1    Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
2    Comets, importing change of times and states,
3    Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
4    And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
5    That have consented unto Henry's death!
6    King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
7    England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

8    England ne'er had a king until his time.
9    Virtue he had, deserving to command:
10   His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:
11   His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
12   His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
13   More dazzled and drove back his enemies
14   Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
15   What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
16   He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

17   We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?
18   Henry is dead and never shall revive:
19   Upon a wooden coffin we attend,
20   And death's dishonourable victory
21   We with our stately presence glorify,
22   Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
23   What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
24   That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
25   Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
26   Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him
27   By magic verses have contrived his end?

28   He was a king bless'd of the King of kings.
29   Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day
30   So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
31   The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
32   The church's prayers made him so prosperous.

33   The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,
34   His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
35   None do you like but an effeminate prince,
36   Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.

37   Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector
38   And lookest to command the prince and realm.
39   Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
40   More than God or religious churchmen may.

41   Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh,
42   And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st
43   Except it be to pray against thy foes.

44   Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:
45   Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
46   Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms:
47   Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead.
48   Posterity, await for wretched years,
49   When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,
50   Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
51   And none but women left to wail the dead.
52   Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
53   Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
54   Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
55   A far more glorious star thy soul will make
56   Than Julius Caesar or bright--

57   My honourable lords, health to you all!
58   Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
59   Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture:
60   Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
61   Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

62   What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
63   Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
64   Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.

65   Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up?
66   If Henry were recall'd to life again,
67   These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

68   How were they lost? what treachery was used?

69   No treachery; but want of men and money.
70   Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
71   That here you maintain several factions,
72   And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
73   You are disputing of your generals:
74   One would have lingering wars with little cost;
75   Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
76   A third thinks, without expense at all,
77   By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
78   Awake, awake, English nobility!
79   Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot:
80   Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
81   Of England's coat one half is cut away.

82   Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
83   These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.

84   Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
85   Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
86   Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
87   Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
88   To weep their intermissive miseries.

89   Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.
90   France is revolted from the English quite,
91   Except some petty towns of no import:
92   The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims;
93   The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
94   Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
95   The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.

96   The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
97   O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

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

100  Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
101  An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
102  Wherewith already France is overrun.

103  My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
104  Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
105  I must inform you of a dismal fight
106  Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.

107  What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?

108  O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown:
109  The circumstance I'll tell you more at large.
110  The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,
111  Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
112  Having full scarce six thousand in his troop.
113  By three and twenty thousand of the French
114  Was round encompassed and set upon.
115  No leisure had he to enrank his men;
116  He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
117  Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges
118  They pitched in the ground confusedly,
119  To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
120  More than three hours the fight continued;
121  Where valiant Talbot above human thought
122  Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:
123  Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
124  Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew:
125  The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms;
126  All the whole army stood agazed on him:
127  His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit
128  A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain
129  And rush'd into the bowels of the battle.
130  Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up,
131  If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward:
132  He, being in the vaward, placed behind
133  With purpose to relieve and follow them,
134  Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
135  Hence grew the general wreck and massacre;
136  Enclosed were they with their enemies:
137  A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
138  Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
139  Whom all France with their chief assembled strength
140  Durst not presume to look once in the face.

141  Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself,
142  For living idly here in pomp and ease,
143  Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
144  Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd.

145  O no, he lives; but is took prisoner,
146  And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford:
147  Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise.

148  His ransom there is none but I shall pay:
149  I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne:
150  His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
151  Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
152  Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
153  Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
154  To keep our great Saint George's feast withal:
155  Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
156  Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

157  So you had need; for Orleans is besieged;
158  The English army is grown weak and faint:
159  The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply,
160  And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,
161  Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.

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

165  I do remember it; and here take my leave,
166  To go about my preparation.

167  I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can,
168  To view the artillery and munition;
169  And then I will proclaim young Henry king.

170  To Eltham will I, where the young king is,
171  Being ordain'd his special governor,
172  And for his safety there I'll best devise.

173  Each hath his place and function to attend:
174  I am left out; for me nothing remains.
175  But long I will not be Jack out of office:
176  The king from Eltham I intend to steal
177  And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.