Page 184 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

What? Shall we curse the planets of mishap
That plotted thus our glory’s overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtle-witted French [25]
Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
By magic verses have contrived his end?

WINCHEST ER

He was a king blest of the King of Kings:
Unto the French, the dreadful judgement-day
So dreadful will not be as was his sight. [30]
The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought:
The church’s prayers made him so prosperous.

GLOUCEST ER

The church? Where is it? Had not churchmen prayed,
His thread of life had not so soon decayed.
None do you like but an effeminate prince [35]
Whom like a schoolboy you may overawe.

WINCHEST ER

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. [40]

GLOUCEST ER

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. [45]
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’ moistened eyes, babes shall suck,
Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, [50]
And none but women left to wail the dead.
Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: