Finish the process of his sandy hour,

These eyes, that see thee now well colored,
Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead.
[Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! the dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.

[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 parked, and bounded in a pale;
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood;1
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 colors in this dangerous fight!

SCENE III. Plains in Gascony.

[Exeunt.

Enter YORK, with Forces; to him a Messenger. York. Are not the speedy scouts returned again, That dogged the mighty army of the dauphin? Mess. They are returned, my lord; and give it out, That he is marched to Bordeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot. As he marched along, By your espials were discovered,

Two mightier troops than that the dauphin led;

1 In blood is a term of the forest; a deer was said to be in blood when in vigor or in good condition, and full of courage; here put in opposition to rascal, which was the term for the same animal when lean and out of condition.

Which joined with him, and made their march for Bor

deaux.

York. A plague upon that villain Somerset ;
That thus delays my promised supply
Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege!
Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid
And I am louted' by a traitor villain,
And cannot help the noble chevalier.
God comfort him in this necessity!
If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.

Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY.

Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength,
Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot;
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron,
And hemmed about with grim destruction.

To Bordeaux, warlike duke! to Bordeaux, York!
Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honor.
York. O God! that Somerset-who in proud heart
Doth stop my cornets—were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman,
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.

Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep,
That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.

Lucy. O, send some succor to the distressed lord! York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word; 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!

This seven years did not Talbot see his son;

And now they meet where both their lives are done.

1 The meaning of this word here is evidently loitered, retarded; and the following quotation from Cotgrave will show that this was sometimes the sense of to lowt:-"Loricarder, to luske, lowt, or lubber it; to loyter about like a master-less man."

York. Alas! what joys shall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young son welcome to his grave!
Away! vexation almost stops my breath,

That sundered friends greet in the hour of death.—
Lucy, farewell! no more my fortune can,

But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.-
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,
'Long all of Somerset, and his delay.

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, honors, lands, and all, hurry to loss.

SCENE IV. Other Plains of Gascony.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of TAL-
BOT'S with him.

Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now:
This expedition was by York, and Talbot,
Too rashly plotted; all our general force
Might with a sally of the very town
Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot
Hath sullied all his gloss of former honor,
By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure :
York set him on to fight, and die in shame,

That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
Off. Here is sir William Lucy, who with me.
Set from our o'ermatched 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;1

1 This expression seems to have been proverbial; intimating that foul play had been used.

Who, ringed about' with bold adversity,
Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
To beat assailing death from his weak legions.
And whiles the honorable captain there

Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
Let not your private discord keep away
The levied succors that should lend him aid,
While he, renowned, noble gentleman,
Yields up his life unto a world of odds.
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy,
Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,
And Talbot perisheth by your default.

Som. York set him on; York should have sent him aid.

Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace exclaims; Swearing that you withhold his levied host, Collected for this expedition.

Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the horse.

I owe him little duty, and less love;

And take foul scorn, to fawn on him by sending.
Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of
France,

Hath now entrapped the noble-minded Talbot.

Never to England shall he bear his life;

But dies, betrayed to fortune by your strife.

Som. Come, go; I will despatch the horsemen straight;

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.

1 Encircled, environed.

2 Protracting his resistance by the advantage of a strong post.

SCENE V. The English Camp near Bordeaux.

Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son

Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee, To tutor thee in stratagems of war;

That Talbot's name might be in thee revived,
When sapless age, and weak, unable limbs,
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.
But,-O malignant and ill-boding stars!-
Now thou art come unto a feast of death,
A terrible and unavoided1 danger:

Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse;
And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape

By sudden flight: come, dally not; begone.

John. Is my name Talbot? and am I. your son?
And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother,
Dishonor not her honorable name,

To make a bastard, and a slave of me;
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 regard2 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 honor 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 preserved with infamy.

1 Unavoided for unavoidable. 2 Your care of your own safety.