The levied succours 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 ex

claims;

Swearing that you withhold his levied host,

Collected for this expedition.

Tal. Part of thy father may be saved in thee.
John. No part of him, but will be shame in me.
Tal. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not
lose it.

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.

Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight, and die?

Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the My age was never tainted with such shame.

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 entrapp'd 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.

you.

Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu!
Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in
[Exeunt.
SCENE V-The English camp, near Bourdeaux.
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 reviv'd,
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,1
A terrible and unavoided2 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,
Dishonour not her honourable 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 regard3 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. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.

(1) To a field where death will be feasted with slaughter.

The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,
And left us to the rage of France's sword.
Where is John Talbot?-pause, and take thy breath;
gave thee life, and rescued thee from death.

I

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'd4 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
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken'd with youthful spleen, and warlike rage,
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee.
The ireful bastard Orleans-that drew blood
From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood
Of thy first fight-I soon encountered;
And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, base,
And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,
Mean and right poor; for that pure blood of mine,
Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave

boy :

Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care;
Art not thou weary, John? How dost thou fare?
Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead;
The help of one stands me in little stead.
O, too much folly is it, well I wot,
To hazard all our lives in one small boat.
If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
By me they nothing gain, an if I stay,
'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day:
In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.
All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay;
All these are sav'd, if thou wilt fly away.

(2) For unavoidable.

(3) Your care of your own safety. (4) Ended

John. The sword of Orleans hath not made me ||
smart,

These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart:
On that advantage, bought with such a shame
(To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame,)
Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die:
And like me to the peasant boys of France;
To be shame's scorn, and subject of mischance!
Surely, by all the glory you have won,
An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son:

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

Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,
Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:
If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride.

[Exeunt. SCENE VII-Another part of the same.Alarum: Excursions. Enter Talbot wounded, supported by a Servant.

Tal. Where is my other life?-mine own is

gone:

Conduct me to the dauphin's tent; to know
Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.

Char. On what submissive message art thou sent?
Lucy. Submission, dauphin? 'tis a mere French
word;

English warriors wot not what it means.

I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
And to survey the bodies of the dead,

Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is.
But tell me whom thou seek'st.

O, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?-We
Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity !2
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,3 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. O my dear lord! lo, where your son is
borne !

Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here

to scorn,

Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,

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,
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of
Sheffield,

The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge;
Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
Worthy Saint Michael, and the golden fleece;
Great mareshal to Henry the Sixth,
Of all his wars within the realm of France?

Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed!
The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.-
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.

Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only

Scourge,

Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
O, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn'd,
That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces!
O, that I could but call these dead to life!
It were enough to fright the realm of France:
Were but his picture left among you here,
It would amaze the proudest of you all.
Give me their bodies; that I may bear them hence,
And give them burial as beseems their worth.

Two Talbots, winged through the lither4 sky,
In thy despite, shall 'scape mortality.-
Othou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd death,
Speak to thy father, ere thou yield thy breath:
Brave death by speaking, whether he will, or no;
Imagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe.--
Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should 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 anns are young John Talbot's grave.
[Dies.
Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving
the two bodies. Enter Charles, Alençon, Bur-
gundy, Bastard, La Pucelle, and forces.
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, But from their ashes shall be rear'd
We should have found a bloody day of this. A phoenix that shall make all France afcard.
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging- Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what
wood,5
thou wilt.

Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
For God's sake, let him have 'em; to keep them here,
Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lucy.
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 mo-
tion?

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 surer bind, this knot of amity,-

The earl of Armagnac-near knit to Charles,
A man of great authority in France,—
Proffers his only daughter to your grace
In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
K. Hen. Marriage, uncle! alas! my years are
young;

And fitter is my study and my books,
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please,
So let them have their answers every one;
I shall be well content with any choice,
Tends to God's glory, and my country's weal.

Enter a Legate, and two ambassadors, with Win-
chester, in a cardinal's habit.

Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive,
The bishop will be overborne by thee:
That, neither in birth, or for authority,
I'll either make thee stoop, and bend thy knee,
Or sack this country with a mutiny. [Exeunt
SCENE 11-France. Plains in Anjou. Enter
Charles, Burgundy, Alençon, La Pucelle, and
forces, marching.

Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our
drooping spirits:

'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And turn again unto the warlike French.
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of
France,

And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
Else, ruin combat with their palaces!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Success unto our valiant general,

And happiness to his accomplices!

Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr'ythee,
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 fortunate! [Exeunt.

Exe. What is my lord of Winchester install'd, SCENE III-The same. Before Angiers.

And call'd unto a cardinal's degree?

Then, I perceive, that will be verified,

Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy,

If once he come to be a cardinal,

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 informed 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 con-
trách,

Bear her this jewel, [To the Amb.] pledge of my
affection.

And so, my lord protector, see them guarded,
And safely brought to Dover; where, inshipp'd,
Commit them to the fortune of the sea.

[Exeunt King Henry and train; Gloster,
Exeter, and Ambassadors.
Win. Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receive
The sum of money, which I promised
Should be deliver'd to his holiness
For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
Leg. I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.
Win. Now, Winchester will not submit, I trow,
Or be inferior to the proudest peer.

(1) Barbarity, savageness.
(2) Chirms sewed up.

Alarums: Excursions. Enter La Pucelle.

Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen
fly.-

Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts;2
And ye choice spirits that admonish me,
And give me signs of future accidents!

You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
Under the lordly monarch of the north,3
Appear, and aid me in this enterprise!

Enter Fiends.

[Thunder.

This speedy quick appearance argues proof
Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd
Out of the powerful regions under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field.
[They walk about, and speak not
O, hold me not with silence over-long!
Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,
I'll lop a member off, and give it you,
In earnest of a further benefit;
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,

(3) The north was supposed to be the particular habitation of bad spirits.

Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
Suff
Fair Margaret knows,
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face,1 or feign.
Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend,
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

[Exit, from the walls. Suff. And here I will expect thy coming. Trumpets sounded. Enter Reignier, below. Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories;

Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.
Suff. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a
child,

Fit to be made companion with a king:
What answer makes your grace unto my suit?
Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little
worth,

To be the princely bride of such a lord;
Upon condition I may quietly

Enjoy mine own, the county Maine, and Anjou,
Free from oppression, or the stroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.

Suff. That is her ransom, I deliver her;
And those two counties, I will undertake,
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Reig. And I again,-in Henry's royal name,
As deputy unto that gracious king,
Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.
Suff. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly
thanks,

Because this is in traffic of a king:

[Aside.

And yet, methinks, I could be well content
To be mine own attorney in this case.
I'll over then to England with this news,
And make this marriage to be solemniz'd;
So, farewell, Reignier! Set this diamond safe
In golden palaces, as it becomes.

Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here.
Mar. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise,
and prayers,

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [Going.
Suff. Farewell, sweet madam! But, hark you,
Margaret;

No princely commendations to my king?

Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, A virgin, and his servant, say to him.

Suff. Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly di-
rected.

But, madam, I must trouble you again,-
No loving token to his majesty?

Mar. Yes, my good lord; a pure unspotted

heart,

SCENE IV-Camp of the Duke of York, in
Anjou. Enter York, Warwick, and others.
York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to
burn.

Enter La Pucelle, guarded, and a Shepherd.
Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart
outright!

Have I sought every country far and near,
And, now it is my chance to find thee out,
Must I behold thy timeless4 cruel death?
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee!
Puc. Decrepit miser!5 base ignoble wretch!
I am descended of a gentler blood;
Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine.
Shep. Out, out!-My lords, an please you, 'tis

not so;

I did beget her, all the parish knows :
Her mother liveth yet, can testify,

She was the first fruit of my bachelorship.

War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage?
York. This argues what her kind of life hath been;
Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.

Shep. Fie, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle!
God knows thou art a collop of my flesh;
And for thy sake have I shed many a tear :
Deny me not, I pr'ythee, gentle Joan.

Puc. Peasant, avaunt!-You have suborn'd this

man,

On purpose to obscure my noble birth.

Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest,
The morn that I was wedded to her mother.-
Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
Of thy nativity! I would, the milk

Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck'dst her
breast,

Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!
Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs a-field,
I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab ?
O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [Exit.
York. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long,
To fill the world with vicious qualities.

Puc. First, let me tell you whom you have con
demn'd:

Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issu'd from the progeny of kings;
Virtuous, and holy; chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits:
But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,-
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders, but by help of devils.
No, misconceived !7 Joan of Arc hath been

Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
Suff. And this withal.
[Kisses her.
Ma.. That for thyself;-I will not so presume,
To send such peevish2 tokens to a king.
[Exeunt Reignier and Margaret.
Suff. O, wert thou for myself!-But, Suffolk,|| A virgin from her tender infancy,

Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
York. Ay, ay-away with her to execution.
War. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
Spare for no faggots, let there be enough:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortened.

Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?—
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity ;

(6) A corruption of obstinate.

(7) No, ye misconceivers, ye who mistake me

(5) Miser here simply means a miserable creature. Il and my qualities.’