| ACT I SCENE I | Westminster Abbey. | |
| [
Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the
Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of
France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of
WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, &c
] |
| BEDFORD | Hung 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 scourge the bad revolting stars |
| That have consented unto Henry's death! | 5 |
| King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! |
| England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. |
| GLOUCESTER | 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: | 10 |
| His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; |
| His sparking 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: | 15 |
| He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. |
| EXETER | 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 | 20 |
| 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 | 25 |
| Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him |
| By magic verses have contrived his end? |
| BISHOP OF WINCHESTER | He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. |
| Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day |
| So dreadful will not be as was his sight. | 30 |
| The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: |
| The church's prayers made him so prosperous. |
| GLOUCESTER | The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, |
| His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: |
| None do you like but an effeminate prince, | 35 |
| Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. |
| BISHOP OF WINCHESTER | Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector |
| And lookest to command the prince and realm. |
| Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, |
| More than God or religious churchmen may. | 40 |
| GLOUCESTER | Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, |
| And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st |
| Except it be to pray against thy foes. |
| BEDFORD | Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: |
| Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: | 45 |
| 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 nourish of salt tears, | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| Than Julius Caesar or bright-- |
| [Enter a Messenger] |
| Messenger | My honourable lords, health to you all! |
| Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, |
| Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: |
| Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, | 60 |
| Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. |
| BEDFORD | 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. |
| GLOUCESTER | Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? | 65 |
| If Henry were recall'd to life again, |
| These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. |
| EXETER | How were they lost? what treachery was used? |
| Messenger | No treachery; but want of men and money. |
| Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, | 70 |
| 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 lingering wars with little cost; |
| Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; | 75 |
| A third thinks, without expense at all, |
| By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. |
| Awake, awake, English nobility! |
| Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: |
| Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; | 80 |
| Of England's coat one half is cut away. |
| EXETER | Were our tears wanting to this funeral, |
| These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. |
| BEDFORD | Me they concern; Regent I am of France. |
| Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. | 85 |
| Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! |
| Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
|
| To weep their intermissive miseries. |
| [Enter to them another Messenger] |
| Messenger | Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. |
| France is revolted from the English quite, | 90 |
| Except some petty towns of no import: |
| The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; |
| The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; |
| Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; |
| The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. | 95 |
| EXETER | The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! |
| O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? |
| GLOUCESTER | We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. |
| Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. |
| BEDFORD | Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? | 100 |
| An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, |
| Wherewith already France is overrun. |
| [Enter another Messenger] |
| Messenger | My gracious lords, to add to your laments, |
| Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, |
| I must inform you of a dismal fight | 105 |
| Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. |
| BISHOP OF WINCHESTER | What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? |
| Messenger | O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: |
| The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. |
| The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, | 110 |
| Retiring from the siege of Orleans, |
| Having full scarce six 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; | 115 |
| He wanted pikes to set before his archers; |
| Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges |
| They pitched in the ground confusedly, |
| To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. |
| More than three hours the fight continued; | 120 |
| Where valiant Talbot above human thought |
| Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: |
| Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; |
| Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: |
| The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; | 125 |
| All the whole army stood agazed 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 seal'd up, | 130 |
| If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: |
| He, being in the vaward, placed behind |
| With purpose to relieve and follow them, |
| Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. |
| Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; | 135 |
| Enclosed were they with their enemies: |
| A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, |
| Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, |
| Whom all France with their chief assembled strength |
| Durst not presume to look once in the face. | 140 |
| BEDFORD | Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, |
| For living idly here in pomp and ease, |
| Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, |
| Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. |
| Messenger | O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, | 145 |
| And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: |
| Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. |
| BEDFORD | His ransom there is none but I shall pay: |
| I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: |
| His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; | 150 |
| Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. |
| Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; |
| Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, |
| To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: |
| Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, | 155 |
| Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. |
| Messenger | So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; |
| The English army is grown weak and faint: |
| The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, |
| And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, | 160 |
| Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. |
| EXETER | Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, |
| Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, |
| Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. |
| BEDFORD | I do remember it; and here take my leave, | 165 |
| To go about my preparation. |
| [Exit] |
| GLOUCESTER | I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, |
| To view the artillery and munition; |
| And then I will proclaim young Henry king. |
| [Exit] |
| EXETER | To Eltham will I, where the young king is, | 170 |
| Being ordain'd his special governor, |
| And for his safety there I'll best devise. |
| [Exit] |
| BISHOP OF WINCHESTER | Each hath his place and function to attend: |
| I am left out; for me nothing remains. |
| But long I will not be Jack out of office: | 175 |
| The king from Eltham I intend to steal |
| And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. |
| [Exeunt] |
The Essential Student History Quiz (with answers and illustrations)