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This is the latest glory of thy praise,
We mourn, France smiles ; we lose, they daily get ; That I, thy enemy, due thee withal ;
All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset. For ere the glass, that now begins to run,
Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's Finish the process of his sandy hour,
soul ! These eyes, that see thee now well coloured, And on his son, young John; whom, two hours Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
(Drum afar off: I met in travel toward his warlike father! Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell, This seven years did not Talbot see his son ; Sings heavy musick to thy timorous soul,
And now they meet where both their lives are done. And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have, (Exeunt General, &c. from the walls. To bid his young son welcome to his grave ? Tal. He fables not, I hear the enemy; - Away! vexation almost stops my breath, Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings. That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death. 0, negligent and heedless discipline !
Lucy, farewell: no more iny fortune can, How are we park’d, and bounded in a pale; But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. — A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs ! 'Long all of Somerset, and his delay. [Exit. If we be English deer, be then in blood :
Lucy. Thus while the vulture of sedition Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch ; Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, But rather moody-mad, and desperate stags, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel, The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror, And make the cowards stand aloof at bay: That ever-living man of memory, Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
Henry the fifth : - Whiles they each other cross, And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends. Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. God, and Saint George ! Talbot, and England's
[Erit. right! Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!
SCENE IV. - Other Plains af Gascony. [Exeunt.
Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces ; an Officer of SCENE III. - Plains in Gascony.
TALBOT's with him.
Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now: Enter YORK, with Forces ; to him a Messenger. This expedition was by York, and Talbot, * York. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again, Too rashly plotted ; all our general force That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin
? Might with a sally of the very town Mess. They are return'd, my lord : and give Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot it out,
Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour, That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power, By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure : To fight with Talbot: As he march'd along, York set him on to fight, and die in shame, By your espials were discovered
That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin Jed; Which join'd with him, and made their march for Off Here is sir William Lucy, who with me Bourdeaux.
Set from our o'er match'd forces forth for aid. York. A plague upon that villain Somerset;
Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY.
Som. How now, sir William ? whither were you Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid ;
sent? And I am lowted by a traitor villain,
Lucy. Whither, my lord ? from bought and sold And cannot help the noble chevalier :
lord Talbot ; Gxd comfort him in this necessity !
Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, If be miscarry, farewell wars in France.
Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
To beat assailing death from his weak legions. Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY.
And whiles the honourable captain there Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, strength,
And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue, Yeter so needful on the earth of France,
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's hoSrur to the rescue of the noble Talbot ;
nour, Who now is girdled with a waist of iron,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. And hemm'd about with grim destruction :
Let not your private discord keep away To Bourdeaux, warlike duke ! to Bourdeaux, York! The levied succours that should lend him aid, Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's ho- Whiles he, renowned noble gentleman, nour.
Yields up his life unto a world of odds : York. O God! that Somerset - who in proud Orleans the Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy, heart
Alençon, Reignier, compass him about, Doth stop my cornets — were in Talbot's place! And Talbot perisheth by your default. so should we save a valiant gentleman,
Som. York set him on, York should have sent him Bę forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
aid. Blad ire, and wrathful fury, makes me weep, Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace exThat thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
claims; Lucy. O, send some succourto the distress'd lord! Swearing that you withhold his levied host, York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word: Collected for this expedition.
Som. Y k lies; he might have sent and had the Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight, and horse ;
die? I owe him little duty, and less love ;
My age was never tainted with such shame. And take foul scom, to fawn on him by sending. John. And shall my youth be guilty of such blarne? Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of No more can I be sever'd from your side, France,
Than can yourself yourself in twain divide : Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot : Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I; Never to England shall he bear his life;
For live I will not, if my father die. But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, Som. Come, go; I will despatch the horsemen Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon. straight :
Come, side by side together live and die ; Within six hours they will be at his aid.
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. Lucy. Too late comes rescue; he is ta’en, or slain:
(Exeunt. For fly he could not, if he would have fled; And fly would Talbot never, though he might.
SCENE VI. - A Field of Battle.
Alarum : Excursions, wherein Talbor's Son is you.
hemmed about, and Talbot rescues him.
Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, SCENE V. - The English Camp near Bourdeaux.
The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,
And left us to the rage of France his sword.
I gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death. That Talbot's name might be in thee revi
John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son : When sapless age, and weak unable limbs, The life, thou gav'st me first, was lost and done ; Should bring thy father to bis drooping chair. Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, But, O malignant and ill-boding stars !
To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date. Now thou art come unto a feast of death,
Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword A terrible and unavoided danger :
struck fire, Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse ; It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
John. Is my name Talbot ? and am I your son ? Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
The ireful bastard Orleans - that drew blood To make a bastard, and a slave of me:
From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood The world will say, He is not Talbot's blood, Of thy first fight - I soon encountered; That basely fled, when noble Talbot stood. And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
John. Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly: Mean and right poor; for that pure blood of mine, Your loss is great, so your regard should be ; Which thou didst force from Talbot
, my draxe box : My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Upon my death the French can little boast;
Came in strong rescue. In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. Art not thou weary, John How didst thou fare? Flight cannot stain the honour you have won ; Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, But mine it will, that no exploit have done: Now thou art seal’d the son of chivalry? You fled for vantage, every one will swear ; Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead; But, if I bow, they'll say — it was for fear.
The help of one stands me in little stead. There is no hope that ever I will stay,
0, too much folly is it, well I wot, If, the first hour, I shrink, and run away.
To hazard all our lives in one small boat. Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,
If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage, Rather than life preserv'd with infamy.
To-morrow I shall die with mickle age: Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb ? By me they nothing gain, an if I stay, John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's 'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day. womb.
In thee thy mother dies, our household's name: Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go. My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fare John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay ; Tal. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee. All these are sav'd, if thou wilt fly away. John. No part of him, but will be shame in me. John. The sword of Orleans hath not made a Tal. Thou never had'st renown, nor canst not
smart, lose it.
These words of yours draw life-blood from my lzeart John. Yes, your renowned name ; Shall flight On that advantage, bought with such a shame, abuse it?
(To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame) Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, stain.
The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die! John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. And like me to the peasant boys of France : If death_be so apparent, then both fly.
To be shame's scorn, and subject of mischance.
Speak, thy father's care ;
Sarely, by all the glory you have won,
Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble An if I dy, I am not Talbot's son :
knight : Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot ;
See, where he lies inhersed in the arms If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.
Of the most bloody nurser of his harms. Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete, Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet :
asunder; If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side; Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride.
Char. O, no; forbear : for that which we have [Exeunt.
During the life, let us not wrong it dead. SCENE VII. – Another Part of the same.
Enter Sir WILLIAM Lucy, attended ; a French Aarum : Ercursions. Enter TALBOT wounded,
Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day. gone;), where's young Talbot? where is valiant John ? Char. On what submissive message art thou sent? friumphant death, smear'd with captivity!
Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'tis a mere French Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee:
word ; When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee,
We English warriors wot not what it means. His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta’en, And, like a hungry lion, did commence
And to survey the bodies of the dead. Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience;
Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is. But when my angry guardant stood alone, But tell me whom thou seek'st. Tend'ring my ruin, and assail'd of none,
Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, Dizzyey'd fury, and great rage of heart,
Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury? Suddenly made him from my side to start
Created, for his rare success in arms, Into the elust'ring battle of the French :
Great earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence; And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, His overmounting spirit; and there died
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton, My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of
. O my dear lord! lo, where your son is borne! Knight of the noble order of Saint George, Tel. Thou antick death, which laugh’st us here Worthy Saint Michael, and the golden fleece ;
Great mareshal to Henry the sixth, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Of all his wars within the realm of France ? Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed! Two Talbots
, winged through the lither sky, The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath, la thy despite, shall 'scape mortality:
Writes not so tedious a style as this. O thou whose wounds become hard-favoured death, Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles, Speak to thy father, ere thou yield thy breath : Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet. Brate death by speaking, whether he will, or no; Lucy. Is Talbot slain ; the Frenchmen's only Inagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe. —
scourge, Poor boy! he smiles, methinks ; as who should Your kingdom's terrour and black Nemesis ? say
0, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn'd, Had death been French, then death had died to-day. That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces ! Cone, come, and lay him in his father's arms;
O, that I could but call these dead to life! Mi spirit can no longer bear these harms. It were enough to fright the realm of France : Sediers, adieu! I have what I would have,
Were but his picture left among you here, my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. It would amaze the proudest of you all.
(Dies. Give me their bodies ; that I may bear them hence, larutis. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving the
And give them burial as beseems their worth. twin bədies. Enter Charles, ALENÇON, BUR
Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, CUBBY, Bastard, La PUCELLE, and Forces.
He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
For God's sake, let him have 'em; to keep them Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
here, He should have found a bloody day of this.
They would but stink, and putrefy the air. Bart. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
I'll bear them hence id flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood ! But from their ashes shall be rear'd Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, A phenix that shall make all France afeard. Pou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid :
Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what But with a proud, majestical high scorn,
thou wilt. de answered thus ; Young Talbot was not born And now to Paris, in this conquering vein ; to be the pillage of a giglot wench : St , rusung in the bowels of the French,
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.
[Ereunt. He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
SCENE I. - London. A Room in the Palace.
The sum of money, which I promised
Should be deliver'd to his holiness
Leg. I will attend upon your lordship’s leisure. K. Hen. Have you perus’d the letters from the Win. Now, Winchester will not submit, I trow, pope,
Or be inferior to the proudest peer. The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac?
Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceire, Glo. I have, my lord ; and their intent is this, - That, neither in birth, or for authority, They humbly sue unto your excellence,
The bishop will be overborne by thee : To have a godly peace concluded of,
I'll either make thee strop, and bend thy knee, Between the realms of England and of France.
Or sack this country with a mutiny.
Ernst K. Hen. How doth your grace affect their mo
tion? Glo. Well, my good lord ; and as the only means
SCENE II. - France. Plains in Anjou. To stop effusion of our Christian blood,
Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENÇox, LA And 'stablish quietness on every
PUCELLE, and Forces, marching,
Char. These news, my lords, may cheer ou That such immanity and bloody strife
drooping spirits : Should reign among professors of one faith.
'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt, Glo. Beside, my lord, -the sooner to effect,
And turn again unto the warlike French. And surer bind, this knot of amity, —
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of The earl of Armagnac -near knit to Charles,
France, A man of great authority in France,
And keep not back your powers in dalliance. Proffers his only daughter to your grace
Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
Else, ruin combat with their palaces ! K. Hen. Marriage, uncle ! alas ! my years are
Enter a Messenger young ; And fitter is my study and my books,
Mess. Success unto our valiant general, Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
And happiness to his accomplices ! Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please, Char. What tidings send our scouts ? I pry'ihee So let them have their answers every one :
speak. I shall be well content with any choice,
Mess. The English army, that divided was Tends to God's glory, and my country's weal.
Into two parts, is now conjoin'd in one;
And means to give you battle presently, Enter a Legate, and two Ambassadors, with Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is WINCHESTER, in a Cardinals habit.
But we will presently provide for them. Ere. What! is my lord of Winchester install'd, Bur. I trust, the ghost of Talbot is not there; And call'd unto a cardinal's degree !
Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. Then, I perceive, that will be verified,
Puc. Of all base passions, fear is most accur'd:Henry the fifth did sometime prophecy, —
Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine If once he come to be a cardinal,
Let Henry fret, and all the world repine. He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.
Char. Then on, my lords ; And France be X. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits
tunate! Have been consider'd and debated on. Your purpose is both good and reasonable :
SCENE III. - The same. Before Angiers And, therefore, are we certainly resolv'd To draw conditions of a friendly peace ;
Alarums : Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE! Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean
Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchum Shall be transported presently to France.
Glo. And for the proffer of my lord your master, - Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts ; I have inform’d his highness so at large,
And ye choice spirits that admonish me, As - liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
And give me signs of future accidents! (Thund Her beauty, and the value of her dower, — You speedy helpers, that are substitutes He doth intend she shall be England's queen. Under the lordly monarch of the north, K. Hen. In argument and proof of which con- Appear, and aid me in this enterprize !
tráct, Bear her this jewel, [to the Amb.] pledge of my
Enter Fiends. affection.
This speedy quick appearance argues proof And so, my lord protector, see them guarded, Of your accustom'd diligence to me. And safely brought to Dover ; where, inshipp'd, Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cullid Commit them to the fortune of the sea.
Out of the powerful regions under earth, , [Exeunt King Henry and Train ; GLOSTER, Help me this once, that France may get the field EXETER, and Ambassadors.
[They walk aborit and speck Win. Stay, my lord legate ; you shall first receive o, hold me not with silence over-long!
Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, Hast not a tongue ? is she not here thy prisoner ? 1'1 lop a member off, and give it you,
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? In earnest of a further benefit;
Ay; beauty's princely majesty is such, So you do condescend to help me now.
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. [They hang their heads. Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk, - if thy name be so, No hope to have redress ? - My body shall What ransome must I pay before I pass ? Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit. For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.
[They shake their heads. Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit, Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice,
Before thou make a trial of her love ? Aside. Latreat you to your wonted furtherance?
Mar. Why speak’st thou not? what ransome must Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all,
I pay? Before that England give the French the foil. Suf. She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd:
[They depart. She is a woman; therefore to be won. (Aside. Sze! they forsake me. Now the time is come, Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransome, yea, or no ? That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, Suf. Fond man! remember, that thou hast a wife; And let her head fall into England's lap.
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour ? [Aside. My ancient incantations are too weak,
Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not bear. And hell too strong for me to buckle with:
Suf. There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. (Erit.
Mar. He talks at random ; sure, the man is mad. dlarims. Enter French and English, fighting. Suf. And yet a dispensation may be had. La PCCELLE and York fight hand to hand,
Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. PECELLE is taken. The French fly.
Suf. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom? Park
. Damsel of France, I think, I have you fast: Why, for my king : Tush! that's a wooden thing. Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms,
Nar. He talks of wood : It is some carpenter. And try if they can gain your liberty. –
Suf. Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
And peace established between these realms. See , how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
But there remains a scruple in that too : As if, with Circe, she would change my shape.
For though her father be the king of Naples, Puc. Chang'd to a worser shape thou can'st not be.
Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, Purk. O, Charles the Daupbin is a proper man;
And our nobility will scorn the match. [Aside. No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
Mar. Hear ye, captain ? Are you not at leisure ? Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and Suf. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much :
Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield. And may ye both be suddenly surpriz’d
Madam, I have a secret to reveal. Bs bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds !
Mar. What though I be enthrall’a? he seems a York. Fell , banning hag! enchantress, hold thy
And will not any way dishonour me. Aside. Puc
. I pr’ythee, give me leave to curse a while. Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. Tork. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French;
(Exeunt. And then I need not crave his courtesy: [Aside.
Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause Alcrum. Enter SUFFOLK, leading in Lady Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere now. MARGARET.
(Aside. Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so ?
[Gazes on her. Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. Ofairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly;
Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose Par I will touch thee but with reverent hands, Your bondage happy, to be made a queen ? And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, I tiss these fingers (kissing her hand.] for eternal Than is a slave in base servility; peace :
For princes should be free, Who art thou ? say, that I may honour thee. Suf.
And so shall you, hablar
. Margaret my name; and daughter to a king, If happy England's royal king be free. the king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.
Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? Saf
. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd. Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's quoen ; le not offended, nature's miracle,
To put a golden scepter in thy hand, Thea art allotted to be ta'en by me :
And set a precious crown upon thy head, o doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
If thou wilt condescend to be mykeeping them prisoners underneath her wings. Mar.
What? et if this servile usage once offend,
Suf. His love. lo, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend.
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. (She turns away as going. Suf. No, gentle madam ; I unworthy am , stay! - I have no power to let her pass ; To woo so fair a dame to be his wife, y band would free her, but my heart says —no. And have no portion in the choice myself. plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
How say you, madam; are you so content? winkling another counterfeited beam,
Mar. An if my father please, I am content. seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. Suf. Then call our captains, and our colours, forth: sin would I woo her, yet I dare not speak :
And, madam, at your father's castle walls I call for pen and ink, and write my mind : ,
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him. ye, De la Poole ! disable not thyself;
(Troops come forward.