Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle; if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.
King Henry V
Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.
Burgundy
They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.
King Henry V
Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent winking.
Burgundy
I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well summered and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.
King Henry V
This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer; and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end and she must be blind too.
Burgundy
As love is, my lord, before it loves.
King Henry V
It is so: and you may, some of you, thank love for my blindness, who cannot see many a fair French city for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
French King
Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls that war hath never entered.
King Henry V
Shall Kate be my wife?
French King
So please you.
King Henry V
I am content; so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her: so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show me the way to my will.
French King
We have consented to all terms of reason.
King Henry V
Is’t so, my lords of England?
Westmoreland
The king hath granted every article:
His daughter first, and then in sequel all,
According to their firm proposed natures.
Exeter
Only he hath not yet subscribed this: Where your majesty demands, that the King of France, having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form and with this addition in French, Notre trescher fils Henri, Roi d’Angleterre, Heritier de France; and thus in Latin, Praeclarissimus filius noster Henricus, Rex Angliae, et Haeres Franciae.
French King
Nor this I have not, brother, so denied,
But your request shall make me let it pass.
King Henry V
I pray you then, in love and dear alliance,
Let that one article rank with the rest;
And thereupon give me your daughter.
French King
Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms
Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
With envy of each other’s happiness,
May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord
In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
His bleeding sword ’twixt England and fair France.
All
Amen!
King Henry V
Now, welcome, Kate: and bear me witness all,
That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
Flourish
Queen Isabel
God, the best maker of all marriages,
Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one!
As man and wife, being two, are one in love,
So be there ’twixt your kingdoms such a spousal,
That never may ill office, or fell jealousy,
Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage,
Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms,
To make divorce of their incorporate league;
That English may as French, French Englishmen,
Receive each other. God speak this Amen!
All
Amen!
King Henry V
Prepare we for our marriage — on which day,
My Lord of Burgundy, we’ll take your oath,
And all the peers’, for surety of our leagues.
Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me;
And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!
Sennet. Exeunt
EPILOGUE
Enter Chorus
Chorus
Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
Our bending author hath pursued the story,
In little room confining mighty men,
Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
Small time, but in that small most greatly lived
This star of England: Fortune made his sword;
By which the world’s best garden be achieved,
And of it left his son imperial lord.
Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown’d King
Of France and England, did this king succeed;
Whose state so many had the managing,
That they lost France and made his England bleed:
Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake,
In your fair minds let this acceptance take.
Exit
The First Part of King Henry the Sixth
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
ACT I
SCENE I. WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
SCENE II. FRANCE. BEFORE ORLEANS.
SCENE III. LONDON. BEFORE THE TOWER.
SCENE IV. ORLEANS.
SCENE V. THE SAME.
SCENE VI. THE SAME.
ACT II
SCENE I. BEFORE ORLEANS.
SCENE II. ORLEANS. WITHIN THE TOWN.
SCENE III. AUVERGNE. THE COUNTESS’S CASTLE.
SCENE IV. LONDON. THE TEMPLE-GARDEN.
SCENE V. THE TOWER OF LONDON.
ACT III
SCENE I. LONDON. THE PARLIAMENT-HOUSE.
SCENE II. FRANCE. BEFORE ROUEN.
SCENE III. THE PLAINS NEAR ROUEN.
SCENE IV. PARIS. THE PALACE.
ACT IV
SCENE I. PARIS. A HALL OF STATE.
SCENE II. BEFORE BOURDEAUX.
SCENE III. PLAINS IN GASCONY.
SCENE IV. OTHER PLAINS IN GASCONY.
SCENE V. THE ENGLISH CAMP NEAR BOURDEAUX.
SCENE VI. A FIELD OF BATTLE.
SCENE VII. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.
ACT V
SCENE I. LONDON. THE PALACE.
SCENE II. FRANCE. PLAINS IN ANJOU.
SCENE III. BEFORE ANGIERS.
SCENE IV. CAMP OF THE YORK IN ANJOU.
SCENE V. LONDON. THE PALACE.
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
Alencon,
Basset,
Bastard Of Orleans,
Bedford,
Bishop of Winchester,
Boy,
Burgundy,
Captain,
Charles,
Countess of Auvergne,
Exeter,
Fastolfe,
First Gaoler,
First Sentinel,
First Serving-man,
First Soldier,
First Warder,
Gargrave,
General,
Glansdale,
Gloucester,
Joan La Pucelle,
John Talbot,
King Henry VI,
Lawyer,
Legate,
Lucy,
Margaret,
Mayor,
Messenger,
Mortimer,
Officer,
Plantagenet,
Porter,
Reignier,
Salisbury,
Scout,
Second Serving-ma
n,
Second Warder,
Sentinels,
Sergeant,
Servant,
Shepherd,
Soldier,
Somerset,
Suffolk,
Talbot,
Third Serving-man,
Vernon,
Warwick,
Watch,
Woodvile,
York,
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!
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:
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:
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
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
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.
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,
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.
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:
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,
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 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,
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?
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,
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;
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;
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.
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,
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.
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?
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
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,
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;
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.
&n
bsp; More than three hours the fight continued;
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;
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,
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;
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.
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,
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;
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,
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,
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,
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
Complete Plays, The Page 196