Five hundred were but yesterday, dubb'd knights:(1)
So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, 'squires,
And gentlemen of blood and quality.

Here was a royal fellowship of death !—
Where is the number of our English dead?

(Herald shows him another paper, then rises and
retires Right Centre.)

Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire (2):
None else of name (3); and of all other men
But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here;
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all!-When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on the other?-Take it, God,
For it is none but thine!

EXETER

'Tis wonderful!

KING HENRY

Do we all holy rites;

Let there be sung Non Nobis and Te Deum;
The dead with charity enclos'd in clay;
And then to Calais; and to England then;
Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men.
(All kneel. Song of Thanksgiving.)

The END of the

THIRD

ACT

(1) In ancient times the distribution of this honour appears to have been customary on the eve of battle. (2) This gentleman, being sent by Henry, before the battle, to find out the strength of the enemy, made this report: "May it please you, my liege, there are enough to be killed, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to run away. He saved the king's life in the field.-Malone. (3) Of eminence.

ACT

FOUR

of KING HENRY V

An HISTORICAL Episode (1)

The Return of Henry V. to London, after the Battle of Agincourt.

HE scene represents London Bridge at the Surrey end. Gaily decorated booths are banked against the fronts of the houses; banners, flags, and garlands float in the air; a holiday throng crowds the ways, the booths and the windows; the chimes of St. Paul are heard above the babel of the crowd. Peddlers of ballads, gilded ginger-bread and other holiday knick-knacks do a thriving business. A Merry Andrew amuses with athletic antics. Two small boys get into a fight and anxious mothers separate them.

The blare of trumpets attracts attention to the coming of NICHOLAS WOTTON, Lord Mayor of London, attended by the Civic Sword-bearer, the Sergeant at Mace, and Aldermen. The Lord Mayor bears the key of the city. They pass along the bridge to meet the KING on the Surrey side and present the freedom of the city. Presently soldiers of the Civic Guard return and crowd the people

*

(1) Extracts of King Henry's reception into London from an anonymous Chronicler, who was an eye-witness of the events he describes : "And when the wished-for Saturday dawned, the citizens went forth to meet the King. * * viz., the Mayor and Aldermen in scarlet, and the rest of the inferior citizens in red suits, with party-coloured hoods, red and white. ** When they had come to the Tower at the approach to the bridge, as it were at the entrance to the authorities to the city. *** Banners of the Royal Arms adorned the Tower, elevated on its turrets; and trumpets, clarions, and horns, sounded in various melody; and in front there was this elegant and suitable inscription upon the wall, 'Civitas Regis justicie '-(The City to the King's Righteousness.') * And behind the tower were innumerable boys, representing angels, arrayed in white, and with countenances shin

*

*

back against the houses to make way for the procession and the festivities. The Lord Mayor and party return from their errand of courtesy and occupy a booth to review the troops.

A flourish of trumpets announces the head of the column. Company after company of bowmen, archers, pikemen, miners and sappers, and other soldiers enter and pass through the crowds. Their ranks are broken and their files depleted by the fatalities of their victory. At the head of each group marches a knight, with a page bearing his shield and a standard-bearer with his colours. The crowd cheers its favourites, soldiers recognize familiar faces in the crowds. A mother kisses her returning son as he marches past. A young wife rushes to the embrace of her wounded husband and marches away with him. Another girl scans the faces of the passing troopers, but seems not to find the one she seeks. She rushes out to an officer. He shakes his head and whispers to her. She faints and is borne back into the crowd, her little tragedy unnoticed in the festivity.

ing with gold, and glittering wings, and virgin locks set with precious sprigs of laurel, who, at the King's approach sang, with melodious voices, and with organs, an English anthem.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

"A company of prophets, of venerable hoariness, dressed in golden coats and mantels, with their heads covered and wrapped in gold and crimson, sang with sweet harmony, bowing to the ground, a psalm of thanksgiving.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

"And they sent forth upon him round leaves of silver mixed with wafers, equally thin and round. And there proceeded out to meet the King a chorus of most beautiful virgin girls, elegantly attired in white, singing with timbrel and dance, as it were an angelic multitude, decked with celestial gracefulness, white apparel, shining feathers, virgin locks, studded with gems and other resplendent and most elegant array, who sent forth upon the head of the King passing beneath minæ of gold, with bows of laurel; round about angels shone with celestial gracefulness, chaunting sweetly, and with all sorts of music.

"And besides the pressure in the standing places, and of men crowding through the streets, and the multitude of both sexes along the way from the bridge, from one end to the other, that scarcely the horsemen could ride through them. A greater assembly, or a nobler spectacle, was not recollected to have been ever before in London."

Following the troops come other knights and attendants. They line the way on both sides. Another flourish of trumpets and forth from the bridge come a troop of maidens in flowing white, who wave palm branches as they trip through their figures. Singing in their train come a choir of scarlet-vested cathedral boys, six English prophets and six English kings. They precede the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP of ELY and the nobles of the royal court. A huzzah spreads through the multitude, the chimes ring out again, the trumpets blare, drums roll, banners wave in a riot of colour, and victorious KING HARRY, on his gaily-caparisoned white charger, rides into the midst of his welcome.

RUMOUR appears as Chorus.

Now we bear the king Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen, Heave him away upon your winged thoughts Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach

Pales in (1) the flood with men, with wives, and boys, Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd

sea,

Which like a mighty whiffler (2) fore the king
Seems to prepare his way: so let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath thought that even now
You may imagine him upon Blackheath;
Where that his lords desire him to have borne
His bruised helmet and his bended sword
Before him through the city: he forbids it,
Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride;
Giving full trophy, signal and ostent

Quite from himself to God. But now behold,

(1) Encompasses. (2) A whiffler is an officer who walks first in processions, or before persons of high stations, on occasions of ceremony.

In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
How London doth pour out her citizens!
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort (1),
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conquering Cæsar in.

The END of the FOURTH ACT

(1) Style.