K. Hen. An angel is like you, Kate; and you are like an angel.

Kath. Que dit-il? que je suis semblable à les anges?

Alice. Ouy, crayment, (sauf vostre grace) ainsi

dit il.

K. Hen. I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it.

Kath. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines des tromperies.

K. Hen. What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits?

Alice. Ouy; dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess.

K. Hen. The princess is the better Englishwoman. I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad, thou can'st speak no better English; for, if thou could'st, thou would'st find me such a plain king, that thou would'st think, I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say I love you: then, if you urge me further than to say-Do you in faith? I wear out my suit. Give me your answer; i'faith, do; and so clap hands and a bargain: How say you, lady?

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, me understand well.

K. Hen. Marry, if you would put me to verses, or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me: for the one, I have neither words nor measure; and for the other, I have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a lady at leapfrog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armour on my back, under the correction of bragging be it spoken, I should quickly leap into a wife. Or, if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher, and sit like a jack-an-apes, never off: but, before God, I cannot look greenly,t nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be

K. Hen. No; it is not possible, you should love the enemy of France, Kate: but, in loving me, you should love the friend of France; for I love France so well, that I will not part with a village of it; I will have it all mine: and, Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours, then yours is France, and you are mine.

Kath. 1 cannot tell vat is dat.

K. Hen. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French; which, I am sure, will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. Quand j'ay la possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi, (let me see, what then? Saint Dennis be my speed!)-donc vostre est France, et vous estes mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom, as to speak so much more French: I shall never move thee in French: unless it be to laugh at me.

Kath. Sauf vostre honneur, le François que vous parlez, est meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.

K. Hen. No, 'faith, 'tis not, Kate: but thy speaking of my tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love me?

Kuth. I cannot tell.

K. Hen. Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them. Come, I know, thou lovest me: and at night when you come into your closet, you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will, to her, dispraise those parts in me, that you love with your heart: but, good Kate, mock me mercifully; the rather, gentle princess, because 1 love thee cruelly. If ever thou be'st mine, Kate, (as I have a saving faith within me, tells me, thou shalt,) I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder: Shall not thou and I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the beard? shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair flower-de-luce? Kath. I do not know dat.

K. Hen. No; 'tis hereafter to know, but now

thou canst love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee-that I shall die, is true; but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do always reason themselves out again. What! a speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good leg will fall: a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow-bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me: And take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: And what sayest thou then to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.

Kath. Is it possible dat I should love de enemy of France?

* In dancing. + I. e. Like a young lover, awkwardly. † He means, resembling a plain piece of metal which has not yet received any impression. Fall away.

will endeavour for your French part of such a boy; and, for my English moiety, take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon tres chere et divine deesse?

Kath. Your majesté'ave fausse French enough to deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France.

K. Hen. Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I dare not swear, thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage.* Now beshrew my father's ambition! he was thinking of civil wars when he got me; therefore was i created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when I come to woo ladies, I fright then. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear: my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better; And therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden

* I. c. Though my face has no power to soften vou,

with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and say-Harry of England, I am thine: which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud-England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine; who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music, and thy English broken: therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English. Wilt thou have me?

Kath. Dat is, as it shall please de roy mon pere.

K. Hen. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.

Kath. Den it shall also content me.

K. Hen. Upon that I will kiss your hand, and I call you-my queen.

Kath. Laissez, mon siegneur, laissez, laissez: ma foy, je ne veux point que vous abbaissez vostre grandeur, en baisant la main d'une vostre indigne serviteure; excusez moy, je vous supplie, mon tres puissant seigneur.

K. Hen. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate. Kath. Les dames, et damoiselles, pour estre baiseés devant leur nopces, il n'est pas le coûtume de France.

K. Hen. Madam, my interpreter, what says she?

Alice. Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France,-I cannot tell what is, baiser, en English.

K. Hen. To kiss.

Alice. Your majesty entendre bettre que moy. K. Hen. It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?

Alice. Ouy, vrayment.

K. Hen. O, Kate, nice customs curt'sy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places, stops the mouths of all find-faults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country, in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently, and yielding. [Kissing her.] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them, than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England, than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.

Enter the FRENCH KING and QUEEN, BURGUNDY, BEDFORD, GLOSTER, EXETER, WESTMORELAND, and other French and English

Lords.

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.

K. Hen. Yet they do wink, and yield; as love is blind, and enforces.

Bur. They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.

K. Hen. Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent to winking.

Bur. 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.

K. Hen. This moral ties me over to time, and a hot summer; and so I will catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end, and she must be blind too.

Bur. As love is, my lord, before it loves.

K. Hen. 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.

Fr. King. Yes, iny lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls, that war hath never entered.

K. Hen. Shall Kate be my wife?

Fr. King. So please you.

K. Hen. I am content; so the maiden cities you talk of, may wait on her: so the maid, that stood in the way of my wish, shall show me the way to my will.

Fr. King. We have consented to all terms of

reason.

K. Hen. Is't so, my lords of England? West. The king hath granted every article: His daughter, first; and then, in sequel, all, According to their firm proposed natures.

Exe. 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 tres cher filz Henry roy d'Angleterre, heretier de France; and thus in Latin,-Præclarissimus filius noster Henricus, rex Angliæ, et hares Francia.

Fr. King. Nor this I have not, brother, so denied,

But your request shall make me let it pass. K. Hen. I pray you then, in love and dear alliance, Let that one article rank with the rest: And, thereupon, give me your daughter. Fr. 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,
[tion
May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunc-
Piant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord
In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair

France.

All. Amen'

K. Hen. Now welcome, Kate:--and hear me witness all,

That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen. [Flourish * Application.

Enter CHORUS.

Thus far, with rough, and all unable pen,
Our bending author hath pursu'd the story
In little room confining mighty men,
Mangling by starts the full course of their
glory.
[liv'd
Small time, but in that small, most greatly
This star of England: fortune made his sword;
By which the world's best gardent he achiev'd,
And of it left his son imperial lord.

Henry the sixth, in infant bands crown'd king
Of France and England did this king suc
ceed;
Whose state so many had the managing,
That they lost France, and made his Eng-
land bleed:

Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take. [Exit,

* 1. e. Unequal to the weight of the subject. + France

KLG HENRY THE SIXTH.
DUKE OF GLOSTER, Uncle to the King, and
Protector.

DUKE OF BEDFORD, Uncle to the King, and
Regent of France.

THOS BEAUFORT, Duke of Exeter, great

Uncle to the King.

HENRY BEAUFORT, great Uncle to the King,
Bishop of Winchester; and afterwards
Cardinal.

JOHN BLAUFORT, 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 GAR-

GRAVE.

MAYOR OF LONDON.

WOODVILLE, Lieutenant 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 Bour-
deaux.

A FRENCH SERGEANT. -A PORTER.
AN OLD SHEPHERD, Father to Joan la Pucelle.
MARGARET, Daughter to Reignier; afterwards
married 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.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Westminster Abbey.

Deud march. Corpse of King HENRY the Fifth discovered, lying in state; attended on by the Dukes of BEDFORD, GLOSTER, and EXETER; the Earl of WARWICK, the Bishop of WINCHESTER, Heralds, &c.

Bed. 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! 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 Virtue he had, deserving to command: [time. 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,

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 contriv'd his end?

Win. 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 fight.
The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
The church's prayers made him so prosperous.

* There was a notion long prevalent, that life might be taken away by metrical charms.

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. Win. Gloster, 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.
Glo. Name not religion, for thou lov'st the
flesh;
[go'st,
And ne'er throughout the year to church thou
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,
(suck;
When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall
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 står thy soul will make,
Than irinus Cæsar, or bright-

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mo My honourable lords, health to you all! Sa tiaings bring I to you out of France, Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture: Guienne, Champaigne, Rheims, Orleans, Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. 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 lost? is Roüen yielded up? If Henry were recall'd to life again,

These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

was us'd?

Exe. How were they lost? what treachery Mess. 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 despatch'd and
fought,

You are disputing of your generals.
One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost;

Another would fly but wanteth wings;
A third man thinks, without expense at all,
By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.

Awake, awake, English nobility!

Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot: Cropp'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, These tidings would call forth hert 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!

Except some petty towns of no import:
The 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.

Exe. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? Glo. We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats:

Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
Bed. Gloster, why doubt'st thou of my for-
wardness!

An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is over-run.

Enter a third MESSENGER.

3 Mess. My gracious lords, -to add to your laments, [hearse,Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's I must inform you of a dismal fight, Betwixt the stout lord Talbot and the French. Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?

3 Mess. 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.
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, enrag'd he slew:
The French exclaim'd, The devil was in arms;
All the whole army stood agaz'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 seal'd up,
If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward;

He being in the vaward, (plac'd behind,

With purpose to relieve and follow them,)

Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke,

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.
Bed. 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 foe-man is betray'd.

Mess. O he lives; but is took prisoner,

To weep their intermissive miseries.‡

Enter another MESSENGER.

2 Mess. Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance,

➡ Nurse was anciently so spelt.

+ Her, i. e. England's.