Joan la Pucelle.

Margaret, Daughter to Reignier, and afterwards Queen to King Henry.

Countess of Auvergne.

Joan la Pucelle, a Maid pretending to be infpir'd from Heaven, and fetting up for the Championess of France.

Fiends, attending ber

Lords, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and several Attendants both on the English and French.

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


The FIRST PART of (1)


A C T I.

SCENE, 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 Gloucester, Protector; the Duke of Exeter, and the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerfet.



UNG be the heav'ns with black, yield
day to night!

Comets importing change of times and

Brandifh your cryftal treffes in the sky;
And with them fcourge the bad revolt-
ing stars,

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


(1) The first Part of K. HENRY VI.] The Hiftorical Tranfactions, contain'd in this Play, take in the Compass of above, thirty Years, I must observe, however, that our Author, in the



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

Glou. England ne'er had a King until his time:
Virtue he had, deferving to command.

His brandifh'd fword did blind men with its beams;
His arms fpread wider than a Dragon's wings:
His fparkling 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 fhall revive:
Upon a wooden coffin we attend :
And death's difhonourable victory
We with our stately prefencé glorifie,
Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
What? fhall we curfe the planets of mishap,
That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
Or fhall we think the fubtle-witted French
Conj'rers and forc'rers, that, afraid of him,
By magick verse have thus contriv'd his end?
Win. 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 hofts he fought;
The church's pray'rs made him fo profperous.

Glou. The church? where is it? had not church-men pray'd,

His thread of life had not fo foon decay'd.

None do you like but an effeminate Prince,

Whom, like a School-boy, you may over-awe.

Win. Glofter, whate'er we like, thou art Protector. And lookeft to command the Prince and realm; Thy wife is proud; fhe holdeth thee in awe, More than God, or religious church-men may. Glou. Name not religion, for thou lov'ft the flesh;

three Parts of K, Henry VI. has not been very precife to the Date and Difpofition of his Facts; but frequently shuffled them, backwards and forwards, out of Time.


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And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'ft,
Except it be to pray against thy foes.

Bed. Ceafe, ceafe thefe jars, and reft your minds in


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!
Pofterity await for wretched years,

When at their mothers' moift eyes babes fhall fuck;
Our ifle be made a nourice of falt tears, (2)
And none but women left to 'wail the dead!
Henry the Fifth! thy ghost I invocate;
Profper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
Combat with adverfe planets in the heavens!
A far more glorious ftar thy foul will make,
Than Julius Cafar, or bright-

Enter a Meffenger.

Me. My honourable lords, health to you all;
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

Of lofs, of flaughter, and difcomfiture;

Guienne, Champaign, and Rheims, and Orleans,

Paris, Guyfors, Poitiers, are all quite loft.

Bed. What fay'ft thou, man, before dead Henry's

Speak foftly, or the lofs of thofe great towns
Will make him burft his lead, and rife from death.
Glou. Is Paris loft, and Roan yielded up?

If Henry were recall'd to life again,

These news would caufe him once more yield the ghost,
Exe. How were they loft? what treachery was us'd?
Meff. No treachery, but want of men and mony.
Amongst the foldiers this is muttered,

(2) Our Ifle be made a Marish of falt Tears,] Thus it is in both the Impreffions by Mr. Pope: upon what Authority, I cannot say. All the old Copies read, a Nourish: and confidering it is faid in the Line immediately preceding, that Babes shall fuck at their Mothers moist Eyes, it seems very probable that our Author wrote, a Nourice: i. e. that the whole Ifle should be one common Nurse, or Nourisher, of Tears: and those be the Nourishment of its miferable Iffue.

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That here you maintain fev'ral factions;

And, whilst a field fhould be difpatch'd and fought,
You are difputing of your Generals.

One would have lingring wars with little coft;
Another would fly fwift, but wantesh wings:
A third man thinks, without expence at all,
By guileful fair words, peace may be obtain❜d.
Awake, awake, English nobility!

Let not floth dim your honours, new-begot;
Crop'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,
Thefe tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
Bed. Me they concern, Regent I am of France;
Give me my fteeled coat, I'll fight for France.
Away with thefe difgraceful, wailing robes;
Wounds I will lend the French, instead of eyes,
weep their intermiffive miferies.


Enter to them another Meffenger.

2 Me. Lords, view thefe letters, full of bad mifchance. France is revolted from the English quite,

Except fome petty towns of no import.

The Dauphin Charles is crowned King in Rheims,
The baftard Orleans with him is join'd:

Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part,
The Duke of Abanfon flies to his fide.


Exe. The Dauphin crowned King? all flie to him?

O, whither fhall we fly from this reproach ?

Glou. We will not fly but to our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if thou be flack, I'll fight it out.

Bed. Glofter, why doubt'ft thou of my forwardness?
An army have I mufter'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is over-run..

Enter a third. Messenger.

3 Me. My gracious lords, to add to your laments, Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearfe, I must inform you of a difmal fight

Betwixt the ftout lord Talbot and the French.

Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't fo?

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