Dau. Via!-les eaux et la terre-
Orl. Rien puis? l'air et la feu-
Dau. Ciel! cousin Orleans.-

Enter Constable.

Now, my lord constable !

Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh. Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their hides; That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,

And doubt them with superfluous courage: Ha!

Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood? How shall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers.
Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
Do but behold yon poor and starved band,

And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands;
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins,
To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,

That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,

And sheathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,

The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.

"T is positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,

That our superfluous lackeys, and our peasants,

Who, in unnecessary action, swarm

About our squares of battle,—were enow
To purge this field of such a hilding foe :
Though we upon this mountain's basis by,
Took stand for idle speculation :
But that our honours must not.
A very little little let us do,

What's to say?

And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket-sonaunce and the note to mount :
For our approach shall so much dare the field,

That England shall couch down in fear, and yield.

Enter Grandpré.

Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?

Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,

Ill-favour'dly become the morning field :

Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,

And our air shakes them passing scornfully.

Big Mars seems bankrout in their beggar'd host,

And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.

The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,

With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips;
The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes;
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit

Lies foul with chaw'd grass, still and motionless;
And their executors, the knavish crows,

Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.
Description cannot suit itself in words,

To demonstrate the life of such a battle

In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.
Dau. Shall we go send them dinners, and fresh suits,
And give their fasting horses provender,

And after fight with them?

Con. I stay but for my guidon. To the field:

I will the banner from a trumpet take,

And use it for my haste. Come, come away!
The sun is high, and we outwear the day.

SCENE II.-The English Camp.

[Exeunt.

Enter the English Host; Gloster, Bedford, Exeter, Salisbury, and Westmoreland.

Glo. Where is the king?

Bed. The king himself is rode to view their battle.

West. Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.

Exe. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh,

Sal. God's arm strike with us! 't is a fearful odds.

God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge:
If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,

Then, joyfully ;-my noble lord of Bedford,

My dear lord Gloster, and my good lord Exeter,

And my kind kinsman, warriors all-adieu !

Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury: and good luck go with thee!

Exe. Farewell, kind lord, fight valiantly to-day ;

And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.
Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindness;
Princely in both.

[Exit Salisbury.

Enter King Henry.

But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

K. Hen.

What's he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmoreland ?—No, my fair cousin :

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men the greater share of honour.

God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England ·

God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more :
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian :
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, To-morrow is saint Crispian :

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars:

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember, with advantages,

What feats he did that day: Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as household words,-
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,—
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd :
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition :

And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,

Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon St. Crispin's day.

SCENE III.—The Field of Battle.

Enter King Henry and Forces; Exeter, and others, with prisoners. K. Hen. Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen :

But all 's not done, yet keep the French the field.

Exe. The duke of York commends him to your majesty.
K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour
I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;

From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.

Exe. In which array (brave soldier!) doth he lie,
Larding the plain: and by his bloody side
(Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds)
The noble earl of Suffolk also lies.

Suffolk first died and York, all haggled over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,

And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes
That bloodily did yawn upon his face ;
And cries aloud,-" Tarry, my cousin Suffolk !
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven:
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly a-breast;
As, in this glorious and well-foughten field,
We kept together in our chivalry!"

Upon these words I came, and cheer'd him up:
He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
And with a feeble gripe, says,-" Dear my lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign."

So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd

A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd

Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd;

But I had not so much of man in me,

And all my mother came into mine eyes,

And gave me up to tears.

K. Hen.

I blame you not;

For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

[Alarum.

[Exeunt.

130. THE DECAY AND SUBVERSION OF THE ENGLISH DOMINION IN

FRANCE.

From the Penny Cyclopædia.' Although no nation ever received so great a blow in a single field as France did on the fatal day of Agincourt, it was not till after some years that, torn as she was by the most lamentable civil dissensions, and left nearly without a government, that unfortunate country at last consented to receive the yoke of her invader. Harfleur was attacked by the French the following August; but the attempt was put an end to by a great naval victory gained by the duke of Bedford. In September Henry passed over to Calais, and there had a secret conference with the head of one of the great French factions, John, surnamed Sans-peur, duke of Burgundy, with whom there is no doubt that he came to some understanding about the employment of their united efforts for the destruction of the Orleanists, who now had the government in their hands. It was by thus politically taking advantage of the dissensions of his enemies, rather than by any further very brilliant military operations, that Henry at last achieved the conquest of France. He returned to that country in August, 1417, having under his command a magnificent army of about 35,000 men. With this force he soon reduced the whole of Lower Normandy. He then laid siege to Rouen, 30th July, 1418, and was detained before this town till, after a brave resistance, it capitulated on the 16th of January in the following year. By this time the duke of Burgundy had obtained the ascendancy in Paris, and at the court of the incapable Charles and his profligate queen ; he was not now so much disposed as he had probably been two years before to aid

and

the ambitious project of the English king. From Rouen Henry advanced upon Paris, on which Burgundy and the queen, taking the king with them, left that city, and went, first to Lagny, and afterwards to Provins. It was at last agreed, however, that a truce should be concluded between the English and the Bourguignons, and that Henry should meet the duke, and the king and queen of France, on the 30th of May. On that day the conference took place on the right bank of the Seine, near the town of Meulan. But after being protracted for above a month, the negociation was suddenly broken off by the French party; and then it was discovered that the duke had concluded a treaty with the Dauphin and the faction of the Armagnacs. On this Henry immediately resumed his advance upon Paris. Meanwhile the hollowness of the apparent reconciliation that had been hastily patched up between the two rival factions became abundantly manifest; the formal alliance of the chiefs had no effect in uniting their followers. At length, on the 10th of September, Burgundy having been induced to meet the Dauphin on the bridge of Montereau, was there foully fallen upon and murdered by the attendants, and in the presence, of the treacherous prince. From this time the Bourguignons, and even the people of Paris, who were attached to that party, looked upon the English as their natural allies against the Dauphin and his faction. Philip, the young duke of Burgundy, and the queen in the name of her husband, immediately assented to all Henry's demands, which were—the hand of Charles's eldest daughter, the Princess Catherine, the present regency of the kingdom, and the succession to the throne of France on the death of Charles. It was also arranged that one of Henry's brothers should marry a sister of duke Philip. Several months were spent in the settlement of certain minor points; but at last the treaty of 'Perpetual Peace,' as it was styled, was completed and signed at Troyes by Queen Isabella and Duke Philip, as the commissioners of King Charles, on the 20th of May, 1420; and on the following day the oath to observe it was taken without murmur or hesitation by the parliament, the nobility, and deputies from such of the commonalties as acknowledged the royal authority.

Henry's marriage with Catherine was solemnized on the 2nd June. On the second day after he resumed his military occupations, and some months were spent in reducing successively the towns of Sens, Montereau, Villeneuve-le-Roi, and Melun. On the 18th November Henry and Charles entered Paris together in triumph, and here the treaty of Troyes was unanimously confirmed (10th December) in an assembly of the three estates of the kingdom. Henry soon after set out with his queen for England, and on the 2nd February, 1421, entered London amidst such pageants and popular rejoicings as that capital had never before witnessed.

He did not, however, remain long at home. On the 22nd March his brother, the duke of Clarence, whom he had left governor of Normandy, was defeated in a battle fought at Baugé, in Anjou, by a force chiefly composed of a body of Scottish auxiliaries under the earl of Buchan, who slew Clarence with his own hand, an exploit for which the Dauphin conferred upon the Scottish earl the office of constable of France. This victory appears to have produced a wonderful effect in reanimating the almost broken spirits and extinguished hopes of the Dauphin's party. Feeling that his presence was wanted in France, Henry again set sail for Calais in the beginning of June, taking with him a Scottish force commanded by Archibald, earl of Douglas, and also his prisoner, the Scottish king, to whom he promised his liberty as soon as they should have returned to England. His wonted success attended him in this new expedition; and he drove the Dauphin before him, from one place after another, till he forced him to retire to Bourges, in Berry. He then, after taking the strong town of Meaux, which cost him a siege of seven months, proceeded to Paris, which he entered with great pomp, 30th May, 1422,