« PreviousContinue »
THE TEXT OF THE CORRECTED COPY LEFT BY THE LATE
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF SHAKSPEARE
STEREOTYPED BY J. HOWE PHILADELPHIA
M'CARTY & DAVIS, AND H. C. CAREY & I. LEA
THE BEQUEST OF EVERT JANSEN WENDELL
Duke of Gloster, uncle to the king, and protector. Duke of Bedford, uncle to the king, and regent of France.
Thoinas Beaufort, duke of Exeter, great uncle to||
Henry Beaufort, great uncle to the king, bishop of
Winchester, and afterwards cardinal.
John Beaufort, earl of Somerset ; afterwards duke.
Richard Plantagenet, eldest son of Richard, late
earl of Cambridge; afterwards duke of York.
Earl of Warwick. Earl of Salisbury.
Earl of Suffolk.
Lord Talbot, afterwards earl of Shrewsbury.
John Talbot, his son.
Edmund Mortimer, earl of March.
Mortimer's keeper, and a lawyer.
Sir John Fastolfe.
Sir William Lucy.
Sir William Glansdale. Sir Thomas Gargrave. Mayor of London. Woodville, lieut. of the Tower.
Vernon, of the white rose, or York faction.
Basset, of the red rose, or Lancaster faction.
Charles, dauphin, and afterwards king of France.
Reignier,duke of Anjou,and titular king of Naples.
Duke of Burgundy.
Duke of Alençon.
Governor of Paris. Bastard of Orleans.
Master-gunner of Orleans, and his son.
General of the French forces in Bourdeaux.
A French Sergeant. A Porter.
An old shepherd, father to Joan la Pucelle.
Margaret, daughter to Reignier; afterwards mar-
ried to King Henry. Countess of Auvergne. Joan la Pucelle, commonly called Joan of Arc. Fiends appearing to La Pucelle, lords, warders
of the Tower, heralds, officers, soldiers, messengers, and several attendants, both on the English and French.
Scene, partly in England, and partly in France.
That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
SCENE I-Westminster Abbey. Dead march.
Corpse of King Henry the Fifth discovered,
lying in state; attended on by the Dukes of
Bedford, Gloster, and Exeter; the Earl of War-Unto the French the dreadful judgment day
wick, the Bishop of Winchester, Heralds, &c.
Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verses2 have contriv'd his end?
Win. He was a king blessed of the King of kings.
HUNG be the heavens with black,1 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
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,
(1) Alluding to our ancient stage-practice when a tragedy was to be acted
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-
His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
None do you like but an effeminate prince,
Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.
Win. Gloster, whate'er we like, thou art pro-
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 nourish3 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!