This is the latest glory of thy praise, [Exeunt General, &c. from the walls. Tal. He fables not, I hear the enemy; Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings. O, negligent and heedless discipline! How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale; A little herd of England's timorous deer, Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs! If we be English deer, be then in blood: Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch; But rather moody-mad, and desperate stags, Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel, And make the cowards stand aloof at bay: Sell every man his life as dear as mine, And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends. God, and Saint George! Talbot, and England's right! Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! [Exeunt. SCENE III. - Plains in Gascony. That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power, Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led; Fork. A plague upon that villain Somerset ; Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English Never so needful on the earth of France, nour. York. O God! that Somerset-who in proud Doth stop my cornets - were in Talbot's place! tad ire, and wrathful fury, makes me weep, That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep. Lucy. O, send some succour to the distress'd lord! We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset. Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul! And on his son, young John; whom, two hours since, I met in travel toward his warlike father! [Exit. Lucy. Thus while the vulture of sedition Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror, That ever-living man of memory, Henry the fifth-Whiles they each other cross, Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. [Exit. SCENE IV.- Other Plains of Gascony. Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of TALBOT's with him. Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now: Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot name. Off. Here is sir William Lucy, who with me Set from our o'er match'd forces forth for aid. Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY. Som. How now, sir William? whither were you sent? Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold lord Talbot; Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. Som. York set him on, York should have sent him aid. Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace ex claims; Swearing that you withhold his levied host, Collected for this_expedition. Som. Y k lies; he might have sent and had the horse; I owe him little duty, and less love; Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot : Within six hours they will be at his aid. Lucy. Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en, or slain: For fly he could not, if he would have fled;' And fly would Talbot never, though he might. Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu ! Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. [Exeunt. SCENE V.—The English Camp near Bourdeaux. Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son. Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight, and die? My age was never tainted with such shame. Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, SCENE VI.-A Field of Battle. Alarum: Excursions, wherein TALBOT's Son is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him. Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, fight: The regent hath with Talbot broke his word, Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee, Where is John Talbot?-pause, and take thy breath; To tutor thee in stratagems of war; That Talbot's name might be in thee revi The world will say, He is not Talbot's blood, That basely fled, when noble Talbot stood. Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. John. He, that flies so, will ne'er return again. Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. John. Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly: Your loss is great, so your regard should be; My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. Upon my death the French can little boast; In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; But mine it will, that no exploit have done: You fled for vantage, every one will swear; But, if I bow, they'll say it was for fear. There is no hope that ever I will stay, If, the first hour, I shrink, and run away. Here, on my knee, I beg mortality, Rather than life preserv'd with infamy. Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb. Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go. John. Yes, your renowned name; Shall flight abuse it? Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain. John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. If death be so apparent, then both fly. I gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death. John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son: The life, thou gav'st me first, was lost and done; Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date. Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire, It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care; To hazard all our lives in one small boat. John. The sword of Orleans hath not made a gone; where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?friumphant death, smear'd with captivity! Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee: When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee, His bloody sword he brandish'd over me, And, like a hungry lion, did commence Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience; But when my angry guardant stood alone, Tend'ring my ruin, and assail'd of none, Dizzy-ey'd fury, and great rage of heart, Suddenly made him from my side to start Into the clust'ring battle of the French : And in that sea of blood my boy did drench His overmounting spirit; and there died My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride. Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN Talbot. Serv. Omy dear lord! lo, where your son is borne! Tel. Thou antick death, which laugh'st us here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, say Had death been French, then death had died to-day. Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms; My spirit can no longer bear these harms. Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have, Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. [Dies. darums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving the two bodies. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, BURCUNDY, Bastard, LA PUCELLE, and Forces. Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, We should have found a bloody day of this. Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, Phou maiden youth, be vanquish’d by a maid : t-with a proud, majestical high scorn, — He answered thus; Young Talbot was not born To be the pillage of a giglot wench : 8, rushing in the bowels of the French, proudly, as unworthy fight. He left me Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble knight: See, where he lies inhersed in the arms Of the most bloody nurser of his harms. Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder; Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. Char. O, no; forbear: for that which we have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead. Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY, attended; a French Herald preceding. Lucy. Herald, Conduct me to the Dauphin's tent; to know Char. On what submissive message art thou sent? Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'tis a mere French word; We English warriors wot not what it means. Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is. But tell me whom thou seek'st. Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury? Created, for his rare success in arms, Great earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence; Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton, The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge; Of all his wars within the realm of France? Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed! Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only scourge, Your kingdom's terrour and black Nemesis? O, that I could but call these dead to life! Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. For God's sake, let him have 'em; to keep them here, They would but stink, and putrefy the air. I'll bear them hence ACT V. SCENE I.- London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING Henry, Gloster, and EXETER. K. Hen. Have you perus'd the letters from the pope, The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac? Glo. I have, my lord; and their intent is this, They humbly sue unto your excellence, To have a godly peace concluded of, Between the realms of England and of France. K. Hen. How doth your grace affect their motion? Glo. Well, my good lord; and as the only means To stop effusion of our Christian blood, And 'stablish quietness on every side. K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought, It was both impious and unnatural, That such immanity and bloody strife Should reign among professors of one faith. Glo. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect, And fitter is my study and my books, Ere. What is my lord of Winchester install'd, He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown. K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits Have been consider'd and debated on. Your purpose is both good and reasonable : And, therefore, are we certainly resolv'd To draw conditions of a friendly peace; Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean Shall be transported presently to France. Glo. And for the proffer of my lord your master,I have inform'd his highness so at large, As-liking of the lady's virtuous gifts, Her beauty, and the value of her dower, — He doth intend she shall be England's queen. K. Hen. In argument and proof of which contrách, Bear her this jewel, [to the Amb.] pledge of my Mess. Success unto our valiant general, And happiness to his accomplices! Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pry'the speak. Mess. The English army, that divided was Into two parts, is now conjoin'd in one; And means to give you battle presently. Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is But we will presently provide for them. Bur. I trust, the ghost of Talbot is not there; Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. Puc. Of all base passions, fear is most accurs'd Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine Let Henry fret, and all the world repine. Char, Then on, my lords; And France be tunate! SCENE III.. [Ex The same. Before Angiers. Alarums: Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frencia fly. Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts; Enter Fiends. This speedy quick appearance argues proof Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, So you do condescend to help me now. — [They hang their heads. No hope to have redress?- My body shall Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit. [They shake their heads. Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice, Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all, Before that England give the French the foil. [They depart. See! they forsake me. Now the time is come, That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, And let her head fall into England's lap. My ancient incantations are too weak, And hell too strong for me to buckle with: Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit. LA Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting. And may ye both be suddenly surpriz'd [Gazes on her. fairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly; For I will touch thee but with reverent hands, And lay them gently on thy tender side. kiss these fingers [kissing her hand.] for eternal peace: Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee. Suf. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd. doth the swan her downy cygnets save, [She turns away as going. stay!-I have no power to let her pass; ly band would free her, but my heart says-no. plays the sun upon the glassy streams, winkling another counterfeited beam, seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. in would I woo her, yet I dare not speak: call for pen and ink, and write my mind: Bye, De la Poole! disable not thyself; Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner? Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit, I pay? Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won. [Aside. Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransome, yea, or no? Suf. Fond man! remember, that thou hast a wife; Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside. Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear. Suf. There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card. Mar. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad. Suf. And yet a dispensation may be had. Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. Suf. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom? Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing. Mar. He talks of wood: It is some carpenter. Suf. Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, And peace established between these realms. But there remains a scruple in that too: For though her father be the king of Naples, Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, And our nobility will scorn the match. [Aside. Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure? Suf. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much; Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield. — Madam, I have a secret to reveal. Mar. What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a knight, And will not any way dishonour me. [Aside. Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so? And so shall you, If happy England's royal king be free. Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen; To put a golden scepter in thy hand, And set a precious crown upon thy head, If thou wilt condescend to be my Mar. Suf. His love. What? Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. Suf. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am To woo so fair a dame to be his wife, And have no portion in the choice myself. How say you, madam; are you so content? Mar. An if my father please, I am content. Suf. Then call our captains, and our colours, forth: And, madam, at your father's castle walls We'll crave a parley, to confer with him. [Troops come forward. |