Might with a fally of the very town
Be buckled with. The over-daring Talbot
Hath fullied all his glofs of former honour,
By this unheedful, defp'rate, wild adventure :
York fet him on to fight, and die in shame,
That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
Capt. 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 fent?
Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and fold lord
Talbot:

Who, ring'd about with bold adverfity,
Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
To beat affailing death from his weak legions."
And while the honourable Captain there

Drops bloody fweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue;
You, his falfe hopes, the truft of England's honour,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
Let not your private discord keep away
The levied fuccours, that fhould lend him aid;
While he, renowned noble gentleman,

Yields up his life unto a world of odds.

Orleans the Baftard, Charles, and Burgundy,
Alanfon, Reignier, compass him about;

And Talbot perifheth by your default.

Som. York fet him on, York fhould have fent him aid. Lucy. And York as faft upon your Grace exclaims; Swearing, that you with-hold his levied hoft, Collected for this expedition.

Som. York lies: he might have fent, and had the horse:

I owe him little duty, and lefs love,

And take foul fcorn to fawn on him by fending.

Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of France, Hath now entrapt the noble-minded Talbot:

Never to England shall he bear his life;
But dies, betray'd to fortune by your ftrife.

Som. Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen ftrait: Within fix hours they will be at his aid.

Lucy. Too late comes refcue; he is ta'en, or flain; For fly he could not, if he would have fled : And йy 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.

Tal.

A Field of Battle near Bourdeaux.

Enter Talbot, and bis fon.
Young John Talbot, I did fend for thee
To tutor thee in stratagems of war;
That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd,
When fapless age, and weak unable limbs,
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair,
But, O malignant and ill-boading stars!
Now art thou come unto a feaft of death,
A terrible and unavoided danger.

Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swifteft horse,
And I'll direct thee how thou fhalt escape
By fudden flight. Come, dally not; be gone.
John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your fon?
And fhall I fly? O! if you love my mother,
Dishonour not her honourable name,
To make a bastard, and a slave of me.
The world will fay, he is not Talbot's blood,
That bafely fled, when noble Talbot stood.

Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.
John. He that flies fo, will ne'er return again.

To tutor thee in ftratagems of war ;] Stratagem, for art

imply.

Tal. If we both stay, we both are fure to die. John. Then let me ftay, and, father, do you fly: Your lofs is great, fo your regard fhould be; My worth unknown, no lofs is known in me. Upon my death the French can little boast; In yours they will, in you all hopes are loft. Flight cannot ftain the honour you have won : But mine it will, that no exploit have done. You fled for vantage, ev'ry one will swear: But if I bow, they'll fay, it was for fear, There is no hope that ever I will stay, If the first hour I fhrink, and run away. Here, on my knee, I beg mortality, Rather than life preferv'd with infamy.

2

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lye in one tomb? John. Ay, rather than I'll fhame my mother's womb. Tal. Upon my bleffing I command thee go. John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. Tal. Part of thy father may be fav'd in thee. John. No part of him, but will be fhame in me. Tal. Thou never hadft renown, nor canft not lofe it. John. Yes, your renowned name; fhall flight abuse it? Tal. Thy father's charge fhall clear thee from that ftain. John. You cannot witnefs for me, being flain. If death be fo apparent, then both fly.

Tal. And leave my followers here to fight, and die? My age was never tainted with fuch fhame.

John. And fhall my youth be guilty of such blame? No more can I be fever'd from your fide, Than can your felf your felf in twain divide: Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I; For live I will not, if my father die.

Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair fon, Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon :

Come, fide by fide, together live and die;

And foul with foul from France to heaven fly. [Exeunt.

2 I beg mortality,] Mortality, for death.

Alarm:

Alarm: excurfions, wherein Talbot's fon is bemm'd about, and Talbot rescues him.

Tal. St. George, and victory! fight, foldiers, fight: The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word, And left us to the rage of France's fword.

Where is John Talbot? paufe, and take thy breath gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death.

I

;

John. O, twice my father! twice am I thy fon:
The life, thou gav'ft me first, was loft and done
Till with thy warlike fword, defpight of fate,
To my determin'd time thou gav'it new date.
Tal. When from the Dauphin's creft thy fword
ftruck fire,

It warm'd thy father's heart with proud defire
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken'd with youthful fpleen and warlike rage,
Beat down Alanfon, Orleans, Burgundy,
And from the pride of Gallia refcu'd thee.
The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood
From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
Of thy first Fight, I foon encountered;
And, interchanging blows, I quickly fhed
Some of his baftard blood; and in difgrace
Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, base,
And mif-begotten blood I fpill of thine,
Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine,
Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy-

Here, purpofing the Bastard to destroy,

Came in ftrong refcue. Speak, thy father's care,
Art not thou weary, John? how doft thou fare?
Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
Now thou art feal'd the son of Chivalry?
Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead;
The help of one ftands me in little stead.
Oh, too much folly is it, well I wot,
To hazard all our lives in one fmall boat.

If I to day die not with Frenchmens' rage,
To morrow I fhall die with mickle age.
By me they nothing gain; and, if I ftay,
'Tis but the shortning of my life one day.
In thee thy mother dies, our houfhold's name,
My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame:
All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay;
All these are fav'd, if thou wilt fly away.

John. The fword of Orleans hath not made me fmart,
These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
(a) Out on that vantage bought with fuch a fhame,
To fave a paltry life, and flay bright fame!
Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,

The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die!
And like me to the peafant boys of France,
To be shame's fcorn, and subject of mischance.
Surely, by all the glory you have won,
An if I fly, I am not Talbot's fon!

Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
If fon to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Tal. Then follow thou thy defp'rate Sire of Crete, Thou Icarus! thy life to me is sweet:

If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's fide;
And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride. [Exeunt.

Alarm. Excurfions. Enter old Talbot, led. Tal. Where is my other life? mine own is gone. O! where's young Talbot? where is valiant John? Triumphant Death, smear'd with captivity! Young Talbot's valour makes me fmile at thee. When he perceiv'd me fhrink, and on my knee, His bloody fword he brandifh'd over me;

{(a) out on that vantage. Mr. Theobald. advantage]

Vulg. on that

And,