Exe. 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
Conj'rers and forc'rers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verse have thus contriy'd his end?

Win. He was a King, blest of the King of Kings.
Unto the French, the dreadful judgment-day
So dreadful will not be as was his light.
The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
The church's pray’rs made him so prosperous.
Glo The church ? where is it? had not church-

men pray'd,
His thread of life had not fo foon 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 church men may.

Glou. Name not religon, for thou lov'ft the flesh; And ne'er throughout the year to church ihou go'st, Except it be to pray against thy foes. Bed. Cease, cease thele 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! Pofterity await for wretched years, When at their mother's moilt eyes babes shall fuck;

* Our

* Our ille be made a Marish 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 ftar thy soul will make,
Than Julius Cæfar, or bright

S CE NE II.

MeJ. M

Enter a Messenger.
Y honourable lords, health to you all;

Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of slaughter, and disconfiture;
Guienne, Champaign, and Rheins, and Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poišliers, are all quite loft.
Bed. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's

coarse ? Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns Will make him burst his lead, and rise from death,

Glou. Is Paris loft, and 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 was us’d?

Mef. No treachery, but want of men and money. Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, That here you maintain fev'ral factions ; And, whilst a field should be difpatch'd and fought, you are disputing of your Generals.

* Our isle be made a Marish of salt tears,] Thus it is (says Mr. Theobald) in both the Impressions of Mr. Pope; but upon what authority I cannot say. All the old Copies read a Nourish : And considering it is said in the Line immediately preceding, that Babes should suck at their Mothers moist Eyes, it seems very probable that our Author wrote a Nourice. i. e. that the whole Ijland should be one common Nurse or Nourisher of Tears, &c. Was there ever such Nonsense! But he did not know that Marish is an old Word for Marsh or Fen ; and therefore very Judiciously thus Corrected by Mr. Pope.

One

One would have lingring wars with little cost;
Another would fly (wift, but wanteth wings :
A third man thinks, without expence at all,
By guileful fair words, peace may be obtain'd.
Awake, awake, English nobility!
Let not floth dim your honours, new-begot ;
Crop'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 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 the French, instead of eyes, Too weep their intermissive miseries.

2 Melf. Lo

Enter to them another Messenger.
ORDS, view these letters, full of bad

mifchance.
France is revolted from the English quite,
Except some petty towns of no import.
The Dauphin Charles is crowned King in Rheims,
The bastard Orleans with him is join'd:
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part,
The Duke of Alanfon flies to his fide.

Exit. Exe. The Dauphin crowned King? all fly to him? 0, whither shall we fly froin this reproach?

Glou. We will not fly but to our enemies' throats. Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.

Bed. Glofter, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? An army have I niufter'd in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is over-run.

SCENE

S CE N E IV:

Enter a third Messenger.
Y gracious lords, to add to your laments.

3 MelJ.

hearfe, I 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. 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 fiege of Orleans, Having scarce full 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 Itakes, 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 durft stand him; Here, there, and every where, enrag'd he flew : The French exlaim'd, -The devil was in arms !" All the whole army stood agaz'd on him. His foldiers, spying his undaunted fpirit, A Talbot ! Talbot! cried out amain, And rufh'd into the bowels of the battle, Here had the Conquest fully been fealid up, If Sir John Fafiolfe 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. Vol. V.

P

Hence

Hence grew the gen'ral wreck and mafsacre ;
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 her chief assembled ftrength
Durft not presume to look once in the face.

Bed. Is Talbot flain then? I will flay myself,
For living idly here in pomp and ease;
Whilft such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his daftard foe-men is betray'd.

3 Mej. 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.

Bed. 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. Farewel, my masters, to my task will I ; Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, To keep our great St. George's feast withal. Ten thousand foldires with me I will take, Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

3 Mej. So you had need, for Orleans is besieg'd'; The English army is grown weak and faint: Thc Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, And hardly keeps his men from mutiny ; Since they so few watch such a multitude.

Exe. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn: Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.

Bed. I do remember it, and here take leave, To go about my preparation. [Exit Bedford. Glou. I'll to the Tower with all the hafte I

can, To view th'artillery and ammunition; And then I will proclaim young Henry King.

[Exit Gloucester. Exe. To Eltam will I, where the young King is,