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!

on which day,

K. Hen. Prepare we for our marriage :
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!
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.
Small time, but in that small most greatly liv'd

This star of England. Fortune made his sword,
By which the world's best garden 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 succeed;
Whose state so many had the managing,

[Exeunt.

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.

FIRST PART

OF

KING HENRY VI.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

KING HENRY THE SIXTH.
DUKE OF GLOSTER, Uncle to the
King, and Protector.
DUKE OF BEDFORD, Uncle to the
King, Regent of France.
DUKE OF EXETER.

HENRY BEAUFORT, Bishop of
Winchester.

JOHN BEAUFORT, Earl of Somer

set.

RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Duke
of York.

EARLS OF WARWICK, SALIS-
BURY, and SUFFOLK.
TALBOT, afterwards Earl of
Shrewsbury.

JOHN TALBOT, his Son.

EDMUND MORTIMER, Earl of A French Sergeant. A Porter. An

March.

Mortimer's Keeper, and a Lawyer.
SIR JOHN FASTOLFE. SIR WIL-
LIAM LUCY. SIR WILLIAM
GLANSDALE.
GARGRAVE.

old Shepherd, Father to Joan la
Pucelle.

MARGARET, Daughter to Reignier.
COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE.
SIR THOMAS 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.

Dead March. The Corpse of King HENRY the Fifth is 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!
King 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 me 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
Conjurors 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 judgment 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.

Glo. 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.

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;

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 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 Cæsar, or bright -

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My honourable lords, health to you all. Sad tidings 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 Rouen yielded up?