THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH

Dramatis Personae

KING HENRY THE SIXTH

DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to the King, and Protector

DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent of France

THOMAS BEAUFORT, DUKE OF EXETER, great-uncle to the king

HENRY BEAUFORT, great-uncle to the King, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER,

and afterwards CARDINAL

JOHN BEAUFORT, EARL OF SOMERSET, afterwards Duke

RICHARD PLANTAGENET, 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

SIR JOHN FASTOLFE

SIR WILLIAM LUCY

SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE

SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE

MAYOR of LONDON

WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower

VERNON, of the White Rose or York faction

BASSET, of the Red Rose or Lancaster faction

A LAWYER

GAOLERS, to Mortimer

CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France

REIGNIER, DUKE OF ANJOU, and titular King of Naples

DUKE OF BURGUNDY

DUKE OF ALENCON

BASTARD OF ORLEANS

GOVERNOR OF PARIS

MASTER-GUNNER OF ORLEANS, and his SON

GENERAL OF THE FRENCH FORCES in Bordeaux

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

Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers,

Messengers, English and French Attendants. Fiends appearing

to La Pucelle

SCENE:

England and France

The First Part of King Henry the Sixth

ACT I. SCENE 1.

Westminster Abbey

Dead March. Enter the funeral of KING HENRY THE

FIFTH, attended on by the DUKE OF BEDFORD,

Regent of France, the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, Protector,

the DUKE OF EXETER, the EARL OF WARWICK,

the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER

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 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.

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 contriv'd his end?

WINCHESTER. 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.

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 overawe.

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 lov'st 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'ned 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

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