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SCENE 1. 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 GLOSTER, Protector; the Duke
of Exeter, and the Earl of WARWICK; the Bishop of
WINCHESTER, and the Duke of SOMERSET, 6c.

UNG 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 fcourge the bad revolting stars, "That have consented unto Henry's death! Henry the fifth, two 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 fun, fierce bent against their faces. What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech;


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He ne'er lift up his hand, but conquered.

Exe. We mourn in black; Why mourn we not in Henry is dead, and never shall revive: [blood ? l'pon a wooden coffin we attend; And death's dithonourable victory We with our stately pretence glorify, Like captives bound to a triumphant car. What? thall we curse the planets of milhap, That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? Or shall we think the fubile-witted French Conjurers and forcerers, that, afraid of him, By magic verfus have contrivd his end?

Iin. He was a king blett of the King of kings.
Unto the French the dreadful judgment day
Su dreadful will not be, as was his fight.
The battles of the Lord of hotts he fought:
The church's prayer made him so prosperous.
Gło. The church! where is it? Had not church,

men pray'd,
His thrcad of life had not so 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 protoctor; 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'lt, 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 ille be made a nourish of falt 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 Mesenger.
Mell. 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 loft.
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 loft ? is Roan yielded up? If Henry were recall’d to life again, These news would cause him once more yield the

ghost. Exe. How were they lost? what treachery wasus’d?

Mes: 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 dispatch’d, and fought, You are disputing of your generals. One would have ling’ring wars, with little cost; Another would fly Twift, but wanteth wings; I 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:
Crop'd are the fleur-de-luces in your arms;
Of England's coat one half is cut away.

Exe. Were our tears wanting to tỉis funeral, These tidings would call forth their 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 ihe French, initead of eyes, To weep their intermiffive miseries.

Enter to them another Meßenger. 2 Me. Lord, view these letters, full of bad

mischance. France is revolted from the English quite; Except some petty towns of no import : *I'he 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. [Exit

Exe. T'he dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

Glo. We will not fiy, but to our enemies’throats:Bedford, if thou be black, l'll fight it out.

Ded. Glofter, why doubt's thou of my forwardAn army have I muster'd in my thoughts, (nefs? Wherewith already France is over-run.

Enter a third Messenger, 3 Mef My gracious lords--to add to your la

ments, Wherewith you now bedew king Henry's hearse y must inform you of a dismal fight,


Betwixt the stout lord Talbot and the French.

Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame! is't fo? 3. Mej: 0, no; wherein lord Talbot was o'erm

thrown: The circumstance I'll tell you more at large: The tenth of August last, this dreadful lord, Retiring from the fiege of Orleans, Having full scarce fix 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'dout 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 hüman 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 flew :3 The French exclaim'd, The devil was in arms; All the whole army stood ágaz'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 feal'd up, If Sir John Fastolfe had not played 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 : A base Walloon to win the dauphin's grace, Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back;


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